#one day I’ll get better at drawing expressions/clothes

[crypticreid]

KINKTOBER DAY THREE

October 8 -- Begging

masterlist

author's note: this was supposed to be mutual masturbation, but I wasn't feeling it, so I switched it to begging. Thank you again for everyone reading and supporting. 💕💕💕 If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know! 🎃🎃🎃

summary: Spencer can't help but be upset with the choice you made, so he takes out his frustration in your hotel room later.

warnings: female reader, dom!spencer, begging, a little bit of 'good girl', hand job, fingering, female receiving oral, multiple orgasms

word count: 3.6k

this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

His eyes flick over to you, and you can read him like a book. The anger and frustration battle across his features as he opens his mouth to argue against your suggestion. You speak before he can, “I know this is dangerous, but I trust all of you to keep me safe. We have to do this.” Spencer slams his mouth shut and forcefully turns his head from you. Your stomach drops, but you know you’re making the right decision. This case will be over in a couple of hours, and then you can talk this out with him, and everything will be fine. 

If anyone notices Spencer’s reaction, they don’t say anything. Instead, most of the team looks at you with worried expressions. Hotch is assessing you, his arms crossed tight over his broad chest. “This guy is erratic and unpredictable.” He says in his calm and calculated tone. 

“He’s going to attack tonight. We know that this vigil is going to draw him. He can’t resist it. All I need to do is distract him long enough for you to move in.” You explain rationally. “We can’t allow more people to die, and I’m the only one who hasn’t been identified as an agent by the media.” 

You refuse to break eye contact with Hotch. You steady your breathing and straighten your shoulders. You’re confident in this choice, and Hotch knows you won’t back down. He nods, “okay.” 

“Okay?” Spencer interjects, his voice breaking slightly from his heightened emotion. “You can’t be serious, Hotch.” 

“This is her choice.” Hotch answers, and everyone in the room seems to hold their breath as they wait for you to reply. 

Hotch clears his throat, “let’s get started. We’ve got four hours until the vigil.” 

You level your gaze at Spencer, trying to telepathically tell him you’re sorry. “I have to do this.” Spencer’s jaw sets hard. You see the muscles flex against each other. He turns away from you and leaves the room.

“He’s just worried. We all are.” Emily reaches out for you and rubs a comforting hand up and down your arm. You nod. 

You don’t see Spencer again until you’re in the SUV five blocks away from the site of the vigil. Morgan had spent the entire ride over repeating the plan to you and making sure you understood exactly where everyone else was going to be. You kept nodding and letting him start over again because you knew that this was how Morgan made himself feel better about the situation. Before he got out of the vehicle, he had reached over to the passenger seat and grasped your shoulder. “You’re brave. And you’re damn good at your job. We’ll catch this bastard.” 

Now you’re alone, glancing at the watch on your wrist. In ten minutes, you’re going to get out of the car and walk toward the vigil. It’s chilly enough that you have a jacket on, and it doesn’t even look like you’re wearing a vest underneath your clothing. You let out a shaky breath and try to calm your nerves. 

You jump when the passenger door swings open and you reach for your holster automatically. “It’s me.” Spencer says, and you take your hand away. 

“You’re supposed to already be at the vigil.” You mutter and look straight ahead out the windshield because you can’t look at him. You can’t handle seeing any sort of anger on his face. 

“I know.” He says your name, and you turn to face him. The anger in his eyes has dissipated, and only fear remains. 

“Spencer, I’ll be –” You start, but you’re interrupted by his hands grabbing the side of your face and pulling you in for a kiss. It’s forceful and meaningful, and your hands find a tight grip on his shoulders. The two of you say goodbye to each other with your lips and tongues, neither one of you wanting to break apart, to face reality. 

Finally, he pulls away from you and sets his hands on your shoulders. “Be safe. Please.” 

You incline your head toward his, connecting your forehead to his. “I will.” 

He kisses you again, with less force, but with the same meaning, and then steps away and closes the car door. You watch as he walks down the alley until he completely disappears. And then a few minutes later, you get out and walk the opposite direction down the alley. 

Your hotel room is dark, and only the lights on the nightstand work, but you’re too exhausted to complain. After wrapping the case, Hotch had told everyone to head to the hotel for a few hours, and you would fly out in the morning. No one argued because you hadn’t even seen your hotel room since landing. 

You’ve taken a shower, changed into pajamas, and started to get comfortable in bed when there’s a knock on your door. You climb out of bed and look through the peephole to see Spencer standing in the hallway. Quickly, you open the door and step aside for him to come inside. As soon as you shut the door and turn around, he has his hands on you, your waist, your hips, shaky hands traveling across your skin. 

“I’m okay, Spencer. Not even a scratch. I’m fine.” You reassure him with a calm and steady voice. He doesn’t stop his hands and won’t look you in the eyes, so you reach out for him. Your own hands hold onto both sides of his face and force him to look into your eyes. “I’m fine.” You repeat. 

He swallows and nods and blinks away the tears that were gathering in his eyes. “Don’t do that again, please.” 

You know you can’t promise that, but you also know that Spencer doesn’t want to hear that right now. “Okay.” He kisses your cheek. “Okay.” He kisses your other cheek and then your forehead and, finally, your lips. His hands on your hips pull you tighter against him like he can’t have you close enough, like he wants the two of you to merge together as one person. Your hands move up into his hair, fingers tangling into soft locks, nails scratching against his scalp. His moan vibrates against your lips, and he deepens the kiss. His grip on your hips is vice-like. You groan into his mouth. 

He mumbles your name, and you answer with a moan, suddenly desperate for every part of him. The stress of the day comes to a head, and you just want your mind to go blank. Spencer is the only person who can make your brain stop its constant ruminations. 

“Please, Spencer.” You urge him with your words, but also a quick movement of your hips against him. You move your hands away from his hair and down the back of his neck toward his clavicle and then start to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. 

You only get one button undone before he says, “stop.” He breaks away from your lips, and his hands wrap around both of your wrists and pull your hands off of his shirt. When you look into his eyes, the anger is back, not as fiery and passionate as it was hours before but low and simmering just below the surface. “You think you just get what you want after that?” 

His voice is heavy with emotion, and it zings straight to your lower belly. You want to smile, but press your lips together instead and shake your head. 

“Answer me.” 

“No.” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t give you anything tonight, huh?” He moves one of your wrists into his other hand so that he has both of them wrapped in one hand. The hand that's now free moves to your neck, a finger trailing down to your clavicle. You swallow against it. “I should leave this room right now. Leave you all alone and so needy.” 

You swallow again. “Spencer, please.” 

He lifts your wrists above your head and pushes you up against the door of the hotel room in rapid succession. You let out a sharp gasp at the movement. “Please, what? What do you want?” His other hand has found another place back on your hip, gripping it, his thumb rubbing back and forth on a bit of skin peeking out from your old Academy t-shirt. 

“Please don’t leave.” You whisper. The hand on your hip slides underneath your shirt and up your stomach toward your breasts. His fingertips are barely there against your skin, enough to make your skin tingle, and goosebumps bloom, but not enough to satiate any need for his touch. 

He drags one of his fingers across the underside of your breast, and your hands twitch in his grasp above your head. He twists his grip and tightens it. 

The hand near your breast spreads across your breast and grabs it. You arch your back into his touch. “You need it so bad, don’t you?” 

“Yes. I need it.” You don’t even attempt to play coy and press your thighs together, trying to get any sort of relief between them. 

Spencer ducks his head against your exposed neck and kisses it roughly, nips at it without leaving a mark, and then licks and soothes where his teeth nibbled. “Are you going to listen?” 

You nod before realizing that you need to answer verbally. “Yes. Yes. I will. I promise.” 

He laughs against your neck. His breaths on your skin make you press your thighs tighter together. “You’re going to do as you’re told.” It isn’t a question. 

“Yes.” You confirm. 

His lips find yours again, and the hand up your shirt tightens on your breast, his thumb finding your nipple, teasing it back and forth. He kisses you slowly, pulling your bottom lip with his teeth and then racing to brush his tongue against it. A constant tug of war between a ping of pain and a rush of comfort. You take all of it, anything he is willing to give you, you want all of it. 

When his thumb and pointer finger takes your nipple and rolls it between a pinch of his fingers, you let out a desperate noise. 

“Spencer.” 

He makes a deep noise from the back of his throat but doesn’t stop kissing you or pinching your nipple. A pulse all of its own begins in your core, fluttery and demanding. 

“I’ll do anything, please.”  He bites at your clavicle, the only place he’s marked you so far because he knows it will be covered by your shirt in the morning. 

“You’re going to leave your hands above your head, do you understand?” He finally instructs. 

“Yes.” 

“You don’t get to touch me.” 

“Spencer,” you start to protest, but you look into his eyes and stop yourself. 

“You touch me, and I stop. Do you understand?” 

You swallow. “Yes.”  

“Good.” He goes back to your neck, teasing and tasting your skin, driving you crazy with want. But you don’t dare move. If he pulls away completely now and leaves, you think you might lose your mind. 

In between his soft bites, he instructs, “I’m going to let go of your wrists, okay? But you’re not going to move them. Leave them exactly where they are. And then I’m going to get on my knees and make you come as many times as I want. But if you touch me at all, I’m going to go back to my hotel room and leave you here all alone. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You nod feverishly. He lets go of your wrists, and you don’t move a muscle. 

He smiles smugly and pinches your nipple one last time before sliding down to his knees in front of you. His fingers graze up the back of your calves and thighs and then to the front of your thighs. He pushes your legs apart, and you lean back further on the door for support as he pulls down your pajama pants, leaving your underwear on. 

“Look at you,” he tuts. “Soaking through your panties just from a couple of kisses.” 

You let out a frustrated breath. “It was more than a couple kisses.” 

A muscle in his jaw ticks, and you slam your mouth shut. “Are you going to waste my time? Talking back with that smart mouth?” 

“No.” 

“I can think of better uses for that mouth. You can’t talk back with my cock down your throat, can you?” 

You swallow harshly, and you feel yourself getting wetter. “No, I can’t.” 

He leans forward, and you hold your breath, waiting, but he kisses your inner thigh instead. And then he starts the same pattern of kissing and nipping he’d done earlier, but now on your thigh. His hands are on your ass, massaging and rubbing. As he moves to your other thigh, he makes a point to incline toward the place you need him so desperately, but he only exhales across it. You whimper, and you feel the turn of a smile on his lips as he presses into your thigh. 

It is basically torture, and it’s taking every single ounce of self control you have not to grab his head and put him exactly where you want him. You know you can’t, so you beg instead, “please, Spencer. I can’t take the teasing anymore.” 

“Aw, my poor baby.” He taunts, and you grunt when he pulls away completely and removes his hands. He sits back on his heels and looks up at you. “Take off your shirt.” 

You do what he asks rapidly and then put your hands back above your head without him asking. He smiles, “good girl.” 

The room is dim, shadows play across his face, but he watches you as you breathe, your breasts rising and falling. He lifts hands and presses his palms up your stomach and then back down, causing more goosebumps springing up across your skin, toward your core, but he bypasses it and travels down your thighs instead. “I think you’ve ruined these panties, baby.” He laughs, mesmerized by the growing wet spot. Your clit is throbbing and you feel like you could fall apart with only one single touch from him. 

“What would you do if I stopped now?” He wraps his hands across your thighs and squeezes and then looks up to your eyes. “Stood up and walked out of this room?” 

You would probably spend the rest of your night touching yourself until you couldn’t handle it, but you don’t want that. “Please don’t.” You reply instead. “Please touch me, Spencer.” 

He squeezes your thighs again. “I am touching you.” 

You groan, frustrated. “Touch my pussy, please. I need it.” You give in. He can’t help his smile as he moves one hand over slightly and uses his thumb to touch the wet spot on your underwear. He presses into you over the fabric. It’s only the tip of the iceberg, but you moan anyway because you’re so desperate. 

He presses deeper, wetting his thumb through the fabric, and then moves it upward, finally rubbing over your throbbing clit. You let out a shaky breath and lean forward slightly. His thumb rubs up and down on your clit lightly, practically a feather-like touch. He doesn’t use any pressure on it. You move your hips forward, trying to force some pressure, but just pulls away. 

“Spencer.” You whimper. 

He laughs, “so whiney.” He puts his thumb back and continues in the exact same way as before. You lean back fully back on the door with a small cry. “Do you want to come?” He asks.

You screw your eyes shut and nod furiously. 

“Open your eyes and answer me.” 

You force your eyes open. “I want to come, please, Spencer.” You try to get rid of the whine in your voice, but you don’t succeed.  

“Yeah, I can tell you do.” He uses just a little more pressure on your clit and begins to circle it. You shiver and let out a pitiful moan. “So needy. So desperate.” He mutters and leans forward to kiss along your thigh again. Your hips buck against him involuntarily. “You can come whenever you want, baby.” 

“I need more.” 

“No.” He kisses your thigh again and looks up to your eyes. “You come from this.” You curl your toes on the floor and push your head back. “I’ll give you more when you come.” His thumb continues its barely enough circles on your clit and you exhale. “Don’t you want more?” 

“Yes!” You huff. 

“Then come.” He nips your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to your clenching pussy, but never actually reaching it. His other hand moves back to your ass and he kisses your other thigh. You can feel the deep pleasure at the base of your spine and you give yourself over to it. “That’s it, so good, baby. Come just like this.” 

You come hard and force your hands to stay above your head, your hips bucking against Spencer’s hand. He moves his hand from your ass and holds onto your hip to stay your movements. Once you come down from your high he pulls down your underwear and sticks his thumb into your pussy. 

“You're dripping, baby.” He murmurs and fingers you for a few seconds until swiping the thumb back up to your clit. You’ve barely had time to recover from your first orgasm and you let out a small breathy shout. “Ssshh, we can’t let anyone else hear how needy you are.” 

You bit your lip to contain your whimpers. Spencer’s thumb circles your clit, using the pressure you need. Another wave of pleasure is already rising, gathering low in your belly. “Do you want my fingers, baby?” 

“Please. Spencer. Yes. I need them. Please.” You ramble. 

He takes the hand that’s on your hip and inserts his middle and ring fingers into you, immediately pressing into you, rubbing against the spot inside you that makes you want to scream. You swallow the shout that you can’t let out and instead continue to ramble to Spencer. Your legs shake as you give into another wave of pleasure. 

“That’s it, give me another one. So good, baby.” You come against his hand again, but this time Spencer doesn’t let you come down from it. Instead, he moves the hand off your clit and grips your hip to hold you in place as his mouth replaces his hand. You ride his tongue through the aftershocks of your orgasm and let the next wave begin to crest. His fingers never falter as he fingers you. He pulls away for only a split second, “touch me.” 

Your hands fall from the door instantly and tangle in his hair, grasping and scratching, finally getting to push him harshly into you. He moans against you, sending vibrations up your body. You come one more time with a small shout, as quiet as you can. Your legs are shaky and unstable, but Spencer holds you tightly as he takes his time licking you clean. 

When he stands up to his full height, you pull him into a kiss and then lower your hands down to his belt. He breaks the kiss, “I don’t have a condom.” 

You kiss him and continue to take off his belt. “I don’t care.” You get his belt undone, unbuckle his pants, and reach in to take him in your hand. He’s unbelievably hard. The feeling of him is so heavy in your hand. 

He puts his hands on your shoulders as he takes a shuddering breath. “You should care. We haven’t talked about this yet. And you’re in the heat of the moment.” He rationalizes. 

You stick out your bottom lip because you know he’s right. “Can we talk about it later? Cause I want you, all of you.” You squeeze the base of him. His eyes flutter shut and then flip back open as he licks his bottom lip. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll talk about it.” Then he kisses you again as you pump your hand up and down on him, your thumb swiping at his leaking head. “Oh shit. Don’t stop.” He stutters against your lips. His kisses are sloppy and nothing like his calculated kisses earlier, but you don’t care. He’s pumping his hips into you, so completely lost in the feeling of your hand on him. 

It doesn’t take long until he’s moaning into your mouth, “so good. You’re so good,” he rambles. One of his hands reaches for your hair and pulls your head back so he can look into your eyes. You bite your bottom lip, and he comes in his pants with a harsh grunt. 

He kisses you, and you keep moving your hand until he’s hissing from sensitivity and pulling away from you. 

The hand in your hair tightens and pulls you back into a deep kiss until you're both breathless. You subtly wipe your hand on his underwear because they’re already a mess, and then both hands hold onto his waist until his kisses slow down. 

“I’m sorry for being angry.” He finally says. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow. I guess today, technically. But at home, I mean.” He looks into your eyes, searching. 

He nods. “Okay.” And he kisses you again, light and feathery. “I need to go clean up before we leave.” 

Your fingers play with the edge of his pants. “Or you could stay, and I could clean you up.” You offer with a not so innocent smile. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He kisses you chastely and pulls away. He looks around for your shirt and pants and then helps you get dressed again. “See you on the jet.” 

You step away from the door and let him leave. In a few hours, you’ll have to board the jet and pretend that the genius profiler on your team didn’t just give you three mind blowing orgasms, so for now you allow yourself to watch him walk down the hotel hallway. He scrambles to buckle his belt as he walks and then runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. You go back into your room with a smile.

tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife

[banggyu0308]

aye aye aye

yeonjun and fem yn do the deed after yeonjun comes back from work stressed

i did this with hee TT

I went too far with this- sorry mallow T-T

I’ll Make You Feel Better // Choi Yeonjun 

switch!yeonjun x fem!reader

Summary: usually when you pick your boyfriend up from work, he’s at least a little tired. But when he gets in the car one specific day, lips desperate on yours, you can tell he’s had a bad day, and you can’t take seeing him like this, so you offer to make him feel better.

genre: smut, fluff

Warnings: unprotected sex , creampie , Yeonjun calls the reader ‘kitten’ and ‘baby’ , reader calls him ‘Juni’, ‘my juni’, ‘little baby Juni’ and ‘good boy’ , starts off sweet and passionate but gets a little rough towards the end , grinding , he cums from her teeth, lips, and tongue on his thighs (you’ll prob see this again with sub Gyu) , does the reader eat his ass out? Yeah. Do I know why? Nope, anal fingering (m receiving) , cursing , dacryphilia , yeah he starts really subby tbh , praise , not proofread

word count: 2k

A/N-  I made this wayyyy out of my comfort zone, but I tried my best.

You drum your fingers against the steering wheel, the hum of the running car vibrating you slightly, waiting.

You finally see Yeonjun open the door of the building, eyes on the floor and the lower half of his face covered with a mask. His steps seem heavy, half-hearted, and you purse your lips in confusion and worry.

You change your expression to a smile when he slides in the passenger side door, taking his mask off. He leans his head back, exposing his neck, the marks from a few nights previous faded.

“How was work, Juni?” You ask, leaning to peck his lips lightly.

He smiles slightly, a soft sigh leaving his lips. “It could’ve been better… I had to practice for a few hours extra and I couldn’t get any lyrics for the songs we’re supposed to put out in a few months.” His eyes look tired, and you notice the way he leans a little extra into your touch when you rake your fingers through his hair. You bite your lower lip, not yet driving away, and lean forward to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. Yeonjun complies, kissing you back, his hand on the back of your neck, drawing you closer.

You have innocent intentions for the kiss, simply wanting to make him feel a little better, but it all goes downhill when you feel his tongue against your lower lip. It sends tingles down your back, and you pull away, a smirk on your lips. Without a word, you put the car in drive, heading to the dorm, which is, conveniently, only five minutes away. Also convenient, the rest of the members are still at work.

The moment you get inside, your back is against the door and Yeonjun’s lips are on yours again, hungry and desperate and a little vulnerable, he trusts you that this will make his day better, how you treat him, his favorite name for you slipping out of his mouth and into your ear.

You tighten your grip on his shirt, only letting his lips meet your neck for a second before you kiss him again, knowing that his obsession with mouths has more to do with yours on him and not his on you (although he does like that, too). 

Yeonjun is behind you a moment later, arms around your waist and lips on your neck, your shirt removed and his mouth moving to your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses before marking you as his. You shiver at his touch, moans leaving you. You can feel the curve of his lips against your skin, before he shifts his hips forward, grinding against your ass.

“Oh, kitten,” he whispers, nipping your skin as his breathing grows heavier. His erection pressed perfectly against you, your ass moving back against him, little moans from him filling the room. “You treat me so well.”

You nod slightly, arching your back against him before facing him again, fingers tugging at his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. The sight of his body, exposed in front of you, only turns you on more.

The rest of your clothes soon follow, and you’re on top of him on the bed, your lips on his neck and his pretty, perfect lips parted in pleasure when you kiss down to his v-line, a gentle kiss placed to his birthmark before you teasingly skip over his dick, instead kissing his inner thigh, an inch above his knee.

Yeonjun’s breath hitches, legs jolting together. You tsk, pressing your hands on his knees, pushing them apart again before your lips are on his thighs again, teeth nipping his skin lightly, coaxing whimpery moans from his lips. You trace a line up his thigh with your tongue, dipping dangerously close to his dick, delighted by the tremble you feel in his body. 

“Oh, Juni…” you coo, leaving marks from his knee to his dick. “You’re so sensitive~”

The quiver in his body increases, his hips thrusting upwards in vain to release the pleasure building up. Yeonjun nods furiously, the little pathetic whimpers from his lips delicious to your ears. “Y/N, baby, gonna… gonna cum, oh fuck, please!”

You smirk up at him, sneering slightly. “Oh, so little baby Juni is gonna cum? He’s so sensitive that he’s gonna cum from a little tongue on his thigh? How cute..~”

You know he likes it when you’re mean to him, and the fucked-out expression on his face as his body shakes is completely worth your words. The best part is when he nods, agreeing, as your tongue dips up his thigh again.

“Oh, Juni,” you sigh, fake disappointed. “Alright, fine, I guess. Cum for me, Juni baby.”

A little whimper comes from his throat, hips bucking upwards as he cums, semen running down his dick and stomach.

It’s cute, how helpless he looks, chest heaving and body shaking, his eyes shut tight, legs still spread in front of you.

You hum in appreciation, then stand, rummaging through a drawer next to his bed, pulling out a small bottle of cherry flavored lube.

“W-what’re you doing?” Yeonjun asks, his voice trembling slightly.

You smirk, walking back to him with it in your hands, laying down between his legs again. “I’ve gotta make my Juni feel good, don’t I?”

You squirt some of the lube in your hand, then dribble the rest onto his tight little hole, the cold liquid making him flinch and then gasp out in pleasure.

You lick up his thighs, trailing your tongue closer, the taste of the lube on your lips making you moan against him. Cute little whimpers escape Yeonjun when you finally dip your tongue inside him briefly before biting the skin of his asscheek, leaving a mark. You run a finger gently in a circle around his asshole, the lube making your fingers slick and readying him, your name leaving his lips repeatedly when you finally slide a finger inside him.

You stretch to tongue-kiss him, swallowing the shaking whimpers from him, his breath laborious on your cheek.

“Can my Juni not take it?” You mock, pulling away and slipping another finger into him, brushing up against his prostate. “Is it too much?”

Yeonjun shakes his head, perfect lips trembling, tears in his eyes when you rock your fingers into him. “N-no, can take it, can take it…”

“Yeah? Can you take it like a good boy?” Your fingers pumping in and out of him, you kiss his torso, lips latching on to the sensitive skin of his abdomen, feeling him shudder under you.

He nods, hands gripping your other arm, little pathetic whines slipping past the restraints of his lips. “Can take it, I’ll be a good boy, promise, promise.” 

Your free hand reaches to pump his dick twice. “Can you cum for me, Juni? Prove how good you are?”

Yeonjun nods again, hips bucking up to your hands, silent tears slipping down his cheeks. You kiss them away, then lick over his tip. A high pitched moan from him let’s you know how close he is, and you repeat your action, fingers still thrusting into him, cooing encouragements for the five seconds until he cums. His cum dripping off your lips, cheeks, and you lick it up, pulling your fingers out of him. “Good boy, Juni..~” you coo.

“Say it again, say it again…” he whines, pressing his lips to yours.

“Hmm.. fuck me good, Juni, and I’ll say it,” you tease, running your hands through his hair.

You think he’s too tired, that he’s too fucked to think properly, at least you hope so, given your previous actions, and are surprised when he kisses you with so much intensity that you fall backwards onto the bed.

You giggle slightly, spreading your legs wide so Yeonjun has no trouble slipping inside, the fact that you got so fucking turned on by him made obvious the moment he makes contact with your dripping pussy.

He teasingly pulls out, tapping your clit with his tip, and you moan, arching your back and closing your eyes. “Juni…” you grumble in frustration. 

He laughs, tongue-kissing you and thrusting back in, a smirk on his lips. “How do you want me to fuck you?”

You pause, thinking about this, then answer. “I want you to fuck me like you own me.”

He hums, rolling his hips into yours slowly, achingly slow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, kitten, because I do.”

You gasp at the pleasure his words send through your body, your grip tightening on his forearm. “You know what I mean, Juni…”

He pretends to consider this before licking up the side of your neck, his thrusts growing deep and fast, just the way he knows will make you a mess for him, the way he knows hits all your sensitive spots.

“Oh- oh, Juni.” you bite your lip against the pleasure, nails digging into his arm. His tip hits the perfect spot inside you, and you can’t help but moan, jolting in reaction. “Keep going, keep going, fuck…”

He hums against your skin. “Am I being good?”

You nod quickly, yes, yes he is, and him being good is making you feel good as fuck. 

A soft, sheepish smile grows on his lips at your movement. “How good?”

Oh, and now he just wants you to say it. Because obviously, you can’t show how good he is and how good you feel without using your words, and the praise, to Yeonjun, the reminder that he and his body are making you feel the way no one else can, is the best part for him.

“So good, Juni, such a good boy for me,” you manage to choke out as your lips find his again.

He whimpers into the kiss, and you can feel him twitch inside you, the sensation bringing you even higher than you already are.

“Gonna cum for me, hm Juni?” You tease against his lips, tightening around him.

Yeonjun nods, burying his face in your neck, and you can feel the shake of his breath as he gets closer and closer, and it’s only when you again feel his tears on your skin that you realize how fucking exhausted he must be.

“Cum for me, Juni, okay?” You whisper, holding him close against you, your own body quivering as you reach your peak.

“Love you, love you, love you,” he mumbles into your skin, and your heart melts at the sound of his voice, so breathless as he cums, for the third time that night, hot liquid spilling inside you.

You cum around him almost simultaneously, your walls fluttering around him as you moan out, his name leaving your lips so many times you can’t even count. “Juni, Juni, Juni, Juni, Juni, Juni, dont stop, don’t stop, Juni please…” you gasp, although it’s pointless, you’re already peaking. You collapse together, him quite a bit more tired than you.

You keep his head on your chest, fingers playing with his hair. “You did so good, Juni,” you praise, kissing his forehead.

Yeonjun smiles tiredly at you, his eyes glazed. “Thank you, baby,” he whispers in response, burying his face in your neck again. “‘M tired now… you made me feel so good today, though. If this is what happens when I have a bad day, I should have them more often.” 

He’s joking and you know it, pressing your lips to the crown of his head. “Or, you know, you can just ask me to focus on you. I like the way you taste, if you want me to go down on you I’d be more than happy too,” you tease back, although you’re completely serious.

Yeonjun laughs quietly, his breathing growing steadier. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And I’ll keep in mind that you like me calling you a good boy,” you smile slightly. You know you’re only keeping him awake, but you’ve got one thing to ask. 

“Did I make you feel better?”

“Oh yes, yes you did,” he whispers in response. “Much better.

“In fact, wake me up in two hours, do it again, and it might be the best day I’ve ever had.”

[valuunit]

Yearly Styles' Family Awards

Summary: in the middle of a pandemic, the Styles kids want to recreate an award show like the ones their parents used to go to.

some adorable and cute inexistent scenarios to cope with life :)

Content: husband!dadrry x wife&mom!Y/n (fluff), kids. Mention of covid and the pandemic (2021/2022), she/her Y/n. Food (kinda). A slight reference to sex (nothing deep, there'll be time for that ;) ).

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if there’s any mistake i’m sorry, i’ll try to correct it. It’s not proofreader yet (☞ ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞.

“Honey, honey, no, no, no. Mum's busy right now.” Harry whispered carrying his daughter who was trying to enter her mother's office.

“But I want to show her my drawing. And I want more paint." she squirmed in Harry's arms, trying to go back.

“You can have all the paint you want, but in a couple of minutes, remember that mommy's getting an award? That's why we baked the cake.” Harry was on his knees distracting the fidgety girl.

“You mean I baked it?” she giggled.

“Oh, so that's how you treat your assistant?” Harry combed the rebellious curly hair of Melody. She continued giggling.

“I thought there weren't gonna be fans waiting for me this time.” an optimistic voice said. Y/n, with sweatpants and a pretty blouse, was admiring her family.

“Mommy!” the girl jumped into her arms, Y/n rapidly caught her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, sunshine. What happened here?” she pointed to the pajama top of her kid, with chocolate and paint stains all over it, and looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow, he just smiled like saying 'sorry'.

“I made you a cake and a drawing.”

“Lie!” exclaimed Harry standing back up with a jump.

Melody held onto her mother's neck tightly and exclaimed, "Don't listen to him!".

“I left for thirty minutes!” she slowly put her daughter down because she was starting to strangulate her.

Harry softly laughed and went to hug her. “Congratulations, love. I'm proud of you.” and then he gave her a kiss.

“Thanks, H.” their little bubble popped with a cry, their baby boy. They giggled.

“I'll go, and let you see the cake that Mel and I made for you.” he gave his daughter a final look and Melody shook her head with a smile.

“Okay, I also want to see the cause for this colorful mess” Y/n returned her attention to the little girl, who grabbed her hand and let her into the kitchen.

“What did you win, mommy?” she said sitting on the island.

“Well... I'm not gonna bore you, but every year there are events to recognize the work of people, this time was for the book that I wrote.”

“The one with my drawing on the cover?”

“Yes! I guess you're also a winner” She giggled at the expression of the kid, she looked amazed.

“Where is it!”

“I think it's arriving in a couple of days.” she pinched the girl's nose.

“Why can't you go? I remember that you and daddy went to other places for more awards before.”

“Baby, remember that we have to stay at home, it's not safe right now.”

“But it will be?”

“Of course, honey. One day it'll be safe and perfectly fine, and one day you can go to those events if you want to.” Y/n couldn't help but feel sad and nostalgic, she brushed a piece of hair off of Mel's face to caress her puffy cheek.

“Of course I want to! Can I go with all the pretty clothes and makeup that you use? Or like the daddy's suits!”

Y/n laughed, getting herself as excited as her daughter.

“Well, one day, I promise.”

“But we have to start planning everything now.”

Mel's green eyes, incredibly alike to Harry's, looked at her hopeful, she also put her hands together in the form of pleading. And how could she say no to that adorable package, and an even better thing than just putting on clothes, something bigger?

“I have another idea..”

The famous chocolate cake just sat on the counter, while the mother-daughter duo ran upstairs.

“How's he?” said Y/n entering Daniel's room.

“Just wanted Puffy,” Harry said leaning in the crib watching adoringly his son playing with his beloved bunny plushie.

“He's a simple little man.”

“Let him be.” her husband turned around to face her. Y/n grabbed one of his hands and change the tone of her voice to a very sweet one.

“So, I was talking with Mel... we were talking about the award shows and that stuff, and I kinda made the suggestion of making an event here... like, right now, well no, tomorrow but you know, the assembling and that.”

“Okay.” he laughed. “So, we're hosting an award show.” she nodded “That's adorable, my love. I love it.”

“Uf, I knew you'll like it. Thanks, sweetheart.” she kissed his lips lightly. “I'll watch him from now on, go help Mel.”

“I'm expecting an award,” he whispered patting her bum on his way out.

“Dad!” Mel's high-pitched voice made its way into her parent's bedroom. She sounded desperate.

“What's the matter, honey?” Harry walked into her bedroom in full glam. He was wearing one of his old suits from Live on Tour just testing if it still fitted him.

“I don't know what to wear.” his daughter groaned, some cute dresses and suits on the carpet of her room.

“What about this one?” he took a plain black suit, in his opinion an adorable piece.

“It's too simple. I want one like yours.” she pouted and pulled from the shiny fabric of his blazer. His heart melted.

“Aw.” and then it hit him. “Oh, wait. I think I have one like mine for you.” he grabbed her hand and let her into his bedroom.

He dug up in the closet. He knew he kept the suit from the Kiwi music video. At that time Melody was barely a two-year-old but he treasured it for the right moment, now for example.

“Yeah, here. Do you like it?”

“Wow. Yes! It's so beautiful. Thanks, daddy!”

Harry's deep voice said quietly, "Tomorrow is the big day. You should try to get some sleep."

“I'm just finishing this” answered his wife, she was holding a paintbrush with which she was completing a cute banner with the words 'Yearly Styles' Family Awards'.

“Yearly Styles' family awards?” he whispered “Clever, love.”

“I know you're joking, but thanks.”

“Need any help?” he said sitting on the edge of the couch watching his wife in awe.

“You can cut out some circles in those sheets. Just use the red, yellow, and blue.”

“Mhm,” he mumbled quickly doing so.

Y/n looked up from the 's' she was working at that moment. She watched the ellipse-shape-like circles in the hands of her husband, recalling him wearing his old suit, he looked so similar and yet changed so much at the same time. It made her head hurt thinking of all the time that have passed since they ever met.

She was beginning to be a recognized lyricist in the pop industry and ended up writing songs for the album Midnight Memories. One day, when she was having a meeting with Louis Tomlinson, showing him a couple of songs, Harry walked into the hotel room.

At first, Harry rapidly exited the room, shouting sorry's, thinking they were in a private moment, but soon after they got presented by Louis.

“M'Harry. Nice to meet you. And, you know, sorry.”

“I know. Y/n, don't worry, you did nothing.”

“'kay, now, can we get finished? I want pizza...” Louis groaned like a toddler.

“Calm down, mate” said Y/n imitating his accent. He shoved her off and grinned, she didn't knew why.

Shortly after she began to encounter Harry very often. They began to talk more and grow closer, and when they exchanged phones they talked every single day via text and facetime, something they still do to this day.

Almost a year later they began to date. The relationship was kind of secret, with just the guys from the band and family and very close friends knowing, until Y/n got pregnant two years into the relationship.

A lot was happening with the band's hiatus. All the eyes were on Harry and became impossible to hide from the public.

They went through a lot of public scrutiny and unasked comments since anyone understood how that relationship happened without anyone knowing, and the hate and nasty gossip only made their bond even more, just for Melody to make them inseparable.

All of that and more went through her head for just watching Harry with a suit from some years ago. That made her want to cry, happy tears.

“You okay, honey?” his deep voice snapped her out of her line of thought. She moved her gaze from his hands to his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay, I was just feeling melancholic...”

“About what?” he says leaving the scissors on the armrest of the couch.

“Watching you in your suit... Oh! And Melody's one, she looked adorable, I didn't know you kept it.” Y/n said standing up and walking to Harry, placing herself between his legs.

“I forgot to tell you, at the end I was asked if I wanted to keep some of the things, I wish I also kept the one I used.” his hands went to her hips as if they were magnets near some pure metal curve.

“Well, you still looked very handsome in the shiny jacket.” she grabbed the collar of his hoodie to attract his face to hers.

“I thought you said you liked me more in hoodies and sweatpants than fancy clothes,” he whispered looking at her lips.

“I actually like you more in your birthday suit, but you will always look great, even with a potato sack.”

“You missy, stop it now, otherwise I'm not responsible for what might happen later.”

Y/n just kissed him passionately. Her hands were still on his hoodie, while he's changed to her lower back.

The room had some light jazz in the background with the breaths from the couple as the protagonists.

Y/n pushed away from the kiss. “Wanna go to the bedroom?” she said quietly.

“What about this?” he shook his head towards the sign. He had a cocky smile, she knew he was just playing with her, but she can do that too. She liberated herself from his grip and turned her back to him.

“Oh, yeah. Well, I'll finish this-” and before she finished her sentence, Harry's hands were on her waist lifting her up. She squealed and giggled. “You're getting way too comfortable carrying everyone shorter than you around.”

He chuckled and let her go. “We can finish the sign tomorrow.” then he winked offering her his hand, which Y/n took. They walked to their bedroom as quietly as possible and locked the door.

“Mummy! Daddy!” a quiet knock startled the couple. Y/n jumped out of Harry’s embrace to put on something more than his hoodie she wore that night as pajama.

“A moment sweetie!” instinctively, she turned to the clock above the door, it makes 8 am. She groaned.

By this time, Harry was on his knees looking for the sweatpants he had been wearing the day before, which had probably been thrown away somewhere in the room a couple hours ago.

Y/n opened the door without expecting no one, she picked her head an turned around inspecting the surroundings quickly spotting her daughter carrying her brother out of his room.

“Even he was awake earlier.”

“I’m sorry, sunshine.” she kissed her head and blended over to take Danny, also giving him a kiss. “Good morning.”

“It’s okay, it was fun watching him blow bubbles with his drool.”

Y/n chuckled. Three out of four Styles walked into the master bedroom, Harry was standing next to the bed completely stiff. Y/n couldn’t help but let out another laugh.

“Good morning, daddy.” Mel we go to hug him.

“Morning. honey.”

“I have a schedule for today.” the girl said sitting on the bed.

“Really?” asked Y/n surprised. She loved the ideas of her girl.

“Yes! I was watching some videos and pictures. Is there a red carpet?”

“We have a beige carpet.”

“It’ll work.” she nodded with confidence. Harry and Y/n shared a proud look.

“Okay, little director. You can tell us about your plan at breakfast, how’s that sound?” Y/n said giving her a big smile.

“Can I have waffles?”

“Of course you can.”

“Yay!”

“To the left- no, the other left.”

“So the right...”

“No, my left your right.”

“We have the same left and right, darlin'” the both adults chuckled.

“What's taking so long! I want to start with the hair and makeup.” Melody entered the living room with two bags and a hair straightener.

“Where did you find those?“ Y/n said taking the black flat iron from her little hands.

“Your bathroom.” the girl simply said. “Is everything done? I already have the award winners.”

“Can we know who they are?” Harry asked playful.

“No.” Mel smiled.

“Not even the nominees?” Y/n continued.

“No, it's a surprise.”

“Fine, at least I won something?” her dad sat on an armchair crossing his arms and pouting.

“One, maybe two. But makeup and hair. Now.”

“You're being quite bossy today, Mel.” Y/n said ruffling through the curls of her daughter, Melody stood up and put a hand on her hip, forming an adorable pose. Both of her parents laughed, and so did she, hell, even her little brother. “I'll do the hair and you take care of the makeup. If you want there's some in my-”

“Third drawer on your closet's vanity.” she finished her mum's sentence walking to said vanity.

Y/n looked at her in disbelief and turned to look at Harry. “I swear, she's the perfect mix between you and me.”

“The best of two worlds.” he smiled as their baby was squealing, demanding some attention. Harry picked him up. “What are you going to wear today, buddy?” his baby just looked at him deep in the eye.

“Oh! I know. That cute suit with the gray vest.”

“The one mum sent?” His gaze returned to his wife. She nodded. “Ah, I love that little outfit, I want one for myself.”

“It seems like I need to wear a blazer and pants or I'll look left out of my family.” the woman giggled while playing with the little chubby fingers of her child.

“You know what you should wear?” she hummed in response looking at him again. “The Coperni vest with the matching pants.”

“I love you and your sense of fashion.” she kissed his lips.

“I imagine something purple” Melody put her hand on her chin thinking.

“I trust you, sweetie” Y/n had a sweatband stopping her hair from interrupting the process.

“You in purple and daddy in pink!” she clapped in excitement. “And me in blue and Danny in… black?”

“Maybe Danny can go without makeup, i think he’s skin is a little too sensitive for now.” she looked at her daughter with a warm smile.

“Yeah, you’re right mum.”

“Well, let’s get to work, I still have to do everyone’s hairs.” Melody smiled even more exited and went floor the products she needed.

“Not yours.” the voice of her husband creeped from behind, caressing her hair. “I can do it.”

“Uh. I don’t know if i trust you with hair. Remember Mel’s winter festival incident.” Harry looked at her with a offended look.

“It was just a slip, and her ear is fine.”

Melody returned. “I have a scar.”

“And I’m sorry, honey. But tell mommy how much I’ve improve.”

“Uh, well, you are better.” she shook her head in agreement. “You’re in… good hands mum.”

Y/n laughed and said “Okay, I’ll confide in my star stylist’s word.”

At the end Y/n ended up with a glowy cosmic like makeup, not bad for an almost 8-year-old, and a half ponytail, not bad for a Harry.

In Harry’s turn her daughter took a similar approach in his makeup, just different colors. She used a lot of glittery and bright colors, a lot of highlighter as well. Later his wife combed his hair very simple.

While Melody was doing her own makeup, with Harry’s assistance, Y/n was dressing Daniel up. He looked like a little gentleman from the 40s with his outfit.

“I want all my hair down.” said Melody, her hair ended up being just her natural curls better only better groomed, and with some shiny golden clips.

“It’s beige carpet time!”

Y/n staged her and Harry’s phone in two different angles to record the event as well as using a regular camera to take the pictures. The first one in pass was Melody. She wore her suit with admirable confidence, walked to the middle of the hall and pose for her mom. Some serious, some silly and done.

The next one was Harry with Danny in his arms. Harry was a natural in front of the cameras and as confident as his daughter. Danny was just giggling and going along.

Thirdly, Y/n, at first she felt a little self conscious, but with her family cheers she remembered there was nothing to be anxious about, she was in the confort of her own home with the people she loved the most. She walked through the soft material in her bare foot. She loved her outfit and according to Harry, she was rocking it. Harry took her photos.

And last but not least, they set up the camera to take a couple of family pics, most of which were very blurry, but it was a lot of fun.

no Then they moved to the living room, it was time for the award ceremony. Melody made six different envelopes with the confidential information.

“Good afternoon to everyone. I’m happy to announce the first event of the yearly Styles’ family awards.” she said standing on an old coffee table and with an unplugged karaoke microphone.

Y/n and Harry were sitting on the floor resting their backs in the couch, Danny was sitting between his mum’s legs.

Harry cupped his mouth and cheered. “Woo!”

“Thanks.” Y/n and Harry chuckled. “The first award of the day is…” Y/n grabbed an iPad and played a drum sound. “The best mum in the life...” she looked at the sign of the Yearly Styles’ Family Awards. “Am. If the year. Best mum of the year.”

“Oh god, who could it be…” Harry whispered with his hands covering his mouth.

“The winner is…” iPad drums. “Y/n Styles-Y/l/n!”

“Oh god, yes! Can you…” she passed the baby to Harry, and he gave her a peck. “Yay!”

The awards were origami pigeons, also made by Mel. Y/n received her first one, and hopefully not last, award. “Congrats, mommy.”

“Thanks, sunshine. Oh god. Ahm… I don’t know what to say. Thanks to the ones that made me a mother.” she look at her family sitting in front of her. “It’s the best thing that ever happened to me, it motivates me every day to wake up and see your beautiful faces and hear your voices. I love you, my angels. And a honorary mention to your daddy. It literally wouldn’t be possible without you.”

“Yeah, mamma!” said Harry.

Melody stepped back up and presented the next award. “Next… best dad of the year.” this time i read of a drums sound effect there was an ad. “Again. The best dad of the year…” drums. “Harry Styles-Y/l/n!”

“Yeah!” Harry punched the air. “Thanks, honey.” he carefully grabbed his pigeon. “Hm… Love, i’m gonna copy your speech, a little bit, I hope that doesn’t bother you.” He smiled to Y/n, who shook her head and smiled back. “Perfect. So, I always knew I wanted to be a dad, but i never knew that it would be this great. Waking up to see you is a blessing every time, I love you all more than anything. Thanks.” he blowed a kiss to his family.

“Great speeches tonight!” she exclaimed. “Okay. The next one is…” a different video of drums. “Best little brother/son of the year!”

Y/n stood up with Danny in her arms, he laughed don’t knowing what was going on. Harry also stood up cheering his son.

“Congrats, baby D.” his sister kissed his cheek.

“Look love, it’s yours.” Y/n took his pigeon and showed it to him.

“Ah!” he responded.

“So touching.” Harry said and hugged his son.

“Before the next award. We’ll go to an ad break a.k.a this little guy needs some food.” Y/n said before Melody went back to the podium. Y/n and Danny went to the kitchen.

“Daddy.” Melody said quietly. “I need your help.”

“What’s the matter?”

“There’s a category of best parent… I don’t have a winner. You are both the bests parents in the universe.” she whispered looking to the floor.

“Aw, honey, that’s so sweet.”

“I don’t want to make anyone feel bad.” she pouted.

“Well, we could ended in a tie.”

“That’s boring.”

Harry chuckled. “Okay. Ahm. I don’t know. A competition?”

“Like an eating competition.”

“Yeah… Or it could be race.”

“Ohh! A race with us on your backs.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a tie, honey?”

“Yeah, maybe it’s easier.”

“It’s easier for my back too.”

“Okay, old man. A tie.”

“Eh!”

“I need to make a new pigeon!”

After a new pigeon and a cop yoke of seconds later, Y/n walked into the living room. Danny’s head was in her shoulder, his eyes looked sleepy. “Ad break finished.”

“Okay, fifth award of the night. Best older sister/daughter of the year.” she stood in the low table and said “Am. Thank you to me, for this award. Thank you to my mum and dad for creating me and my baby brother, i wouldn’t be a daughter nor a sister without you, and yada yada yada. Ahm… yeah thanks, love you lots.”

“Woo!” said Y/n quietly.

“But the final and most competitive one. The best parent of the year…”

“Oh god.” Y/n gasped and covered her mouth.

“This was a tough one. But after some deliberation the result is.” the iPad’s sound went down a half, but it still played. “It was a tie. Y/n and Harry Styles-Y/l/n are the best parents.”

“That’s so cute.” Y/n left Danny laying on the couch. “Thanks, sunshine.”

“We did a great job in here.” Harry whispered in her ear before kissing her neck. His hands rounded her waist and gave her a side hug. Soon after Melody joined the hug.

That memory filled their brains and their phones’.

[kakujis]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓… ☽

geto vers | baji vers

synopsis: when your husband and best friend are targeted by a hitman, the aftermath leaves you in shock. but suguru has always instilled one line into you: forever has no meaning unless you're in it.

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!suguru, vampire!choso, vampire!satoru, hitman!toji, character death ( + resurrection), depictions of blood and violence, almost blind devotion, a bit angsty but also fluffy.. but also not really? idk what to tag this as LOL, canon divergent (gojo n geto are attacked much later in life), you have no clue they’re sorcerers 👍, swearing, sfw, if choso is ooc im so sorry idk barely anything about/cldnt get a read on his character from one episode djknj

ft + wc: vampire!suguru x reader, 3.2k

tags: @enchantedforest-network, @em1e (u guys should totally read em's necromancy fic btw)

a/n: hi! idk wtf this is, this is just how i deal with chara death i think? this idea came to me when i realized i was writing two fics about dealing with grief (baji fans are u here ?) and wrote nearly 2k for both in one sitting haha. anyways, i feel like atp i'm edda from ffxiv coded except suguru is 1000x better than avere. if you'd like to listen to her theme, it's here. thank u to wallaby for proofreading!

there is something about the morning light, filtered through the white blinds that you’ve forgotten so many times to replace, that feels just like a hug. it’s this light that kisses your eyelids and pulls you out of bed faster than your mother on a school morning. 

you’ll yawn, then stretch, pulling your arms up and over your head arching your back as you do. then you’ll get up, set up a pot of coffee before heading off to brush your teeth and wash your face. and you’ll pretend that you don’t see the eyes, red and shimmering, from the shadows in your closet.  

“go to bed suguru,” you sigh, before lightly pressing onto your puncture marks, hissing when they’re still tender. “it’s morning.” 

“i could fix that… if you’d let me.” he responds, the hinges of your door creaking ever so slightly before you gasp and rush to close them before the light bleeds in. 

“don’t!” you snap, hand trembling, “don’t… you dare.” 

you crouch down, before slotting your pinky into the smallest slit you can with the door still providing adequate coverage. before long, his cold finger entangles with yours and you smile. 

“by the way babe, when are we moving?” he jokes and when your eyes finally adjust to the dark, you can see him stretch his limbs, hands entangling with your hanging clothing. “it’s pretty cramped in here not gonna lie.” 

“well… i put in that application a few weeks ago and they did get back to me… so soon. we just need to go through the final steps.” you reply, fighting the urge to crawl into that small space with him and sleep the day off. 

when it comes to suguru, you’d do anything and everything, from the hairs on your head to the tips of your toes, you pledged yourself to him fully. 

“gonna go to work?” he asks and you nod, albeit with a pout. he snickers when he sees your expression, “aw, don’t cry. i’ll be right here.” 

you bite your lip, trying your best not to draw blood because you know. you know that suguru will always be right there, whenever you need him. 

you made sure of it. 

-

his name was choso. you remember the night you met him after a round of drinks at the bar. he was nice, if not a bit quiet, and loved to talk about his siblings. suguru and satoru talked aimlessly with shoko while you made new friends. it was a fun little past time. 

you don’t remember how you left the bar or how he even convinced you to follow him out. your mind muggy as you followed him, like a moth to a flame, down a back alley before you finally snapped to your senses and shoved him off before he could make a move. it wasn’t until you saw the razor sharp pearly whites of his teeth that you stopped. 

you asked him what he was, but he simply shrugged, asking, “have you ever dreamt about being saved from someone or something?” 

you nodded, of course you did. everyone has. 

“then that’s me. something you can dream about.”

it was a cryptic message, but a message you got nonetheless. choso was not of the day, flourishing under the midnight sky. but for some reason, he wasn’t necessarily scary. in the small amount of time you had spent, he seemed to listen to you and your woes. gotten to know a little bit of your family history, and perhaps decided you would do better with his. 

you remember hearing suguru’s panic laced voice calling out for you and you spun around to call back out. turning back, choso was gone. with a hand placed on your shoulder you were pulled into a tight embrace. 

“where were you?” suguru asks, nearly crushing you in the heat of his body, “almost lost my mind trying to find you.” he glances behind you, eyes scanning the alleyway in search of something or someone. 

“honestly… i don’t even know how i got out here,” you mumbled into his shoulder, hands trailing the familiar sensation of his clothing. “can we go home?” 

“yeah, i’ll just let gojo-“ 

“no!” you exclaimed, the uneasiness in your stomach now palpable, as you balled your fists into the fabric of his shirt, “let’s go now, please.” 

he blinks, before nodding, “okay, yeah, okay. let’s go home.” he presses a kiss to your forehead, almost like a seal of protection, before he’s throwing his arm around you and walking you home. 

you don’t ever recall meeting toji fushiguro. it was just another night out underneath flickering street lights, outside the same bar where you met choso, the street familiar yet empty. your husband smoked into the evening air, the scent wafting over and tickling your nose. 

“no offense, satoru, but i didn’t listen to a single thing you just said.” he stated, lips curled up into a smirk with the cigarette dangling between his fingers. 

“good,” satoru snorts, before glancing at you, “i wasn’t asking for their opinion anyway.” 

you feign ignorance, perking up and asking, “hm? what were we talking about?” 

“man the two of you are so fucking annoying.” he whines, head hung back as you both laugh. 

“care for a third opinion?” a voice asks and you gasp, jumping back. 

the man was tall, handsome, with dark hair and a scar on his lip, wearing a simple outfit of a tee and sweatpants. he seemed otherworldly as well, just like choso. maybe, it was the aura he exuded, more like the lack of, but it set your hairs up on end. 

suguru was quick to pull you behind him as your fingers instantly grabbed onto his shirt. 

“don’t really care for a stranger’s opinion,” satoru drawls, glancing over the tips of his sunglasses. but you can read his body easily, a culmination of friendship over the years. it was screaming: danger. 

“c’mon, don’t be like that. why don’t we introduce ourselves then? i���m toji.” he said, sticking his hand out for a handshake. but neither satoru nor suguru moved to grab it, instead they tensed, waiting. 

“suguru.” satoru whispered, a command with only one word. he understood exactly what it meant. you don’t remember suguru being able to run so fast, the force from his pull almost knocking the air out of you. nor do you remember satoru being able to fight so efficiently. 

you do remember suguru hiding you away and making you wait, even when you tried to hold onto him, he assured you it’d be fine and made you wait. but seconds ticked into minutes, long, monotonous minutes that made the pit of uneasiness in your stomach bloom into a festering bouquet of chrysanthemums. 

“suguru?” you called, stepping out into the dreary moonlight. no response. 

“satoru?” you tried again, quietly walking back towards the area they were in originally. it’s strange how quickly the night changes, how suddenly the flickering street lights aren’t an annoyance but one of your only sources of comfort, as if the dark can swallow you. 

“suguru,” you call out again, voice teetering on a breakdown and eyes scanning the desolate street.  “please res-“ 

you stop suddenly, the sickening squelch of something warm pooling beneath your feet halts you. you feel sick as you start to take in shallow breaths, eyes following the stream of ichor until it reaches its source.

suguru. 

you remember dragging his lifeless body down that familiar back alley. knowing that anyone would be able to see that trail of blood and find you. the darkness of that alley covered you, looming over you like a guardian, while the scent of trash almost, almost, covered the sharp tinge of iron that permeated the air.  

you propped suguru up against the wall as best you could, your body still thrumming with adrenaline. “just gimme a sec, okay?” you mumbled through tears, knowing that he couldn’t hear you. “i’ll figure it out, just like you always do.” 

you’re not sure why you were compelled to scream out that name, but maybe it was because in your dreams, he appeared when you least expected him too. 

“choso!” you screamed, waiting for a brief moment before you filled your lungs with air once more and tried again. “choso!” 

nothing. 

choso!

still nothing. 

and when nothingness almost consumed you, taking you into it’s ghostly clutches, you felt it: the sudden heaviness in the air. 

you feel like you screamed for hours, the name tumbling off your tongue and into the moonlit air like a siren song. just a little less pretty. in reality, it was probably only a few minutes before the brunette arrived, dark rimmed eyes and all. your new guardian “angel”. 

“he looks pretty bad if you ask me.” he started, already crouching down to your level, before reaching up to brush the red coated strands away from suguru’s face. “looks pretty dead.” 

“fix it.” you whispered, continuing even after choso shot you a look. “fucking fix him.” 

“what makes you think i can do that?” 

and in that moment, you feel compelled to tell him about the dreams that you’ve been having lately. the ones where he’s in them, beckoning you to stay under his protection. call for me and i’ll be there. 

but you keep it simple, too pressed for time. “you’re in my dreams, right?” you answer. 

he’s quiet, face softening as he mulls over your words. “good to know.” his eyes wander over to the crimson trail, that bleeds from the streetlamps to your waiting spot. “he’ll probably find you.” 

“toji?” you ask and he nods, “i don’t even know why he’s after us.” 

“he’s not after you, he’s after him.” he says, cupping suguru’s face, dribbles of blood falling from his mouth, and you twitch, almost reaching out to snatch his hand away, “he’s never liked sorcerers.” 

“sorcery…?” you mumble, glancing once more at your lifeless husband. 

but you’ve never heard that word, believing that magic cannot exist, that what you saw could not be explained so easily. there is no magic, only reality, and what is this but such painful, excruciating reality that sucks the air from your lungs and the color from your eyes.

choso dodges the question, “well then. let’s get out of here.” before he places a palm on the back of your neck, sending you back off to dream. 

there’s a voice that pulls him out of the light. low and drumming, it snaps him back into the present and out of his stupor. he sits up, scrambling to make sense of just where he is and who is talking to him. the bed he’s in is similar to a hospital bed, although the white sheets are now stained red. 

“… stay out of the sunlight, feed only when you’re hungry, animal blood counts, it just doesn’t taste that good,” choso continues listing things off, not taking into the account the shock etched so firmly into suguru’s face. “you can feed on them and if they ever wanna turn, let me know, i’ll teach you how to do it.” 

suguru whips his head around, spotting you sitting in a chair with blood covered and bruised knees, the sweat and tears now dried on your face. you glance up at him, giving a little wave and a tired smile. he notes the dried blood that seems to be caked even under your fingers. 

“what the fuck did you do to them?” 

“you mean, what did i do to you?” the brunette retorts. “you wanted to stay together, right? now you can.” he answers, crossing his arms and leaning back against his desk. but suguru’s not sure if he’s asking him or you, the one who smells so much sharper and sweeter than he remembers. you also smell of blood. so much blood that he can hear it coursing through you with each thump of your heartbeat. 

and like a moth to a flame, you stand on wobbly knees, the pads of your feet hitting the floor in sluggish steps as you pad over and throw yourself onto your lover. 

“don’t be mad at me,” you whisper, your eyelids fluttering as you try to fight back your tears. “i thought i could figure things out like you always do… because i always rely on you, right? i was too scared to be alone.” 

he’s so cold now and you’re so unbearably warm, the perfect juxtaposition of your souls. although he doesn’t need to, he takes a deep breath, before pulling you into his embrace. 

“you’re cold, sugu.” you mumble, yet you press harder, deeper into his embrace. 

“is that a turn off?” he jokes because he can’t be mad at you, not now and not ever. and any fragments of anger always dissipate like a puff of smoke. you giggle, before finally giving in and crying, digging your nails into his stiff skin. you cry until you can’t anymore, going limp and falling asleep in his arms. 

suguru’s gaze shifts upwards, as he holds you protectively, one arm wrapped firmly around your lower back, the other on the back of your head, fingers laced in your hair. 

“so, no introductions?” he asks, trying to be friendly, although the intonation in his voice betrays him. it’s first time meeting such a strange man, who can blame him? 

certainly not choso, who responds in turn, “my bad. you can call me choso. i fixed you up on their behalf.” 

“and satoru?” he asks, scanning the room to see if he can find the familiar white tufts of hair. 

“is fine,” choso replies, before jutting a finger out towards you, “they made sure to cover all the bases.” 

suguru shifts you in his hold, pressing a kiss to your forehead, that familiar seal of protection once again placed within your being. but also, as thanks for trying to keep everyone safe.

“then, where is he?” he asks while the other sighs and points over to another bed in the corner. dark eyes follow and the familiar tufts of silver hair peek immediately confirm it’s satoru. 

“he’s gonna wake up soon too. i’ll fill him in on the details.” before suguru can reply he’s cut off, “you should go soon, before the sun rises.” 

“am i actually a vampire?” 

“vampire, dracula, nosferatu, the undead. you can choose whatever you want.” 

“… i see.” he pauses, glancing back at satoru’s sleeping form before deciding he’ll be fine on his own. “we’ll be going then. …thanks.” 

he places his feet on the floor, still wearing his shoes from earlier and starts to walk off, cradling you in his arms. 

“when you feed, geto, don’t overdo it. or they will die.” 

he stops mid-step, gripping you tighter in his embrace, his brow furrowed, before finally walking off. 

you really should’ve taken a photo for satoru of the realtor’s perplexed expression when only you showed up to a three bedroom home, insistent on your need for space. 

when you do get that house, situated so nicely in the countryside, away from the buzz of the city, you think about what life would be like if you changed. if you no longer saw the sunlight. but you shake your head, pressing your fingers up to your neck once more, rubbing over the now scabbing indentations. 

you know suguru can’t feast on you forever as your body ages and his does not. but the thought of him feeding on someone else makes your stomach turn. 

“woow,” satoru hums, breaking you out of your trance as he takes in the new home, “not bad! not bad at all.” 

you smile, “thanks, satoru. i wanted to make sure you had your own space too.” 

“whats the third room for?” he asks, peeking his head in as he saunters around the new home. 

“office space.” you reply, “remember i work from home?” 

he nods, replying, “ooh, makes sense,” before he’s suddenly in front of you. his once crystalline blue eyes, now a deep crimson. “can i get a quick snack? i’m hungry.” 

“always so insatiable, satoru.” you tsk, rolling your eyes, but hold up your wrist anyway.

“not my fault you just so happen to be the best tasting human around.” he says, smiling against the thin skin of your wrist. 

luckily for you, he’s fast, the pain is almost nonexistent beyond the prick of his fangs but you still shut your eyes, waiting for it to be over. and when it’s over, gojo thanks you for the meal with a large bow before leaving to settle in his room. 

it’s so different from suguru who plans out the days that he’ll feed, keeping you in his clutches for what seems like hours as he sips away at your blood, making sure to maximize the experience.

the blood loss always makes you so dizzy, dizzy and pliant. he likes to watch over you afterwards, splayed against the sheets, fingertips running over your veins as if he’s painting over them in hues of ice. 

in your half-conscious state you never notice the furrow of his brow as he contemplates turning you every single time. you won’t last forever, too fragile, too soft, too alive. and suguru believes that forever only exists if you are in it as well. he asks you one night, while the house is almost too still, if you’d stay with him forever. 

“… of course…” you murmur, head dazed and body heavy, “always, sugu.” 

“even if you lose yourself?” 

“i can’t… lose myself if i’m with you.” you smile contently, reaching out to him with one shaky hand. 

“then how would you feel…” he asks, fingertips snaking up the veins of your neck, “if i turned you?” you shiver under his touch, eyelids fluttering not only at the sensation but also the low timbre of his voice. 

“turn me?” you mumble, pressing your hand against his, encouraging him to continue carressing your skin, “like… choso did with you?” 

he grins, albeit a small one and nods. hand now exploring the curves of your face, “just like that.” and while his hand is ice cold, it sears your skin with his touch, a testament to how deeply you’ve fallen. 

you pout, finally relaying your fears, “won’t you feed on others though?” 

“you want me to starve?” he jokes, still running his touch over you. 

“let’s go vegan.” you hum, your consciousness starting to drift until the thrum of his fingers. 

with your eyes closed you don’t catch the expression on his face, but you catch his laugh, drifting down into your ear. “i don’t know if that’s how it works, honey.” 

“animals...” you mumble, breaths becoming deeper with each passing second. “like humans… but diet… is how choso… explained it right?” 

he smiles, letting you fall deep into sleep. he keeps his hand intertwined with yours, knowing that even in dreams you hold onto him as if you were awake. he thinks you look so beautiful in the moonlight, better even than the moon or the stars themselves. 

and he is so sure, that forever cannot exist, if you’re not in it. 

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met

word count : 4.5k

content : in this part you get angst, reader and lockwood’s backstory and some plot with a side of ‘i didn’t know where else to go’ in subtext :)))

---

They ate dinner in silence. It was clear that the two guys she had in front of her weren’t used to having people over. They were sitting around the kitchen table, notes and drawings covering the cloth beneath their plates. She read the messages closest to her. Many were about cases they probably worked over the past couple of weeks. But here and there she noticed some insults directed at Lockwood and she was glad to see she wasn’t the only one who thought those things. A drawing of a visitor caught her attention. It wasn’t very detailed but its expression seemed sad and lonely nonetheless.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“That’s the ghost we have to take care of tomorrow. It’s probably a Type One so we should be done quickly.” George answered.

“Where is the house you have to take care of?”

“Hopkins Street in Soho.”

“I’ve been on a case near there! Though it was more dangerous, the Type Two we had to contain was more threatening than we had anticipated. And the house was big too, are you gonna be okay just the two of you?”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Lockwood cut in.

“We could always add a third person, worst case scenario they just stand by…”

“I’d be happy to be there in reinforcement… And that way I could pay you back for letting me stay here.”

Lockwood was far from enthusiastic about the arrangement. y/n saw his jaw tighten as George accepted her offer to tag along.

“I’ll go to Satchell’s to restock.” He got up and aimed for the door. “You and y/n can prep the bags so we can leave when I come back.” He left the table without looking back. There was no room for discussion. It’s like he couldn’t get out fast enough. I guess the feeling is mutual then. But who cared if he couldn’t stand to be in her company either? At least she could repay George by helping him out back. And that way she didn’t have to figure out what her next move should be for another day. She could pretend to be a proper agent one more time and forget about her disgrace.

George immediately filled her in on all the research he had done on the case. Apparently even for a Type One explaining every little detail couldn’t wait until tomorrow. She listened to him ramble on about the history of the house on Hopkins Street and felt at peace for the first time that day. It reminded her of their walks back from a job early in the morning. She paid attention as much as she could until her eyes decided to close on their own.

----

It was getting unbearably cold and the fact that she was restrained to a small iron circle didn’t help her condition. The night had been a disaster so far. It made her regret Fittes, her old teammates, her decision to stay here and help. She wanted to be a true professional and apply her impeccable methods. What could be better than to follow Marissa Fittes’ instructions to the letter? What could possibly be worth denying everything her supervisors had taught her her entire career? Anthony Lockwood’s sheer will apparently justified changing everything.

It had started as soon as they had set foot inside the house. She wanted to be thorough and efficient. She offered that the group went through the house together to look at each room and possibly locate the source before facing any type of ghost. But their leader had decided otherwise and didn’t even bother to listen. He sidelined her immediately.

“You’re here in reinforcement, right? So we’ll come get you if we need a hand.” He had told her before leaving her behind surrounded by an iron chain. It made her furious. Sure, she hadn’t exactly been warm yesterday, or even polite, but still. He could really use her training and her talent. His stubbornness was really stupidity at this point. And what kind of agency didn’t have supervisors?

She was going on and on in her head about everything that was wrong with this situation when George interrupted her train of thoughts as he entered the room.

“We still haven’t found anything, we’re taking a break in the kitchen. Care to join us?”

Of course, Lockwood wouldn’t have bothered to tell her that. Instead, he greeted her with

“That tea is really awful. Who made it?” he said with a wince.

“I did, and at least I was nice enough to bring tea for everyone.” She went to pour herself a cup from a thermos she had packed.

“Well, it was your job.”

“My job was to prep the bags with George, not play housekeeper.” She said coolly without looking up. She turned her back to him so he couldn’t see the look on her face. That tea really was terrible.

“The tea isn’t the only thing that���s bitter tonight.” He said with a smirk.

She turned around to face him.

“Tea isn’t part of a regulation kit.”

“In our agency it kind of is.” He cut in.

“What I’m trying to say is that you could appreciate the intention instead of making your snide comments. Earlier you literally walked through the door shouting orders without helping us even a little and now you keep criticizing me. You can’t spend the evening reprimanding everything I do.”

“I’m in charge and I can when the work isn’t done properly.”

The room fell silent. She wanted to scream at him, hit something, anything. But this was still a haunted house. She needed to keep her emotions under control. No matter how much she wanted to put him in danger specifically, George didn’t deserve this. Ignoring the satisfied look that Lockwood gave her, she turned to George.

“Is he always so difficult to work with? I’m surprised you haven’t lost your sanity.”

“He’s actually tolerable most of the time.”

Lockwood smiled at her with a “I told you so” grin.

“But you obviously have quite an effect on him.” He told her with a wink.

His smile disappeared instantly and it was George’s turn to laugh.

“Instead of having you two brooding in separate corners of the room, maybe we could try and do the job we were hired to do?”

They went for another tour of the house, using all their senses to try to detect any activity. The only result they got was a drop in temperatures which was a start. They settled into the coldest room, figuring the source was probably nearby. They set up a circle in the center and the boys started to search anything that could be the cause of the haunting. As y/n went to pick up a figurine carved in ivory on a shelf an annoying voice interrupted her.

“I need you to stay in the circle while we look for the source.”

“But my Touch is better than yours and George’s combined! Stop being a jerk and let me do my job for the first time this evening.”

“We’ll tell you if we need reinforcement.”

As George was about to protest she raised her voice.

“I’m getting really sick of your behavior. Stop treating me like I’m a beginner. I can handle myself. I worked for the most prestigious team in the most prestigious agency for God’s sake!”

“Well, you’re not anymore. Your behavior hasn’t been much better and until I know that I can trust you I’m not letting you touch anything in this house.”

“Fine. If that’s how it’s gonna be I’ll be better off anywhere else.”

She left the room in a rush. She was putting both of her teammates in danger anyway with how angry she was getting. It was better for everyone if she left.

She went down the stairs in a hurry and slammed the door on her way out. The fresh air outside helped a little. But she would need a two-hour walk at least to calm down. She started to walk down the street as she heard footsteps running behind her.

Lockwood caught up with her and grabbed her arm to make her turn around.

“Where do you think you’re going? You don’t have anywhere to go and we organized the night with you as backup. If we don’t have you standing by you’re putting both of us at risk if something goes wrong.”

“I’m putting you two at risk anyway with how angry I am at you. I thought getting to know you would change the opinion I had of you but I was right from the start you’re just an arrogant jerk.”

“And I was right to think you were just pretentious and helpless that night we met. If it weren’t for me you’d be dead but instead you disrespect me in my own house and act surprised when I don’t trust you on a case.”

So he did remember that night. She tried to hide her surprise.

“Oh right so I’m supposed to be grateful for you ruining a perfect opportunity for my career.”

“You didn’t need me to ruin your career you handled it very well yourself.”

That stung. She turned around before he could see the tears that prickled her eyes and stormed off into the night.

“Nice one Lockwood! And I’m the one with zero social skill.” George said from the doorstep before going back inside, leaving Lockwood alone in the deserted street.

---

“y/n I need you to keep the visitor under control while we look for the source!” Kipps shouted as he ran up the stairs, followed closely by Bobby.

“But wouldn’t it be better if-” She tried to point out that her talent would be most useful if she went to look for the source herself but the boys were already gone. Reluctantly she went back to the living room, using her senses to see if the visitor had come back yet.

She was alone for now. Just her and her frustration to keep her company. After a week of strenuous efforts and late nights, her leader still didn’t seem to warm up to her. Obviously if he kept her aside and gave her tasks that didn’t let her show her full potential he could never be impressed with what she could do. But she kept her head down, it was only the first week, she needed to follow his directions to remain on his good side, or at least his neutral side. And if the visitor showed up she would do her best to fight it, maybe that would show him. She tried listening to reason the best she could, but the truth was that Kipps’s behavior vexed her. She couldn’t help feeling underestimated and a kind of sorrow rose in her. What more could she do to make him notice her? His approval was the only thing she sought at the moment. It consumed her so much that she didn’t realize the visitor had resurfaced. It started creeping up behind her when suddenly she felt a presence as the temperature dropped several degrees.

She ducked at the last minute and narrowly avoided the ghost that flew above her reaching for her neck. The phantasm was now hovering between her and the iron chain, she had no refuge. She drew her rapier unaffected and ready to fight. The ghost tried to attack again, it was aggressive and used her frustration to its advantage. She formed complicated patterns with her sword to keep it away from her. They stayed face to face like this for several minutes with no sign from Bobby nor Kipps. Her arm grew tired of this face to face. It was getting harder and harder to draw the ghost off but her mind stayed focused. Fortunately, it was hard to break her spirit. That was until a cramp painfully twisted the arm that held her rapier. The pain was so sudden that she grabbed her arm and dropped her weapon as a reflex. Probably the worst reflex to have in this situation. As her iron defense touched the floor the visitor attacked. She ducked again, getting closer to the iron chain. As she went to step inside, she tripped and broke the circle. Her rapier was out of reach. She grabbed the chain and tried to fend off the ghost with the chain, not using the flares at her belt that certainly would have caught fire inside. Where were Bobby and Kipps? She could really use a hand right now. As the phantasm got very close to touching her the door flew open.

Finally. In the darkness she only saw a silhouette in a long coat drawing the visitor’s attention away from her. She was thankful but she didn’t recognize who it was. Bobby or Kipps would have been coming from upstairs so she wondered how this stranger could have known when to barge in. Nevertheless, the diversion was enough for her to grab her rapier, ready to fight once more. The living room was lit by the ghost lamp outside. She turned around to see her rescuer fending off the phantasm. He was quick on his feet, the movements of his sword clear and precise. His posture looked elegant even in a fight. He seemed completely at ease and it didn’t look like he needed her help. Once more she felt rather useless. She remained alert but couldn’t do more than watch the scene unfold. It was like the visitor had forgotten she was in the room standing right behind it. As the fight went on the guy in front of her tried tempting it more and more each time he dodged a sudden move from the ghost. She slowly walked around to join him on the other side of the room as the ghost was getting closer each time it tried to reach him. What was he doing? The point wasn’t to tempt the ghosts but to keep them away. It’s like he found it amusing somehow. She felt a burst of energy and a shiver ran down her spine. It was getting particularly angry. She hurried to reach his side telling him to get out of the way. She held her sword high, ready to fight off the new blow she was expecting when instead she was pushed behind. She lost her balance as she was shoved against a sofa sitting in the corner of the room and tripped the reckless idiot in the same movement. He held on to the armrest to quickly stand up and stood between her and the visitor. It was getting close, too close. At the last moment it disappeared. The air warmed up and the tension that filled the room was replaced with relief. Only for a moment though.

“Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten us both killed if my team hadn’t just located the source!” She pushed him away as she stood up from the sit he had pushed her into.

“A good evening to you too. What a lovely night isn’t it?”

She looked at him in disbelief.

“You’re not even gonna acknowledge the fact you almost got killed three seconds ago?”

A voice came from the hallway.

“Tony! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

The boy rolled his eyes at her before turning around.

“Shouldn’t you be alone in your big house at this time of night?”

She had never seen Kipps like this before. Sure, he was proud most of the time, but never to that extent.

“You should thank me for saving your teammate from a certain death. I did your reputation a favor here.” He talked about her like she wasn’t standing right next to him. How could someone she met 5 minutes ago irritate her so much?

“I’m sure she could handle herself just fine.”

“I could but he didn’t really give me a chance.” She said, glaring at him. “I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control.”

“A simple thank you would have sufficed. Next time I’ll just enjoy the show from outside then.” He gave her one last look before exiting the room.

He left the same way he had come without looking back. Or at least she thought. Outside he had glanced one more time through the window where he had first seen her battling the phantasm, his lips curving slightly as he made his way back home. 

---

The memories of that night kept coming back to her, fueling her rage as she made her way down Wardour Street. He didn’t let her do her job then and he didn’t let her do her job now. And he was acting like an arrogant prick with a smug look on his face while he was doing it. Her head was heavy with the events of the past two days and she felt overwhelmed. She was angry at the universe for turning her life upside down. She had a plan and she was following it. Why did things have to change so suddenly? She was mad at her instincts for misguiding her and she hated the way she kept overreacting. The further she walked the more anger she realized she had to unpack. She had weeks of frustration from all the efforts she made to gain Kipps’s trust and approval and the ironic twist of fate that undid all that in just one day. She also had the hurt from El’s betrayal that still twisted her stomach. The uneasy feeling that something wasn’t right with Mrs Dufour. The shame of being fired. The unbearable weight of figuring out her future now that she threw away the one that she had designed for herself. She wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet and decided to focus on tonight instead. Who cared if she didn’t have a future, at least she still had a friend in the city that very kindly accepted to take her in. Well, until she left him and his colleague alone in a haunted house that is.

She regretted taking her anger out on Lockwood, though some of it was well deserved. She actually didn’t know how to feel about him. Somehow she was convinced he could have been very nice to work with if she had given him a chance from the start. On the other hand, she still wasn’t over how he literally kept her from doing her job all those weeks back. And the fact he behaved the exact same way tonight certainly didn’t help. Still, she hoped they were safe even with her gone.

The stroll did help a lot. She had been gone for half an hour but the fog in her mind already started to lift. She still needed some alone time but she really should apologize for her behavior later. The guys wouldn’t be home for a couple more hours anyway. No need to rush. She could always apologize tomorrow. And she would owe them one less night at their place.

She made her way to the border of the Thames, passing Scotland Yard on her way. It was one of the only buildings with light coming from the windows. She followed the river south, taking deep breaths to try and ease her mind. A gentle breeze rustled her hair and she finally allowed herself to relax for the first time today. The water made her feel safer and the quiet streets made her appreciate the city even more. It was a shame she couldn’t do this more often without taking risks. She could have stayed there for hours but as she leaned on a banister she noticed a boat getting weirdly close to her. It kept coming her way until a girl with a straw hat on came into view. She pointed to somewhere behind her mouthing something. Was it directed at her? She frowned mouthing “what?” back to the girl. She insisted. ‘Watch out.’, she finally understood. She turned around to see men gather and she ducked on instinct. The only people out at this time of night couldn’t be good news.

Curled up behind a brick wall, she slowly craned her neck to try and see what this was all about. There were three men standing a few feet away from her. They were partially hidden by a tree. She moved slightly to her right to have a better view. Relic men. It was very clear that this meant trouble and she needed to get out of there. She turned around, hidden behind the wall to thank the girl on the boat but she was already out of sight.

The easiest way for her to get out of there unseen was to go back the same way she came, practically on her knees the whole time to remain covered. She made slow progress but she would soon be able to reach Scotland yard and from there she could keep walking the other way. She didn’t really care where she was going as long as she was out of danger. She was reaching the last few feet when she heard a familiar voice that made her blood run cold.

“Good evening gentlemen.”

George was right. She was right. Mrs. Dufour was standing there, casually chatting with relic men. Her dismissal seemed even more unfair now. She wasn’t in such a hurry now. She could finally get her answers and get to the bottom of this.

“Did you bring it?” one of the men asked though it sounded more like an order.

“Of course I did. Here, I’m sure you’ll get a good price for it but I want 25%, no less.”

The man closest to her laughed as he dismissed her with a hand.

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s an original from Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. A piece from a prominent family like hers has got to be worth a lot more than the other pieces I brought you. And I’m putting my job on the line for this. 25 or I’ll find someone else.”

Did she really say Mrs. Overton? She was selling the clock she was supposed to bring back in a few days? y/n couldn’t believe it. How was she going to justify the missing piece to their client?

The shock made it hard to breath. She had flashbacks from the day before when she heard voices outside Mrs. Dufour’s office. She tried to step away slowly and discreetly but the friction of her feet on the ground made a sudden noise that made the group look in her direction. She stayed ducked but she heard one of the men get closer to investigate. She only had one option if she wanted to get out of here unharmed. She stood up and immediately started running. She could hear one of the men yelling to go after her from afar but she didn’t turn back to check. She hoped the supervisor didn’t recognize her but now was not the time to worry about this detail. She had more chance losing them if she got lost in the streets instead of following the river. She made a turn on her left, hoping they would lose sight of her. Instead she felt a sharp pain in her left arm. How could she get a cramp in this part of her body while running? Without slowing down she passed a hand up and down her arm to ease the pain. Instead of finding the soft fabric of her jacket her fingers met something wet. She looked down at her bloodied fingers trying to keep up her pace. Not only were these men chasing her but they were throwing knives at her. Letting them catch her wasn’t an option from the start but even less so now. She tried to ignore the sharp ache and kept running until she found a hiding spot in a deserted alleyway. She used the trashcans and piles of cardboard boxes to avoid her pursuers. They ran past her without looking back. She waited a few minutes trying to calm her breathing down.

The street was silent again, she couldn’t hear any voices or steps coming her way. She peered out from her hiding spot and only saw the ghost lamp at the end of the street. She came out and sighed in relief. Her mind had gone completely numb but as she stepped out of the alley she became painfully aware of the situation. Panic started to rise inside her. She wanted to curl up in the middle of the street as her breathing accelerated. Somehow she still wasn’t getting enough air. Her lungs hurt, the world started spinning around her. The wound in her arm was burning, she felt blood running down her arm. All her senses were blinded by the pain and the stress, she couldn’t think straight. Behind her she heard something crack. A leaf, a branch maybe or just a rat passing by. But that was enough to send her running as fast as she could. Her instinct was the only thing guiding her at this point. She needed to get help, to find people she could trust. She needed to go somewhere safe.

---

All the lights were out inside the house. They probably hadn’t gone home yet. The case could have turned more complicated than anticipated. But she didn’t feel like waiting for them in the street with blood trickling down her arm. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, her throat was sore from the cold autumn breeze and her wound wasn’t getting any better. She climbed the few steps in front of the door, her right hand in front of her in case she tripped. As she got to  the door, she kneeled and retrieved her hooks from the sock where she always kept them. Her dad had always told her this skill would come in handy. At the time she didn’t believe him but still let her teach her. It was a fun father-daughter activity after all. But right now, with the pain she was in, she truly blessed him for having weird hobbies.

In three clicks she unlocked the door and stepped inside without worrying about the noise she made. Her head was heavy and relief flooded her as soon as she closed the door behind her. It didn’t matter that her day had ended up worse than the day before. It didn’t matter that this seemed unconceivable yesterday. The fight, Dufour, the chase, all of it was behind her now. She was safe. As she stepped deeper into the house the walls started spinning. The masks on the wall looked like they were mocking her. She felt the urge to dismiss them with the back of her hand. A sharp pain shot through her arm as she lifted it. She cried out and didn’t notice Lockwood coming down the stairs.

“y/n? What are you doing?”

She hadn’t heard him coming and jumped in surprise, prompting another sharp pain in her left arm.

“y/n? What’s wrong? Wait how did you get in?”

At that she smiled faintly. But her head was spinning too much. Her knees buckled. She saw movement in front of her as the floor got closer before she collapsed in the hall.

[ohtobeleah]

Puzzle Pieces //

Chapter Two: “Fire & Grace” (Hawkeye)

Summary: As Jake is plagued with nightmares of what he thinks will happen when the love of his life wakes up—it’s the total opposite that takes him by surprise.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x Reader (Hawk) Angst. mentions of F-18 crash & injuries sustained from said accident. Hospitalisation. Marriage crisis?

Word Count: 3.1k

Author Note: Ya’ll can thank me for the small about of reprieve you get with this one. Before anyone asks, I wrote the Chaos update before the Hawk update—

Season One of Chaos | Season Two of To Have & To Hold | Season Two Puzzle Pieces |

‘Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favour fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate. To know that for destruction ice Is also great. And would suffice.’ ~ Robert Frost 

“Hey.” It’s the familiar southern drawl of Robert Floyd that’s drawing Jake Seresin back from the ledge he was boarding on. “You doing alright in here?” It’s a straight yes or no question but the answer is nowhere near that simple. It’s four in the morning and Jake hasn’t slept so nice yesterday morning, he’s got six stitches near his temple and a fierce headache that throbs every few seconds. 

“Been better.” Is all the disheveled aviator says back as he grips your hand tight in his. Bradley had brought him a change of clothes, knowing Jake wasn’t leaving your side anytime soon. Never letting his eyes linger away from your face, still and void of any expression as you slept. The anastasia wearing off slowly from the hours upon hours you had been in surgery for. 

Jake sat right at your bedside too afraid to let you go for even a second because in that second you could be ripped away from him. 

“What are you doing here, it's like four in the morning?” He asked with a query in his tone, Jake swore time moved differently inside the Miramar Base Hospital, it was like a damn vortex. Time either stood still or it went by at the blink of an eye. There was no middle ground, no in between, and as he sat there waiting for you to come back to him he felt like time had stopped all together just to reveal in the pain that he felt in his chest. 

“Chaos had an episode—“ Bobs mulling under his breath but Jake catches it clear as day in the silence of the intensive care unit. “Brought Rooster in, thought I’d come sit with Javy.” He was only next door. He’d come out of surgery two hours before you. “Any updates on her leg?” 

“Doc said it’s just a waiting game to see if the surgery takes well, but there’s a chance she still might lose it if the tissue starts to die.” It’s at this point in the meek conversation where Jake looks up, from across the room it’s not hard to tell he’d been crying. Bob wishes he could do more for the family he was watching fall apart, the furnace inside him burning with rage. “If Javy wakes up will you tell him it’s not his fault, any of it.” Jake couldn’t will himself to leave your side. He was far too afraid to move. 

“I doubt he’ll be awake anytime soon but I’ll keep it logged away.” Bob pressed his lips together into a soft smile that disappeared far too quickly. Tapping the doorway three times before carrying on his way to the room just next door. 

He sat with Javy for the better half of the morning. Underestimating just how tired he really had been and for what felt like the millionth time over the past month, found the chair in the corner of the hospital room comfortable enough to curl up on and seek refuge in for a measly few hours rest. 

***~***~***~***~***~

“I know you can’t hear me.” Jake let his head rest against the mattress of the hospital bed you laid on. He’d gently placed your hand against his cheek, your palm resting heavily against the slight scruff covered cheek that faced the ceiling. “But I miss you gorgeous.” He choked back tired tears as he spoke into the void that was eating him alive. “Just need you to know that I'm here for you when you decide to come back to me alright?” 

“What if I don’t want you here?” Your voice was cold as ice as the hairs on the back of Jake's neck stood to attention. “Because of all the people on this earth I'd wanna see right now it’s the person who put me on the F-18.” 

“I know, I’m so sorry baby, you have to believe me.” Jake felt the fire in your gaze buring into him as he sat up, his shoulders slumped as his hair went any which way it wanted. “I didn’t know—“

“You didn’t know what Jake? That I was afraid?” You hissed, raising your voice just enough to make him tense at the thought of you being afraid. “Didn’t know I was terrified of flying and you still pressured me into it?” 

“I don’t blame you for hating me—“ Jake whispered as he held back tears, feeling you rip your hand away from his as he reached for you. “But baby please believe me when I say how sorry I am.” 

“YOU'RE SORRY?” It was the tone you used that sent Jake into the spiral of despair he’d been on the edge of since he watched you and Coyote go down. “I lost my leg because of you, I’ll lose my job, my career! Everything I achieved after I washed my hands of you and your bullshit just to be sucked back in for you to destroy me—“ It was harsh, but none of it wasn’t true. Jake knew it. “I lost everything when I trusted you, I’m glad I don’t remember falling in love with you again, it was clearly the worst mistake I ever made.” 

“Jake.” Another voice broke through the reprimanding you were giving him. More gruff, less strained. “Hangman.” There it was again. Pulling him out of the void as Jake shot up with a slight snore, leaving a pool of drool against the mattress he’d fallen asleep in. Still sitting next to your bedside. “You fell asleep.” Bradley frowned as he stepped back to allow his friend some space. “Thought I’d come down and check in, you alright man?” 

“Peachy—“ Jake groaned as he sat back, wiping the corner of his lips as he turned to look at you. You were still out. He liked this version of you a Lyell of a lot more than the version his nightmares had concocted. “Bob said Chaos has a setback?” 

“Yeah, she’ll be alright though, she’s just now starting to get her memory back in bits and pieces from the crash.” Bradley explained as he walked over to take a look at your chart. “Beck said it’s PTSD and you know how Chaos is when people tell her shit she doesn’t wanna hear.” Bradley mumbled and Jake smiled in response, chuckling for a second because well—Rooster wasn’t wrong. “Says here she’s stable, shouldn’t be too long till she’s back on deck.” 

“Think I’m afraid for the moment that happens if I’m being perfectly honest.” Jake let out a soft nervous laugh as he stood from the chair he’d been sitting in for far too long. “I’ve never been more afraid of losing someone, but I'm not ready man.” Jake just stood at the head of your bed watching as you slept, shaking his head to Will away the tears that just poured freely. 

“Ready for what?” Rooster asked as he did the same, knowing that the positions the two of them found themselves in were eerily similar yet so different at the same time. 

“To find out she knows how to forget me.” Jake's bottom lip quivered at the thought. “I'd rather hear how much she regrets me.” It was hard to admit, but if you asked him to give you up he would in a heartbeat if that meant you were happy. He’d still love you regardless if you were his wife or not. “And pray to God that she never met me, but I can’t hear her say she forgot how much I love her.” 

“Can you two please talk a little quieter?” You mumbled out as you groaned, moving slightly as you lulled your head the other way to stretch your neck. “M’tired.” Jake frowned, immediately turning to Rooster who just turned to him with a shrug before deciding that he didn’t need to be here for this. 

“That an order Commander?” Rooster smirked, knowing your answer would give him some indication of where your headspace was at. Noticing how the corner of your mouth turned in on itself for a split second. “If so I’ll make myself scarce—“

“If it needs to be.” Jake could have lunged at you, but he settled for something less abrasive and rushed around to your side, leaning in and over to place a kiss to your forehead—When you didn’t groan in disgust his heart exploded in his chest. “Hi—“

“How you feeling Mrs Seresin?” Troubled waters can appear calm on the surface, Jake was just waiting for the moment you realised you hated him. Jake was waiting for you to tell him to get the hell away from him, that you didn't want to see him, didn't want to talk, to listen to how sorry he was. 

“Feeling a little groggy from all the pain meds.” You couldn’t really talk properly, your mouth felt so dry. Jake could hear it in your voice as he reached out to hand you the little plastic cup on your bedside. “What have they got me on?” 

“An absolute concoction of pain relief my love but hydromorphone to name just one off the top of my head.” he would take this if everything came crashing down around him. Jake would take this slither of hope that you were still his best girl, his wife, if you remembered how much you loathed him. 

“Huh, no wonder I can't feel my legs.” You sighed, settling back down after having a small sip of water. Jake just smiled at you, tears streaming down his face as Bradley left the room, making sure to turn his head one final time to make sure Jake had at least managed to sit his ass down this time before passing out from the relief of hearing your voice again. “What happened to your forehead?” Reaching out for Jake's cheek he caught your hand his his, pulling it to his lips as he kissed your palm over and over. 

“You don't need to worry about me, pretty girl, I'm far better than alright now that you’re awake.” Jake had grace under fire, you had fire and grace. “I thought I'd lost you.” 

“That easy?” you chuckled softly, it quickly turned into a cough before Jake was sending you a worrying look. “I'm tougher than I look.” 

“The toughest girl I know.” Continuing to kiss your palm over and over again Jake smiled against you. “I will never forgive myself for putting you in this position my love, I just keep thinking if I could take your spot for a day that that would wash all of your problems away.” Jake would give anything to trade places with you, to take all your hurt and all your suffering and carry it on his shoulders. 

“If you were in my place Jake–” Jake didn't let you finish before he was cutting you off. 

“You’d see your fire and grace.” He whispered, leaning in as close as the chair beside your bed would allow him to without physically crawling in beside you. Tubes and wires and monitors surrounded you and he was so afraid that he’d bump something and accidentally send you into a parallel universe far far away from him. “What do you remember baby, I wanna know where that brave and beautiful head is at.” You remembered every single second but you just couldn't bring yourself to say it. In the silence that lingered when neither you nor Jake were speaking, amongst the sounds of your monitors and machines you could hear the sound of all the systems failing as Coyote shouted at you to eject. 

“Coyote? Is he alright–?” Even on your own deathbed you were worrying about others. Jake couldn't love you anymore if he tried to find room in his heart. 

“Doctors say that you saved his life, broke his ribs doing so but you saved his life baby.” Jake explained as he admired you, so broken yet so strong, he could see the light had faded in your eyes but you were still there. “For a while there the medics thought you had amnestic syndrome, you were calling yourself Lieutenant Commander when one of the medics Rach called you Commander and you couldn't remember me, well–us.” You didn't remember that, everything from the time you realised help had arrived to now was still a little blurry, but the accident itself? Every second, every agonising firy moment you could remember as clear as day. “And it's not the hydromorphone that's causing you to not feel your legs baby.” Jake sighed as he looked at you looking at him like you could take anything he was about to tell you. How you and Choas had managed to overcome such fucking adversity and still be the stronger  half of both Jake and Bradley they would never understand. “Doctor Beck thinks that your body shut down from the shock.” Jake had to take a moment to prepare himself for the response he'd get from letting you know you might lose your leg all together. “But if your right leg doesn't come good soon, he might suggest–” 

“Please don't say it.” you interrupted, knowing where Jake was going.” I can handle anything but that.” You were on the verge of tears. “Jake, honey–if I lose my leg I lose my entire career.”

“You almost lost your life and you're worried about your career?” 

“I wouldn't have almost lost my life if you and Coyote would have just backed the fuck off.” Ah. there it was, Jake had expected it to sound cruller and a lot more scathing, but it wasn't. It left your lips softer than he’d anticipated it, wrapped in bubble wrap as if to not wound if fragile estate. “The Navy won't even blink an eye to toss me aside like yesterday's baked goods, you know it, I know it, everyone knows it.” You weren't fighting, or arguing, in fact, you barely had your eyes open as you spoke just above a whisper, still collecting your thoughts and trying to silence the noise of Coyote screaming your name in your head. “Doesn't matter how hard I worked or how much I love what I do, I won't come back from this.” 

You were at war with yourself, Jake could see that as clear as day. You wanted to run before you could crawl and he’d seen a very similar issue in a certain pain in the ass a level above where he was right now. Standing, Jake pulled his dog tags up and over his head before he ever so gently placed them around your neck, Yours had been lost in the crash. 

“You are Commander Y/n Hawkeye Seresin.” He started with a proud chest. “You won’t always be her, hell, one day you might even be chief of the fucking Navy Y/n.” You couldn't help but to laugh for a moment as you thumbed at the two gold rings that Jake had strung around his tags. He had his ring tattooed early into your marriage but he took his physical ring everywhere in the world with him. When he’d had you bloodied and unconscious in his arms he had taken your ring off in case your hand started to swell. Keeping it safe until he found the right time to give it back to you.

“When I married you I promised you in sickness and in health and I meant that baby, I promised that to Ensign Hawkeye Seresin, and now I’m standing here, reminding Commander Seresin that she is and will always be my wife and my best fucking friend before she is ever some ranking official even though I am the most proud of you for everything you achieved after you left my sorry ass behind.” Jake leaned in to kiss your lips, you hummed against him as the oxygen tube slipped slightly. Pushing it back up into your nose as Jake pulled away to continue professing his love, his admiration for you because there was a moment there he thought he'd never get to do that again. “I loved you well before the Navy was ever involved and I will love you well after the Navy is done with us baby.” 

Through a painful sob you just couldn't hold back, you reached out to cup Jake's face as he cried with you, both trying hard to stop your bottom lips from quivering as you asked the one question that had already begun to haunt Jake's nightmares. 

“Why the fuck did you have to put me on that jet baby.” You cried through heartbreaking sobs as Jake let his forehead rest against yours in defeat, leaning over you with his hands on either side of your pillow. His tears falling against your cheek as he shut his eyes tight, mixing with your own. “Why Jake, this is so fucking fucked.” 

“I'm so sorry.” It didn't matter how many times he said it, but Jake Seresin would never ever forgive himself for the decision he made to push you into facing a fear that resided deep inside you since before he could remember. “I’m so sorry—“ He cried like a boy who’d lost his favourite toy, like his entire world had fallen apart, been turned upside down and on its head. “I’m never going to forgive myself, ever, I hope you know that—and I never expect you to forgive me either.” 

You had no idea what tomorrow would bring, or the day after that, or the day after that even. But what you knew for sure was that whatever came your way, Jake was going to be by your side every second. He loved you enough to own his mistakes and he loved you enough to understand that you may never be able to accept his internal apology. But he was here and he was raw and hurting just as much as you. 

“Just promise you won’t leave me.” It was all you could muster, a pleading whisper in hopes that your husband wouldn’t leave you. You knew the statistics—they didn’t sway in your favour. “Don’t leave me Jake, please.” 

Jake didn’t think his heart could break any more than it had been since he watched you fall from grace, but in the moment you begged him to stay he broke in two, completely. Splitting himself in half at the seam. 

“Darlin I’ll never leave you, you’re my fire and grace.”

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Read Bradley x Chaos POV Here

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Tags: 🏷️ @emma8895eb @shawnsblue @justanothermagicalsara @abaker74 @a-serene-place-to-be @blindedbythelightt @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @caitsymichelle13 @atarmychick007 @xoxaabs88xox @averyhotchner @mintellaine @onlyheretowastetime @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @avaleineandafryingpan @dracosluvbot-reblog @itsemohours @djs8891

c

[jacksonlywife]

Heyy! Can I request Hsr boys (Caelus, Jing Yuan and Welt if possible) reacting to an anxious!reader whos a performance monster? Normally, theyre quieter by nature. Wearing oversized sweaters and massive blanket scarves and dislike drawing attention to themselves (think cozy accademia)

They dont usually preform , but when they do, they will preform with ×100 charm. Full 180 from their more reserved, timider side. Confident, flirty and show-stopping they become, hypnotizing people with their preformances unintentionally.

The reason they preform is essencially a friendly contest between friends to see who can outperform the other, more of a playful pride/bragging rights thing then anything. (ie. whoever has the best preformance by vote doesnt have to worry about dinner) When your peers get competative, and step up, ones gotta rise to the ocassion. Due to that, it's kind of resulted in reader and their friends getting better and better, as everyone kept encouraging eachother (cheering, whistling, throwing money at eachother when one is preforming) to get better. (Also free food so ye)

(Feel free to decline if your not comfy, but if you do decide to do my request thank you!)

👁-👁 Anon

                               Unbelievable Show

(HSR Boys Reacting to an Anxious!Reader Who's a Performance Monster)

(GN!Reader)

Tw: Panic Attack Caelus:

The wind was sharp and cold tonight. You sat on your couch all cozied up with an oversized sweater and the longest pants in existence. A mug in your hand as you watched the local news. Today was the day you were going to face off Caelus in a performance competition. Caelus was your friend you met not too long ago in the Astral Express. He was rather expressionless and you were quite timid so the beginning was rough.

Though eventually you both warmed up to each other bit by bit. It felt like forever but it happened thankfully. As you sipped tea the door burst open almost making you spit the liquid out. It was Caelus.

“You ready to get beat?” He said with a small smug smile. 

“I’ll win..” You felt nervous. You weren’t one to enjoy others' attention. It made you feel uncomfortable. Caelus knew this as well but he wanted you to get out of your bubble and show off. Also, You can't let him beat you can you?

You then noticed his attire. He had the same clothes that he usually wore. Light gray t-shirt, black pants, and a long sleeved jacket.

“You can’t wear that to the performance..” You said pointing and mumbling.

Caelus put his hands on his hips and tilted his head with a neutral expression. 

“Why can’t I?” He said confused.

“It's a performance. You have to dress to appeal. Otherwise no one will cheer.”

Caelus did the so-called superman pose and pushed his shoulders up.

“I'm already attractive. The ladies love me.” The fact he said that with an expressionless face almost made you laugh.

“Okay let's get ready.” You say as you walk to your closet. You slipped out a seductive outfit that would catch the crowd's cheers. Your anxiety rose up but you knew this is how you'd win the contest between you and Caelus.

You put the outfit on and looked at yourself in the mirror. Taking deep breaths to get ready for what was going to happen. Caelus also changed into better attire. A suit and his hair slicked back as you headed to the theater building.

The crowd was bigger than you expected. 

Eyes everywhere.

 Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to calm yourself down. That failed as it turned into hyperventilation. Heavy pants came out your mouth as you clutched your chest trying to stop it till you felt warm hands on your face.

“Calm down.” Caelus said cupping your cheeks. “You're okay. Everythings fine.” He said soothingly. For someone so emotionless all the time this was comforting.

“T-thank you.” You say slowly calming down. 

“I'm up first. Take inspiration if you need it.” Caelus teased with a small smile making you roll your eyes playfully.

He walked on stage and people squealed at the handsome young man in front of them. The performance was repetitive. He showed off amazing fighting skills and powers he had wowed the crowd over a million times. You smiled at your friend being proud of him. Though now you felt the urge to beat him in this even more. After all, it's a free lunch if you win.

Caelus winked as he got off stage hearing shrieks of fangirling.

“Where'd you learn how to wink like that?” You ask, chuckling.

“Sampo.” He said bluntly.

“Of course.” It was your turn now and an anxiety feeling crept on you again but you paced your breath steady as you saw Caelus shoot you an encouraging smile which you returned.

You stepped on stage and for some reason. 

Your whole damn aura changed.

You danced for the crowd with no sense of nervousness whatsoever sending Caelus into a dumbfounded state. 

Your flirty smiles caught many people's attention.

 Your seductive manner made people watch closely. 

Your beautiful talent at footwork made people stop drinking and watch in awe.

Movements flowed with ease.

Your nervousness was now confidence as you striked poses in the dance you were doing. You catched a glimpse of Caelus’s eyes and he was sparkling. Showing he was deep into the dance as well. 

A final movement to end it off and the crowds cheered as loud as they could. 

“Hurray!” 

“Huzzah!”

“MARRY ME.” Oh dear.

A blush crept to your face from embarrassment as you bowed and quickly came off stage flustered.

“That was amazing. I've never seen anything like it..” Caelus said, his eyes drifting away.

You gave a grateful smile as Caelus’s head shot up all of a sudden.

“Don’t tell me you put that nervous act just to get consoled by me?” He teased with a neutral face.

“N-no! I was actually nervous..I don’t know what just happened.” You said, shaking your head furiously.

“Now I wonder who got more votes..” Caelus replied which you nodded to.

Votes came in and goodness. 

CAELUS: 467     Y/N: 980

You had won by a landslide! Caelus’s face drifted off as he looked depressed but you smiled triumphantly at that. Though you could catch a hint of a smile on his face.

“Guess that means you're paying for my dinner.” You smirked as he sighed heavily.

“I gotta tell you something.” Caelus said with a stern face making you flinch.

“Y-yes?” You replied worriedly.

“I'm broke.”

Jing Yuan:

It was a beautiful sunny day, the clouds swarming the sky like an ocean wave. Today you were going against the General of the Cloud Knights. Jing Yuan. You couldn't find him as you searched and searched. Fu Xuan told you he was in a room which she pointed at. You thanked her and opened the door just to be caught in a tricky situation.

The General and his Cloud knights were at a meeting which you accidentally walked in on making you embarrassed.

“Oh. S-sorry wrong timing.” You flushed as you turned on your foot to leave.

“Wait. Today's performance today, right?” The General spoke with a smirk.

“Yes..but you can cancel if you want. You seem busy..” You mumbled shyly as the knights stared at the person who interrupted.

“Nonsense! I'm not busy. I have so much free time.” Jing Yuan stood up smiling. A young disciple named Yanqing of Jing Yuan also stood up looking ready to protest.

“General! You said you were going to teach me the new sword technique that the older soldiers are learning. So you are busy!” He said frustrated. Though it was a little hard to take seriously since all you saw was a little child complaining to his dad. 

“Yanqing. That can be another day. I've told them that I'd do this performance for a while now.” Jing Yuan sighed, crossing his arms looking down at Yanqing.

Yanqing then pouted and was clearly not happy with this revelation but then an idea struck. 

“How about you come along as one of the audience members?” You said murmuring a bit shyly to announce this idea.

Jing Yuan clapped once and smiled. 

“That'd be nice. Wouldn't it be Yanqing? You can also see your General doing a performance.” Yanqing wanted to decline but it was clear he wanted to see his General in the works.

“Yes, General.” He mumbled trying to cover the excitement on his face.

“Excellent!” Jing Yuan said, clearly pleased. “Why don’t you go get dressed, hm? The performance will be in 2 hours.” You nodded and headed out to the dressing room.

You dressed into an outfit that you knew would grab the crowd's attention.

 It was stunning. 

Though a wave of anxiety swept over you as you knew there would be loads of people watching. 

Staring.

After all, the General of the cloud knights was going to be there, and now his disciple in the crowd.Who would miss that? 

Your hands dug into a table as you tried to ease the stress building up on you. Your body felt cold. You needed warmth. 

“I can't do this.” You mumbled looking at the ground.

“And why can't you?” A familiar voice spoke.

Jing Yuan stood there crossing his arms and looking at you as if you were a student who was caught cheating on an exam, making you flinch in surprise.

“Ah..I'll freeze up. I can’t.” You say biting your bottom lip.

Jing Yuan sighed and held one of your shoulders as gently as possible.

“Yes you can.” He said looking straight into your eyes. “You have to. How will that bubble break if you don't blow it?” He smirked knowing he sounded poetic. “Well they don’t call me Shakespeare 2.0 for nothing.”

You chuckled amused at his comfortment. “O-okay. I'll try.” You say smiling softly.

“Good.” He let go of your shoulder smirking.

“I'm out first.” He waves you off as he walks out.

“Goodluck!” You shout encouragingly, getting a chuckle out of him.

Yanqing was in the crowd, clearly excited to see his Generals performance as goodness. He had the right to be so excited.

Jing Yuan showed blade work and how he handled weapons with amazing ease. Tricks and how he could attack his enemies from any certain angle. Each slash he showed to the crowd was as if a bird was spreading its wings for its first time.

“Wows” and “woah’s” echoed from the crowd making you feel proud but more competitive inside.

Jing Yuan winked as he came off stage and people clapped. Yanqing stood up in awe and clapped the loudest.

“You're up next.” He says to you as he walks off.

You take a breath and walk onto the stage. Feeling eyes on you. Though as the music began you swayed. 

With no tension in your body?

Fluid movements of the dance as you did neat tricks making you look like some sort of goddess.

 A flirty smile to the audience making them blush.

 A twirl to get their attention. 

An air kiss for people to continue watching.

A glimpse of Jing Yuan's expression was seen. Eyes widened and mouth slightly agape.

Minutes pass of this motion.

You stop and take a breath of relief as crowds begin cheering. Roses fell onto the stage and money was flung making you blush out of being flustered from such treatment. Yanqing gave a thumbs up which you returned chuckling.

You got off stage and smile to yourself and accidentally bump into someone quite tall.

It was Jing Yuan.

“Amazing job you did out there. I couldn't stop watching.” He says truthfully.

“I'm glad.” You smile, grasping your hands together.

“Let's check the votes shall we?” Jing Yuan suggested with you obliged and looked up at the screen.

JING YUAN: 890 Y/N: 974

You won! You won! You clapped for yourself in happiness as Jing Yuan let out a soft chuckle clapping for you.

“Well played.” He said smiling. “Guess that means I owe you dinner?” He says sighing.

“Hell yeah it does.”

(If I misinterpreted your request please tell me. <3)

[lavendertales]

Love is the devil—Javier Peña x f!reader

Chapter 15 of the Unholy series

summary: at Steve’s birthday party (and the celebration following Escobar’s demise), things get a little emotional for you and Javier—as well as tense.

word count: 5.3k

WARNINGS: brief mentions of PTSD; alcohol, soft & gentle Javi, allusions to masturbation & sex.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @joel-millerr​  

series masterlist | AO3 

The blood spills all over your clothes, hands and feet, and fear courses through your veins. It freezes your body altogether, immobilizing your limbs as you watch the scene unfold for the millionth time. No matter what you do, you cannot stop the catastrophe from happening. You cannot stop the bloodshed, the pain, the horrific aftermath.

Even after you wake up, the sentiment remains deeply imbedded in your brain and bones alike, shaking you up completely.

You basically chug your coffee, in a lame attempt to rid yourself of the phantom sensation of Carrillo’s blood over you, but it doesn’t do much for you. It does warm up your extremities, though, so you take every little win you can.

The past three days have been buzzing with celebrations all over Colombia, as well as all over the world. The news that Pablo Escobar’s reign has come to an end took over the world, and you were undoubtedly eased as well. You heard about Trujillo and Steve’s heroic moment, how the two of them caught and executed Escobar on the spot, and you couldn’t have been prouder. Part of you does wonder how come Javier missed the once in a lifetime opportunity to be perceived as the third hero in this story, but you needn’t ask yourself too much why.

That time, you lost yourself. Although you would never have done it, your emotions ultimately prevailed, and you now sincerely regret it.

The raw truth is that your father was never there. You only saw him three or four times a year, and each time he gave you a quick hug before heading out again, leaving you in a state of confusion. You were alone when you were born, and you remain so today.

And it wasn’t fair to yourself, after all, to distort the image of a paternal figure to the point of pushing away the most influential and constant presence in your life. In the end, Javier was the one perpetual element you could always count on no matter what.

So when you return to the office, one sunny morning, you’re greeted by all your colleagues, equally enthused—perhaps for several reasons, not just your appearance.

“Are you back? Please tell me you’re back,” Sofia nearly begs, holding your hands into hers.

“I’ll be back on Monday. Although I’m not sure for what, now that Escobar is gone.”

“Well, the Cali cartel is gaining terrain and power, so that’s a whole other thing now. And—“

Sofia pauses, catching your attention. “What?” you ask.

“Oh. They—didn’t tell you.”

“Who’s ‘they’? And tell me what?”

“Okay. Uh… Javi was assigned as the lead for the Cali operation, and… he recommended Steve, me and you for the mission.”

The news surprises you in a way you wouldn’t have expected it, and you make no attempt at concealing that.

“He wanted Trujillo too, but he actually resigned yesterday, so,” Sofia goes on.

“Huh. So… the four of us are going to Cali?”

“We’re going to Cali.”

She hugs you briefly, missing out on the confused expression on your face as you scan the room. In this moment, as your anger has finally vanished completely, you seek Javier. Your eyes seek him out relentlessly, yet he seems nowhere to be found.

The next person to greet you is Steve. He also draws you closer for a hug that you happily reciprocate.

“How have you been?” he asks immediately.

“Better,” you say, and you believe yourself, finally feeling your words to be true. “Really better.”

“I’m glad to hear it. It’s been a rough couple of months for you, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Listen, since I got you here… Connie and I were talking and we wanna do a little celebration at our place tonight. She may have insisted because of my birthday too, but… yeah, you know how it is. Happy wife, happy life.”

“It’s your birthday?”

“Yeah, it’s this weekend.”

You hug him again, truly happy to feel like you have made at least a couple of friends throughout your time in Colombia. “I’ll be there,” you tell him with a smile on your face.

“I should probably warn you, Javi’s coming, too.”

You hold your breath, and it’s probably visible on your face, but it is way past playing pretend with Steve.

“That’s okay,” you concede. “I figured he would.”

“You sure it’s okay?”

“Yes. Worst comes to worst, I’ll sit in a corner with Sofia and Connie.”

“You’re still not on speaking terms, I take it.”

“About that, uh… is he around? I haven’t seen him.”

Steve’s eyebrows lift in surprise as he looks around. “He was here like two hours ago. But then again, he stayed throughout the night, so he might’ve left to sleep.”

Your brows crease in confusion, yet you do not ask for more. You can only speculate the reason behind Javier’s habit of pulling all-nighters again. Was he avoiding you? Probably not on purpose, but it certainly did create quite a beneficial side effect.

You decide not to overthink anything. For now, you try to take one thing at a time.

“There’ll be alcohol, by the way,” Steve informs you like he had just read your mind.

Your face lightens up and you even sport a dashing smile across your face. “Perfect,” you joke.

But not really.

Because you will need booze if you have to spend the entire celebration evening with your coworkers and Javier lurking about.

The thing about your family is… you’ve never really had one.

Your grandmother, may she rest in peace, was the one who took care of you, cooked for you, helped you with homework and everything else in between. She was both a mother and a father to you, so when she passed away, you were heartbroken, to say the least. That’s when you decided to do something useful with your life, to fight like she fought for you. So you began your training and later joined the DEA office in New York.

You didn’t know your mother. She left you and your father when you were born, and you never heard from her again. You tried to track her down over the years though, and eventually managed to get some information about her, but you never spoke to her. She felt too far out of reach, too much of a stranger to begin having a relationship now. When you heard she passed away, it wasn’t that traumatic, though it carried no shortness of pain and guilt. At least for a little while.

And your father… well. Now that you have the full picture, you see your childhood in the clearest picture possible. He tried, when you were still a toddler, to be there and do everything, but he always struggled with money. Your grandmother managed to put food on the table thanks to her rather generous pension, but your father could not stand the idea of being the man of the house and having his own mother still provide for him and his child. So he went traveling for a few weeks, only to return a completely changed man. He was in a better mood, seemed healthier and happier, and proudly announced that he found a job as a traveling salesman. You remember the moment he had cupped your cheeks and told you, with happy tears in his eyes, that neither of you will have to struggle again. He told you that you will have everything you need, and that he will take care of it.

From thereon after, you only saw him three, four times a year, maybe five if you were lucky.

So you were never close with him either. The only family you ever know, your grandmother, passed away peacefully after you graduated from college. The timing had been perfect, come to think of it: you had been trying to figure out what to do afterwards, and when you bid your goodbye to her, it hit you. You knew what you had to do.

You’ve thought about your life from every possible angle for the past few weeks, every single day, without fail. The anger you once felt has evaporated, much like a boulder has been lifted from your shoulders, no longer forcing you to carry such a heavy burden. There was only understanding and regret to be felt.

And a certain type of yearning that almost felt debilitating in its complexity.

You both dreaded and longed to see Javier tonight. More so because you wanted to make things right, express your understanding of his choice, and, most importantly, let him know that you would’ve followed the same course of action.

It wasn’t even about duty per se. It was about doing the right thing. And Javier did the right thing.

So you take a deep breath now as you finish applying your makeup and give your outfit one last look in the mirror in an effort to calm your worries and clear your mind. There is no denying your nervousness.

You start to create a mental picture of Javier, trying to recall every detail of him because it feels like eternity has passed since you last saw him. You can still picture his full lips, moustache, and light stubble, which tickle just right when he is tucked in between your legs. You can also picture his brown, gentle eyes that get dark with lust, his brown hair that is so lovely to pull, and his aquiline nose.

And your craving feels insatiable at this very moment.

It is no simple carnal desire. It stretches far beyond that; it’s a desire to hold close, to have and appreciate the one constant you’ve had throughout your life. You want him to understand everything about you lately, and you want to apologize, to be held in his arms again.

You wonder what he’ll wear tonight. Those tightly fit jeans that make your eyes follow his silhouette around? Paired with his trademark leather jacket, perhaps? Chances are yes, but regardless of what he’ll be wearing, you’ll be eyeing him up and down still. Waiting, wondering, craving.

You carefully place the bottle of wine in the gift bag, grab your purse and hit the road, taking a cab. You reason that since there will be drinking during the party, you will undoubtedly require a ride home.

There’s more people on the street like never before, and you know well the reason why. You’ve never seen people in town be happier. All they’ve done was be subjugated and barely allowed to mourn their loved ones, and naturally, now that Escobar’s reign of terror was over, people felt a little more confident walking on the streets after dark. There was a new threat, namely the Cali cartel that was rapidly rising to power, but for now, the people could be allowed to celebrate.

“Aquí estamos, señora.”

You struggle to ignore the fact that the driver addressed you as “ma’am” as you pay the driver and proceed to Connie and Steve’s apartment. You recall your encounter with Javier the last time you were there, as well as the unexpectedly pleasurable events that ensued.

When you knock on the door, you hear the music booming from beyond it, and the indistinct chit-chatter of those already present. You’ve made it an hour and a half later than the agreed upon hour, but it seems you arrived right on time. When Steve opens and welcomes you in, you already see Connie and Sofia giggling next to the couch, their cheeks crimson-flushed; Trujillo is there as well, immersed into a conversation with one of the FBI guys, Hugo, and finally—

“Hi,” Javier greets you, barely able to hold your glare.

“Hi,” you reply.

Unbeknownst to you, Connie makes a shocked face somewhere in the back, immediately joining Steve.

“Whoa!” he exclaims, examining the bottle of wine you brought. “This is an expensive brand.”

“Well, I got the money for it.”

“Did you rob a bank or—?”

You chuckle. “We have the same job.”

“Yeah, but nobody joins the DEA for the financial benefits.”

“I don’t really go out or buy things, so I thought you should have something nice.”

“Very much appreciated.”

He gives you another hug before expressing pain as Connie snatches his arm and turns him in her direction.

“Are you insane?!” she whispers maddened.

You have enough decency to pretend like you don’t hear them, even though you already know the reason for all the hush-hush business.

“Ow!” Steve whispers back. “What?”

“You invited both of them tonight?! There’s gonna be a bloodbath in here!”

“I told her Javi’s gonna be here, she said it’s fine. They’re grownups, they can handle it.”

“Yeah, but—“

“I double checked with her, it’s fine!”

“Uh, excuse me,” you smile at them, “not to burst your little bubble, you’re doing great at hiding in it, but I’m fine. We’re here to celebrate Steve’s birthday and the fact that he and Trujillo ended Escobar, so that’s what we will do.”

Connie squeezes your hand, smiling at you just as Sofia joins your side and clings to your arm.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Connie offers.

When you make eye contact with Javier, on complete mishap, you quiver.

“Please,” you tell her, and both the girls giggle.

That’s exactly what you do: you hold your wine in one hand while, ostensibly, holding Sofia close to you in the other. Her flushed cheeks and the warmth that emanates from her and onto you are both indicators that she is already tipsy.

“Are you okay?” you ask her, somewhat amused.

“We finally get to relax a bit,” she exhales. “I am ready to kick back, drink and have fun.”

You suddenly recall the last time you went out with Sofia and she said the same expression, more or less, and you stifle your giggle.

“Just mind which palate cleanser you pick tonight,” you seemingly warn. “There’s four guys here tonight, and one of them is spoken for.”

Connie raises her brows, exchanging a surprised look with Sofia. They both stare at your afterwards. “What about Javi?” Sofia asks.

“What about him?”

“Oh, please! You’ve been here for two minutes and he cannot stop staring at you!” Connie practically laughs. “And you’re sneaking glances at him, too! Would you just quit this nonsense and talk it out? I know it’s been rough between you two, but I think—“

“Speaking of which, whatever happened with you and Javi? I never found out,” Sofia says with an adorable pout grazing her lips. “It’s unfair.”

You hesitate for a brief moment, unsure if you should go around spreading such a personal affair to people, but you’ve grown close to Sofia. You know you can trust her. Besides, what does it matter now? The deed is consumed.

And the worst is over.

“As it turns out, my dad was working for Escobar and, during one of the earlier missions, three years ago, Javier killed him. He was following Carrillo’s orders, and my dad was… ruthless. He had no choice. And he did the right thing.”

Sofia nods along your story, taking the occasional sip from her wine, while Connie reaches around your shoulders to hug you.

“That’s—a lot,” Sofia concludes. “I’m so sorry to hear that, I—“

“It’s fine. Really. I was never close with either him or my mom, so. No harm, no foul. Definitely no real loss.”

Both of them hug you, and Javier catches the scene unfold from across the room. The moment tugs at his heart, making him feel like someone’s dragging it through gravel.  He respects your personal space and he does his absolute best to keep his distance from you, and that is no easy task.

You’re… fuck. You’re as gorgeous as ever. The makeup, the way those jeans embrace your legs and your ass, the way you’re stealing the occasional glance down his way… fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s on the verge of a breakdown, and the fact that you are essentially forbidden fruit makes it all the more enticing.

But he meant it. He won’t go near you, not unless you want him to.

By the looks of it, you might never want to. You’re mentally throwing daggers at him just with your eyes. Who knows what will happen if you’ll truly be in his vicinity?

“So you’re really okay being here tonight?” Sofia checks with you.

“I’m fine. And even if I weren’t, thank goodness for alcohol.”

“Yeah, that’s what you need right now, alcohol.”

You frown at the sarcastic remark. “What do you mean?”

“Tension is thick as hell. Simmer down with the alcohol, babe.”

You turn to Connie instead, but you find her nodding along.

“There’s no tension, I said I’m fine.”

“I don’t think that’s the kind of tension she meant,” Connie clarifies.

You take a deep breath, the air nearly choking you instead. You reckon they are both right. You feel it in the depths your bones; each time you catch a glimpse of Javier on the other side of the room, it stirs something inside of you that is absolutely unhinged and needy.

However, tonight is not the time to share with Javier all of your most personal, inner thoughts and feelings. Tonight is about Steve and his significant professional achievement, which you will celebrate with your coworkers and friends. Rest is not urgent.

You move around, talking to everyone; Steve, Sofia, Connie, Trujillo, even Hugo and one of Connie’s friends from work, Maria. Two hours, four glasses of wine, two of whiskey and two shots of tequila later, you are drunk enough to let your intrusive thoughts win.

You were right. Keeping your eyes off Javier was impossible, even more so when he’s wearing exactly what you had predicted, and seemingly got a haircut, too. Fuck. You had to remember, with each step you take, that you are not in the right state of mind for a confrontation, or even a sincere conversation. All you want right now is to be alone with him, but this is not the time or place for it.

You have to keep it together.

You finish laughing at one of Trujillo’s jokes and head to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. You need some clearance of mind. You’re already drunker than you would’ve thought.

A gasp escapes past your lips when you bump into Javier’s chest, some water spilling on the floor. You stare wide-eyed at him, holding your breath. He seems to be doing the same, and it’s baffling you.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

“Here.”

He hands you a tissue to clean the dribbling water on your jaw, but when you fail to take it, he dabs it gently on your skin, eyes focused on the task at hand and thus failing to notice your own, searching his in return.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I should—go.”

You catch his wrist, and you manage to see the bewildered expression on his face. He clearly hadn’t expected it, but he’s not pulling away. He doesn’t ask you anything. He simply watches you, utterly enthralled and disarmed, curious as to what your next move is.

You don’t say anything either. You stare at each other for what feels like the longest time, the only thing you are capable of hearing are his irregular breaths, as well as your own. The music’s vibration reverberates through you still, the alcohol swimming carelessly through your veins as your inhibitions drop drastically. Each glance you steal at Javier makes your stomach churn even more, and you could not possibly hate yourself more for craving him more than you do right at this very moment.

He looks so damn fine it’s nearly painful. Especially with that worried look on his face, those big, brown eyes gone soft at the simple sight of you, it’s—it’s too much. It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt in weeks, but ironically, the most tense you’ve felt in who knows how long.

You need some relief. Badly.

Tonight, of all nights, you know that falling apart on your own hand won’t be enough. Your fingers desperately trying to recreate Javier’s grip and subsequent touch has proven to not be enough in the past, and certainly not the same. While you’ve barely addressed him since you got here nearly four hours ago and he hasn’t either, the tension has grown to be painfully thick.

With the right stimulus, Javier could be easily persuaded. You just have to push the right button.

You take his hand into his, and Javier holds his breath, unable to think anymore. That simple gesture makes him crumble on the spot. What’s more worrisome is the fact that he would follow you blindly anywhere, and he’s known this ever since college.

It takes him a while to realize you’re both in what’s probably the guest bedroom in Connie and Steve’s apartment. You shut the door behind you, giving him a glare that’s longing, and borderline aching. Javier licks his lower lip, still curious as to what your next move is, even though he can clearly see that you’ve been drinking.

Before he gets in a word edgewise, you blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

Javier looks bewildered at you, waiting for something more. He’s painfully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand and it doesn’t make things any easier.

“For what?” he asks, truly confused.

“Last time we spoke, I—I said something I shouldn’t have. I hurt you, I didn’t—“

You finally feel how drunk you truly are, and that’s probably why you’re so emotional right now, tears stinging your eyes, but you don’t care. This is long overdue, and you both need this. You both deserve it.

“I didn’t wanna hurt you,” you say. “I mean I did, but… I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t be. I deserved it.”

“No. I wasn’t gonna do this now, or here… but I can’t… I can’t not do it. I can’t stay away from you. I lashed out, I overreacted, I know, I—“

Javier lets go of your hand only to grab your shoulders, so gently you could cry on the spot. “You reacted the way anyone would.”

You frantically shake your head as you look at him with the same desperation in your eyes and hunger for understanding and forgiveness for all of your transgressions.

“No, you don’t get it,” you try not to slur your words. “I didn’t even know him. It was some… sick, twisted illusion, but… he wasn’t there. Neither was my mom. They were never there. The only constant that I’ve ever known was my grandma… and you.”

He coos your name, in the same soft manner, and it doesn’t help you one bit. If anything, it incites you even further, creating a more chaotic concoction of chemicals and emotions inside of you.

“You’re the only one who got me,” you go on. “Ever. You’re the only who—you’re the only thing I want. The only one. And I cannot, for the life of me, stay away from you. It’s—worrying. Worrisome? Worry?”

Javier grins a little, unable to hide his admiration for how cute you look after a few drinks.

“We do have a tendency to revolve around each other,” he seemingly agrees.

“Well obviously! I mean… just look at me!”

The look in his eyes is something along the lines of I am unable to look away from you, but you are too drunk to pick up on that.

“I obviously got both mommy and daddy issues, and the other issue is that I am hopelessly and annoyingly in love with you!”

With the music still blasting in the background, Javier could’ve easily blamed that for mishearing you. His heart is fluttering in his chest, threatening to burst out at any given moment.

He coos your name again, a sudden craving emerging in his voice’s undertone, and that you pick up on.

“Javier,” you coo in return. “I do, you know? I do love you.”

“Don’t—don’t do this to me.”

“What?”

You notice he’s keeping his eyes closed, attempting to hide whatever inner battle is going on inside of him, yet you only approach him further, if even possible. You need to have him as close as possible after all of that time apart.

“Don’t do this to me now, here,” he repeats. “I can’t—don’t tempt me.”

Javier’s so close now you can count of all his eyelashes, his warm breath tickling your face—and your senses alike.

“I want you,” you say, and it’s consuming you just to say the words. “Please? Please.”

The more he says your name, the more he calls out to you, making it impossible for you to resist. It’s temptation at its finest, wrapped in the most alluring package you have ever laid your eyes upon.

Which is why you don’t think twice when your hand traces on his chest, tantalizingly slow for someone who’s not so coordinated right now, and reaches at the back of his head to pull him in, just as your lips meet with his. It feels like it’s been far too long since you’ve had a proper taste of him, and you crumble right then and there. You fall apart in his mouth as the kiss deepens, with Javier’s body pressed against the door. Both your brains are scrambled with desire, fogged up and unable to think straight.

Heat runs through your body, blood boiling in your veins when Javier’s hands grab your hips and pull you in closer, gluing your body to his. Your arms are both around his neck, your mouth slowly devouring his, and vice versa. You decide to get a bit bolder as you separate to draw in more air into your lungs, and start unbuttoning his shirt. Your vision’s blurry but your fingers know your way around his body better than anything. You’re surprised when his fingers catch yours and put a stop to your torture.

“We shouldn’t,” he tells you, although there is a huge knot in his throat that nearly makes him choke.

“Javier, please. I miss you, I miss… feeling you.”

God, he cannot resist you. He simply can’t. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you, but the moment isn’t what he’d prefer for your reunion.

He takes your hands into his, holding them close to his chest, now teasingly exposed to you, and looks at you like he’s having the toughest battle inside of his head.

“Don’t take this to mean I don’t want to,” he tells you, and he genuinely sounds like he’s falling apart. “Believe me, I—I do. I’d slide inside you and make you cum as many times as I possibly can. I’d fuck you until tomorrow, till you can’t walk properly and you’re dripping with me.”

Breathless, your eyes drop to his neck, thinking how much you’d love to hear him moan under the weight of your fiery kisses.

“You—can,” you tell him.

“You’re upset and you’re drunk. It’s not right.”

You frown like a child being denied its favorite treat. You hate how reasonable he is, and how sweet he’s being.

“Do you know that being sweet about it makes it worse?”

“How?”

“Because now I want you more.”

Javier chuckles, admitting that deciding to stay apart from you is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, particularly when you’re asking him so nicely, your voice calling him out like a siren ready to devour her prey. You’re not having the best night, so his choice is the proper thing to do. Succumbing to your sweetly enunciated craving would have been a treat if you had been sober and, let’s face it, still a little angry with him. Given how upset and frustrated he’s been, he would not have hesitated to fuck you right then and there, but seeing how difficult it is for you to stand up straight tells him that he is undoubtedly making the correct decision.

“How about I take you home? Is that okay?” he checks.

You nod and he takes your hand in his, guiding you out of the bedroom, searching for your jacket. You both bid goodbye to everyone present, and Javier figures there will be plenty of talk about that, but he doesn’t care. He cares about you, and getting you home safe is his number one priority.

“Oh, oh,” you mumble, threatening to buckle over. You close your eyes in order to embrace the fall, but then, all you feel is warmth and softness.

You look up and see Javier’s face close again, realizing moments later you’re in his arms and he’s placing you carefully in the backseat of his Jeep.

“You good?” he asks.

You nod, but before he lets you stretch in the backseat, you pull him by the jacket’s collar and press your lips on his again. It’s softer this time, a sign of gratitude that Javier fully embraces this time.

The ride back to your place is smooth and silent, though you did fall asleep several times. You only wake up when you’re in Javier’s arms again, swiftly realizing he’s carrying you on the stairs to the apartment.

“Where are your keys?” he asks.

You smile mischievously, licking your lips and staring at him in the most adorable way he’s ever seen in anyone.

“Guess you’ll have to frisk me to find out,” you giggle.

Javier rolls his eyes, bemused. “Don’t think I won’t do it.”

“I’m hoping you will. It’s the most action I got in a while.”

Javier puts you down closer to the wall to ensure you got some balance in you. He checks your jacket first, mind preoccupied.

“Honestly, me too,” he says out of the blue.

It takes you a good minute to understand what he’s telling you, and when realization hits you, it carries no shortage of surprise.

“Wait, seriously?” you ask.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you’re—you. You’re great in bed, you have your lady friends…”

Your eyes meet his again, and his seem filled with regret. Suddenly, your stomach drops, and you wish you hadn’t asked that because you feel a wave of jealousy washing over you.

“Did you—?” you start, and halfway through acknowledge the fact that you cannot finish the question.

“No,” he quips sharply. “I thought it’s what I needed, something meaningless and fast, but it wasn’t.”

He recalls the exact moment when he came home to Gabriella, her smile and excitement visible in her body language. He also recalls how he excused himself to her, explained the situation, and offered to drive her back home. He recalls the apology he issued for making her drive across town for nothing, and her advice to him as she bid him goodbye for good. 

Fight for her.

“What do you need then?”

He feels starved as he looks at you, eyes darkened by that lust that always drove you both past the edges of sanity and professionalism.

“Didn’t I make it clear back at the party?” he grazes his thumb over your bottom lip, and for the briefest of seconds, you feel a different kind of drunk. “Tú. Sólo tú, cariño.”

Only you, honey.

“I guess this means taking a raincheck on that ‘fucking you till tomorrow’ business?”

It’s a silly question, laced with a dangerous playfulness, but if there’s anyone who loves that, it’s Javier.

His fingers graze your cheek delicately, turning you to look at him, and God it hurts to keep your legs together from how overstimulated you feel.

“Whatever you need, you can have it,” he whispers. “Anything, everything. But sober.”

You kiss him again, and again, and until you run out of breath, until the only scent invading your nostrils is his cologne and him, musky and earthy and home-like.

previous | next 

[wooahaes]

sweet night [pt.10]

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x fem!reader

word count: ~7.2k

warnings: emotional talks. seungkwan sighting (for the final time in this fic, i’m p sure). some angst + mentions of past infidelity. some nice brother-sister moments alongside some nice mingyu-wonwoo friendship moments. some fluff in the form of a happy ending in this part <3 admittedly minimal proofreading shh i got rly excited and wanted to post this

daisy’s notes: every time i put kibum in this fic im doing it for me /hj

summary: As the adopted daughter of the Kim family and current heir to the   company, you have it all. An arranged marriage with your soon-to-be fiance who you truly fell in love with, respect from your workers for being good at your job, a good relationship with both your family and your good friends… What more could you want out of life? And yet all it takes is one night for everything to fall down, and one man to help pick up the pieces.  

< previous part || masterlist || next part >

“What do you mean you’re moving out?”

Mingyu stood in the doorway to your bedroom the next evening, watching as you folded clothes and carefully put them away. You had a few work outfits left on hangers to keep them from being wrinkled, but your casual things you didn’t care as much about. Chan was supposed to be on his way with his dad’s car, and Kibum was waiting for you. Guilt swelled in your stomach as you refused to look at Mingyu, the fear that a single glance would give you away too easily. That if Mingyu looked in your eyes, he’d see that you were falling for him--and he would feel guilty, too. Of that you were sure. Despite the way you saw him look at you, Mingyu simply couldn’t love you. Not the way you were starting to love him. He was your best friend and savior at times: he was not in love with you. You wouldn’t let that be true. And you wouldn’t let Mingyu marry someone who loved him when he didn’t reciprocate: that wouldn’t be fair for him.

“We shouldn’t do this,” you zipped up your bag, shouldering it. You hesitated for a moment, before putting on a more blank expression. The more detached you were to all of this, the better. All you needed was a few days outside of his home to clear your head. Maybe it’s because you’ve been living with him that you’re starting to fall for him... although when you finally see him, you could tell what he’s thinking. The concern in his eyes, the way his brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line to keep himself from speaking out again: he was concerned you were running away again. And maybe you were. “Our companies are working fine,” you said. “We don’t need to complicate things by pretending to date or get married. I’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

“Can we talk about this?”

A deep breath. And you plastered on that same smile, the one you always used when forced into difficult conversations. Mingyu knew it was fake, too. “You can go on dates again, Mingyu. You don’t have to wait. I’ll tell my parents it’s my fault, and then I’ll find someone else. Maybe Dongmin--”

“I don’t want you to date Dongmin,” Mingyu stepped in front of you. “I don’t want you to date anyone while you’re still hurting. If you aren’t ready for marriage, I’ll take care of it. But if I’m becoming too much, then I’ll stop with the affection. You can cut things off soon, if you want.” He reached up to your face, hesitating for a moment before brushing a strand of hair back. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your happiness just to make your family happy. We do that enough.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest. Did you? All your life all you wanted was to make your family proud of you. The classes they had you take, the tasks you were given, the job you now have... All of it was because you wanted them to be proud. Marrying Seungkwan would have made them happy, once upon a time. Marrying Mingyu would, too. The idea that you were being selfish burrowed into the back of your mind: you were running away again and making more problems.

“You’re already going to take over in Kibum’s place,” Mingyu’s hands fall to your shoulders, and then down your upper arms. “You shouldn’t have to do anything else. So please... Don’t date anyone else now. Don’t date me. Just don’t feel like you have to walk away.” Mingyu’s voice dropped to a whisper, “You can talk to me. I’ll understand.”

Three words rested at the tip of your tongue, and you swallowed them hard. “Mingyu...” You frowned, and gently removed his hands from your arms. “I’m okay.”

Anger sparked in his eyes as he took a step back, brows drawing tightly together. Then it dissipated, and he swallowed hard. He stood awkwardly for a moment, hands aching to hold you, and instead he let them fall to his sides in weak fists. “Can we be honest with each other?”

He knew. You said nothing at first, just watching him as he pushed back on whatever anger he felt toward you. He had to know, didn’t he? Were your eyes betraying you? Was your smile not perfect enough? Was he angry you couldn’t just be honest and tell him outright that you were falling for him and therefore couldn’t put him into a marriage like this? After the longest pause, you shook your head. “Can I please have some space?”

Something clicked. Mingyu took another small step back with a nod, careful to make sure he wasn’t blocking the doorway anymore. Mingyu understood: Mingyu respected you. “If that’s what you need,” he said, a tinge of strain in the words. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to break this off. If I did something wrong, I want to talk about it. It’s okay,” he said, his voice gentle. “If you—”

The chime of your phone was followed by a louder knock at the door. You shifted your bag, leaving without another word. But Mingyu’s stride was longer, and he made his way to the door and opened it. Chan looked up, a little startled as you could see his thumb hovering over the call button on your contact--and you realized he was standing there in a sweatshirt and pajama pants.

Right. You had called him a little last minute, and he had been telling the others he was going to take tonight (and this weekend) to rest. Guilt burrowed even deeper at inconveniencing him.

“Oh,” Chan said, a little wide-eyed as he looked at you. “I was...”

Mingyu said nothing, and turned to you. He walked over, holding out his hand before nodding to your bag.

You tightened your grasp around the strap. “I can carry it myself.”

“I know you can,” Mingyu said, voice gentle. “Can I...?”

You watched him a moment longer. If you said no, he’d back away. You knew that. Maybe that was why you let him do this one little thing for you. You lifted it from your shoulder, and Mingyu took it, hoisting it with ease. While you doubled back, Mingyu continued on to the car with Chan, already asking him where he wanted you to put your bag.

Chan stared at him. “You aren’t angry?”

With your bag securely placed in the back seat, Mingyu shut the door and turned to him. “Please take care of her,” he said, and then paused as realization struck. “Or... Are you taking her to Kibum?”

Chan’s face went red at the question. “I—I live with my parents,” he gestures back to his car, “This is my dad’s. I’m just taking her to her brother’s—”

With a nod, Mingyu glanced back to see if you’d come out yet. “Drive safely,” he said, and it was more of an order than a hope. He turned back to Chan, palm up, “Give me your phone.”

Without questioning it past a confused look, Chan handed it over. He watched as you stepped out of Mingyu’s home, careful with your work outfits, and he stepped away to help you put them into his car properly. Behind his back, Mingyu had typed out a message to an unknown number. When Chan returned, Mingyu pressed his phone into his hand, and Chan could see a message typed out: She’s safe.

“Send this to me when she’s safely inside his apartment,” Mingyu said. “That’s all I want to know.”

Chan looked down at his phone one more time before clicking it off, pocketing it. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll go safely, then.”

As Chan rounded the car, Mingyu turned to leave, only to stop next to you. “I’ll be here if you need me,” he promised. “Okay? We can talk when you’re ready.”

Even now, Mingyu was careful with you. You were so used to the headstrong Kim Mingyu, who sometimes argued over things when he was fired up enough. You almost thought you were going to get him, too, with that flash of frustration in his eyes earlier. Instead, he was quiet and understanding in a way that caught you off guard. He knew how complicated all of this had to be for you, how you needed to get away and figure things out. Maybe he knew that seeing Seungkwan again had messed with your head. After all, he’d seen you (and saved you) from the embarrassing moment of Seungkwan’s public rejection and proposal... He knew how deeply entwined your life was with his own. The despair you felt when it all came crashing down. He’d seen you heal, too.

Chan drove you to Kibum’s without much to say past generally double-checking directions. You’d called your brother at lunch when you decided you needed to get away from Mingyu and his home for a bit to think, and he’d said he’d make up the couch for you. You’d shot down the idea that he’d offer his bed to you—although Kibum said he wasn’t planning on giving it up to you. Whether it was joking or not, you couldn’t tell. Still, you like the couch and would be fine for a few days. The couch also gave you Commes Des and Garçon to cuddle with, moody as one of them could be. Chan had carried some of your things for you up to Kibum’s apartment (your work clothes, as you had insisted on carrying your own bag), and stuck around long enough to see the dogs.

Kibum opened his arms to you without a care that your secretary was technically right there to see. Without hesitating, you hugged him tight. Without letting go of you, he had offered to let Chan stay for a few minutes if he wanted to, or get some water before he left. But Chan had politely declined, only staying long enough to tell you that he was there if you needed him. You could hear the dogs’ nails excitedly tapping against the floor, and the sounds of Chan staying one extra second to pet them before the door finally clicked shut behind him.

You drew away from Kibum, making your way over to the couch before collapsing onto it. Garçon immediately leapt up, nuzzling you in a quieter plea for attention while Kibum (after taking one look at your face) left to get you water. He returned soon enough, setting the glass down on a coaster before gently pulling his dog back toward his own lap.

“So,” he started. “You’re in love with Mingyu.”

You hadn’t said it on the phone. All you asked for was a few days at his apartment to think before Mingyu officially had to propose to you. But Kibum knew you too well, and perhaps you were tired of fighting yourself at this point. With a sigh, you melted onto the back of the couch. “I’m falling in love with Mingyu.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know what to do.” You didn’t look at Kibum, instead keeping a hand on Garcon (who happily wagged his tail as he looked up at you). You shut your eyes, no longer staring up at the ceiling. “I told him we could break this off now, since I think it’s unfair for me to like him but him to not like me, and...”

“And?“ Kibum pressed. He leaned against the back of the couch, head resting against his hand. “What did Mingyu say?”

You pressed your lips together for a moment. “He doesn’t want me to date anyone else while I’m hurting.” You stopped, and you could feel Garcon lift his head to look up at you curiously. “He doesn’t want me to settle for whoever our parents want me to be with. He... wants me to take care of myself.”

Kibum nodded with a hum. “It sounds like he really cares about you.”

He does. That was what scared you so bad.

“Do you want to hear what I think?” When you nodded, Kibum shifted into a more comfortable position before speaking, “I think that you and Mingyu should be happy together.”

You opened your eyes, turning to Kibum, “Wait--”

“And I think that you’re more in love with him than you like to admit. You let him help you. How often do you let people in like that?”

“My workers help me,” you said immediately. “And--”

“That’s different. Remember when you had difficulty making friends as a kid because people would sometimes bully you?” Kibum frowned, “All because you’re adopted?” When you nodded, he continued, “You told me when you were little that you didn’t need anyone else. That you were happy because I was your brother. Of course, that was before we started bickering more, but I told you that you should still have friends.”

Of course Kibum would remember all of that. You pouted, hugging yourself tight. “And I do--”

“You do now,” he said. “But you were lonely growing up. Between private school and cram schools that our parents sent you to, and homework and tests...” Kibum sighed. “Neither of us really had that much time to ourselves. I was lucky I met Minho.”

You had perked up at that. Kibum, as close as he was with Minho, never really said those things so genuinely. He had his moments and you were sure of it, but out loud? To you? Usually every compliment was met with some sort of playful detractor (like Minho being good at sports, but also kind of a goofball sometimes), but not this time. He left the statement at that: he was lucky to have Minho.

“And I’m glad you have friends now,” Kibum said. “It’s good that you do... and that not all of them work for you.” He had smiled, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. “But even now, you seem lonely. You talk to people, sure, but when was the last time you really managed to open up to someone and let them in?”

... Seungkwan. You said nothing, not wanting to admit it. If you didn’t count Mingyu, then Seungkwan would have been the last person.

“I think,” he said. “You’ve been hurting. And I think that Mingyu is good for you because he lets you heal. I know you wanted a few days to think, but... I don’t think it’s fair you’re cutting Mingyu out of this conversation.”

“I’m not--” A pause. A deep breath, and you met Kibum’s eyes. “I’m not cutting him out. I can’t talk to him until I know exactly what I want to say. If I’m in love with him--”

“--And you are--”

“And I am,” you rolled your eyes. “I can’t just... say it like that. I have to say it right.”

Kibum rolled his eyes in response. “Always so prepared...” He sighed, standing up. He ruffled your hair as he walked away, calling over his shoulder to ask whether you’d eaten yet. The moment you said no, you were met with nagging from him as he started to look through the fridge for ingredients.

(You’d complain about it later, but Kibum would always say the same thing: he’s your big brother. It’s his job to nag you like that.)

“So she’s with Kibum?”

Wonwoo had shown up at Mingyu’s home about an hour after you left. All Mingyu had done was sent him a single text--that you needed space. And Wonwoo, despite not knowing you as well as Mingyu, did know that usually meant going to your family. He doubted you would so willingly go back to your parents (otherwise that was where you would have gone after Seungkwan’s proposal), so it clearly meant your brother instead. Mingyu merely nodded at first, continuing to chop ingredients for what must have been the dinner the two of you were going to have.

“She needs space,” Mingyu said. “I can’t stop her from needing that.”

“And you?”

Mingyu looked up, actions slowing to a stop. He was so clearly distraught, lips drawn tightly together, brows lifted, eyes wet... And yet Kim Mingyu, Wonwoo remembered, could be a bit of an idiot when it came to addressing his own feelings (especially when you were involved). “What about me?”

“You’re obviously upset,” Wonwoo hopped up from his chair, making his way over. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her that I want to talk when she’s ready to,” he said. “I can’t force her to talk to me now. That wouldn’t be right.”

“What about you?” Wonwoo pushed harder. “What do you want?”

“She--”

Wonwoo snapped, “That isn’t what I’m asking!” He huffed, “This entire time, you put her needs above your own! I know that’s supposed to be part of love, but what about you? What about your happiness? Is holding everything inside until you divorce or die really going to make you happy?”

Mingyu dropped the knife onto the cutting board, anger swelling within his stomach as he nearly bit back at him. He was happy enough being your best friend and that was all that mattered, wasn’t it? But it hit him a moment later: he was doing exactly what Wonwoo said. Every single step of the way, he felt as though he kept raising your feelings above his own. Not in the way lovers do, but as if his feelings came second when he knew you’d be upset to hear that. His feelings were important to you, after all: that was why you wanted to let him go, to set him free, because you valued him wholeheartedly. If only you knew that the only person he wanted was you.

Wonwoo let out a long sigh, leaning against the counters as he watched Mingyu resume his work. The two stood there in silence as Mingyu pushed the chopped ingredients into the pan, pulling out a bowl of leftover white rice. He continued working, falling into this peaceful state as he did, and all Wonwoo could do was sit and give him a few minutes to think.

“I used to think that I’d get over it,” Mingyu confessed at long last. “That once I saw the way she looked at me, I’d realize we’d only ever be friends.”

“And?”

“I really did,” Mingyu pushed the thought further. “That I’d break my own heart with the thought. But now she looks at me like a lover, ever since we went on those dates to pretend that we were just two people getting closer.”

Wonwoo said nothing. He merely watched the wistful way that Mingyu pushed around food in the pan, eyes half-lidded as he smiled to himself. He looked like he was in love. And he was.

“We just wanted to pretend we weren’t who we are,” Mingyu said. “Is it stupid to say that I think that only made us fall for each other more?”

“More?”

“I think... She’s been in love with me for longer than I like thinking,” Mingyu said. “But I can’t stop myself from thinking that she’s not in love with me, but my actions. In my dreams, she loves me for me. But when I look at her now, I think she’s struggling. She just spoke to Seungkwan, too.”

... You did? Wonwoo stared at Mingyu. “Wait--”

“I think it made things more complicated,” Mingyu said outright. “And I can’t stop myself from wondering if that’s why she needed to get away.”

Did you still love Seungkwan, even after all of this? Did... Seungkwan love you, too?

Wonwoo sighed as he watched Mingyu go to plate the food. “Put that away.”

Mingyu looked up. “Do you want something else? I was saving the chicken I bought for a bigger meal, but--”

“We’re going out,” Wonwoo turned, heading toward Mingyu’s room. “I’m borrowing a change of clothes. We’re going for a run.”

“But the food--”

Wonwoo turned around right as he approached Mingyu’s bedroom door. “Can wait. You need this to clear your head, or you’re just going to keep worrying about it. It’s your turn to take care of yourself.”

Mingyu watched Wonwoo disappear into his bedroom, and sighed as he began to put the food away for now. It was merely just fried rice (truthfully, Mingyu wanted to do more, but the stress of you leaving so suddenly sapped away at his energy), but he’d rather share it with Wonwoo when they returned than eat it alone now. He changed into something more lightweight, and followed Wonwoo out of his home.

Wonwoo knew him well. The two had ended up in the park, Wonwoo always staying just slightly ahead of Mingyu as they jogged through it. Something about the cool wind hitting Mingyu’s face felt refreshing, his thoughts slipping away as easy as the breeze did. For once, Mingyu didn’t think about you, or proposing, or Seungkwan, or anything else.

He just let himself go. And in the end, he returned home with a lighter spirit than he had before... and a far too smug Wonwoo who was glowing with pride in knowing him so well. 

You knew you were falling for Mingyu. And, unbeknownst to you, Mingyu had realized he fell for you harder than he had before.

Things were different. They were difficult, too. Even now, as you sat in Kibum’s apartment while he’s out grocery shopping, you reflected on your feelings again and again. The idea of marrying Mingyu was far more welcoming than any alternative: Mingyu, simply put, would make you happy. But it still felt wrong when you weren’t exactly sure what his feelings were. He looked at you the way Seungkwan used to, and maybe with a little extra love in every passing glance and action. When you thought about it, you realized something: it was the same way Mingyu always looked at you. You’d just thought that Mingyu loved you like a friend.

And he did, but maybe it was just more apparent how deep his feelings for you were.

Commes Des was curled up by your feet as you looked over papers at the dining table, mind always wandering right back to Mingyu. Kibum made his way inside, toting a few bags with him as he told you not to get up--he was fine, thanks. You rolled your eyes and reminded him that you said to just call you when he was back, and he merely mentioned he managed to get the last box of your favorite tea. You were happy to take him up on the offer for a mug since he was going to make one for himself. Soon enough, he’d sat down across from you, sugar between the two of you so that you could prepare it to your liking. You’d help him with making dinner soon--taking off the bulk of the work if you could be subtle about it, lest you have to deal with Kibum reminding you that you were his guest--after the two of you had tea.

“You’re always so particular about it,” he said as he watched you spoon sugar into the mug.

Mingyu never called you particular or weird or picky... He said it was specific, sure, but that didn’t hold the same disdain in it as Kibum’s eye roll and tone did.

“So... Have you thought about it anymore?”

You sighed. “I don’t know what I want to say to him.” You wished it was as easy as just saying I’m sorry, I left because I’m falling in love with you. But that opened up more questions, questions you couldn’t exactly prepare completely for.

“Have you considered just being honest?” Kibum said, leaning against the back of his chair. “I think it’d be the easiest way to have this conversation.”

“That’s still easier said than done.”

“Well... Do you still want to get married?”

The thought made you purse your lips together. “We don’t really have that much of a choice?”

“I’m here now,” he reminded you. “And I’ll fight for you.”

“You can only do so much, you know,” you took a sip of tea, savoring the flavor. “But... I don’t know--Would it be weird to ask him to take things slow?”

He shook his head. “You’re getting married. No one’s going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. And if they do, just point me in their direction and I’ll give them a piece of my mind.”

You didn’t need Kibum to fight all of your battles for you, though. Which... “Can I be honest?”

He gestured for you to go on.

“I don’t like you calling me particular about my tea,” you said. “I like it the way I like it. It’s fine if you don’t, but you don’t have to comment on it like that.”

Kibum’s eyes widened a little, but you could see him smile behind a sip of his own mug. “I never meant it as an insult,” he said a moment later, “but I understand. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I’ve always liked how you are, though,” he set his mug down. “You own your own energy and do the things that you like.”

You felt your face grow warm with embarrassment. Of course he complimented you right after you stood up for yourself (even if you were only doing so in a small way). “I learned it from you,” you shrugged. “I’m not good at it, but...”

“But nothing,” he said. “You’ve stood up to our parents before. I think you could stand to do it more, but I know you.” He stood up, collecting his empty mug alongside your own. “I’ll avoid calling you things like that from now on.” He reached out after pushing the mug into his other hand, ruffling your hair. “I’m your brother. It’s my job to tease you,” he stepped away, “but not in a way that hurts.”

“Kibum, it’s fine, I’m--”

“No, it’s different if you get hurt,” he said. “And I want you to tell me that. I’m your brother, I’m not a monster.”

It warmed your heart to hear him say those things. Sure, the two of you used to bicker a lot more as kids... but it really reminded you that you’d always have him in your corner if you needed him to be there. And if standing up for yourself and your own feelings started in calling him out, you knew you’d at least be safe in doing so.

Tuesday night, Mingyu found himself in a rather upscale place for dinner. He’d asked for a seat with a view, and all he could do was admire the skyline outside as he waited. Maybe he’d regret accepting the invitation, but at least he’d been given the chance to pick where they dined tonight. He always liked this place. He meant to bring you here sometime, actually: he wanted a picture of you against the view to keep close to his heart. The lights were low, too, to help build the romantic atmosphere... but it also meant there was an added sense of privacy to it all. That was why Mingyu picked this place over the other ones he knew. He’d slipped extra money to the staff to ensure that no one sat at either table closest to his, happy to pay more if they requested it.

Yet he had to wonder: were you eating well now? He knew you would be. Kibum would ensure that you were taken care of while you were likely ruminating on all of your thoughts. He knew how you could get caught up in your own head sometimes. That was why he was happy to make dinner for the two of you and gently pull you out of your work to eat. You would have done the same for him any night, after all.

The sound of footsteps pulled Mingyu out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Seungkwan as he slowly approached. He thanked the server for guiding him over, and then hesitated to come closer.

He looked... rough. Mingyu could feel his heart sinking in his chest. As much as he wanted to still be angry with Seungkwan for what he did to you, he didn’t deserve to look this sick. How much had he been struggling? He knew how Seungkwan struggled with his weight, people poking fun at his chubby cheeks and other factors of his appearance (and, hell, he’d heard you angrily rant about it before proclaiming that Seungkwan’s cute and you loved every single inch of him just the way it was). Mingyu was sure you had noticed it, too. You had told him after you saw him that if he wanted to talk to Seungkwan, then he should.  

And if he was going to propose to you soon, then he wanted to clear the air. Seungkwan was once his friend, too. He missed those days. He was sure the others did, too: Mingyu was the only one who could hold Seungkwan back at their casual get-togethers when he got fired up over something. Yet the Seungkwan that stood before him felt like a stranger, eyes so dull and hair seeming to have lost its shine. Maybe a little better than he had envisioned (Mingyu thought it must have been because Seungkwan spoke to you, giving both of you a little more closure), but not the warm and funny Seungkwan he always knew and cared about. Not a husk of himself, but a closed bud that was trying to survive the winter.

Seungkwan swallowed hard, apologizing for hesitating as he finally came and took his place across from Mingyu. They said little before Mingyu called over one of the staff, placing their orders for the both of them, and then the air fell completely quiet.

Mingyu decided to break that silence. “She told me that you two talked.”

Seungkwan had met his gaze for just a moment, calculating everything. How angry Mingyu was (no anger to be seen), and how to respond. “We did.”

“Did it help?”

His eyes widened a little in surprise, but he relaxed again. He nodded slowly. “It did.”

Even with all of his bitter feelings inside... It did bring a sense of relief to him. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad.”

“Do you hate me still?” Seungkwan asked outright. “I understand if you do. She must have told you--”

“She didn’t tell me anything,” he said. “Only that you two talked.”

Seungkwan nodded once more, taking in the information bit by bit. He didn’t speak for a minute longer, the awkward air growing thicker and sicker between them. But Mingyu didn’t press. He just waited, and watched as Seungkwan shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he finally found the courage to say what was on his mind: “You love her.”

It wasn’t a question, but Mingyu nodded anyway. “I do.”

“No, I’ve known--” Seungkwan said. “I never had a problem with it. You weren’t going to do anything. She.. wasn’t going to leave me because she loved me. You respected us, too.” He fiddled with his fingers in his lap, unsure of what to say. “Really, I didn’t know for a long time... but I think I realized it sometime before I broke her heart. I think she loves you too, now.”

Mingyu thought so, too. “I know.”

Seungkwan said nothing for a moment, pressing his lips together. And then he spoke again, voice quieter, “I think I lost my chances at love. And I hope you do it right and treat her better.”

“I will,” Mingyu said, and then felt pity for him. “I don’t think you’ve lost your chances--”

“They haven’t spoken to me in over a month,” Seungkwan said. “And I think they’re going to move on. I don’t think I deserve a chance to win them back. Not anymore.”

Seungkwan told Mingyu what he told you: that the two of them had fought after the proposal. That when he thought back on it, he saw the look in their eyes when they said yes, and he knew he’d made a mistake right then and there. He thought he lost them for good.

Seungkwan’s voice wavered as he finally met Mingyu’s gaze once again, eyes wet at the thought alone: “I’m scared that one day they’ll come into my office, and politely set the ring back onto my desk. And then they’ll look at me and say ‘thank you, but I can’t,’ and I’ll be left wondering whether they mean they can’t marry me or that they can’t love me anymore.”

Mingyu understood how he was hurting now. Even being away from you was hurting him, as much as he knew that the both of you needed it. It had helped him think a lot, after all. But Mingyu knew, too, that Seungkwan and his partner’s story was different. That infidelity tainted all of it, that Mingyu couldn’t help but think, deep down, that their love story deserved this when he saw what it was born from. Both of them knew that you would have fought for Seungkwan to be happy with someone he truly loved, even if it destroyed you. Mingyu would have fought for him, too: Seungkwan was his friend. You were his friend, too. Neither of you deserved to be trapped in a miserable marriage like that. Mingyu had to wonder if, in another life, Seungkwan would be happily married to this person now, or planning their wedding together while he consoled you through losing your love.

Was there any world where you and Seungkwan were happy? Mingyu didn’t want to think about it too long. It made him sick.

“I hope the two of you are happy,” Seungkwan said, so entirely genuine about it. “I know we’re not here to just talk about me, but... I don’t care what comes next anymore. I just want to know for certain if it’s over or not.”

Mingyu could understand that feeling, too. All he wanted was certainty.

The two of them ate quietly together once their meals were brought to them, and Mingyu insisted on paying for it all despite Seungkwan’s protests. After one long elevator ride together, the two exited out into the chilly night air. Seungkwan had turned to say something, only to be surprised by feeling Mingyu’s warm embrace.

“I have hope for you,” he said simply, stepping back after a moment. “I don’t know if I can forgive you for what you did to her... but I don’t think I can forgive you for something that hurt her. It’s my job to stand by her now,” he said. “But if she wants to forgive... then I will, too.”

Seungkwan nodded slowly. “Thank you for taking care of her,” he said. “And thank you for dinner.”

Mingyu watched as Seungkwan walked away from him into the night, hands tucked into his pockets with a sense of finality to him. He knew that things would never fully be the same, not after what Seungkwan did to you. But he knew that it was your decision in the end. If you wanted to accept Seungkwan back into your life at all, even at a distance, then Mingyu would support you in your decision.

All he could do was hope that Seungkwan found that the certainty he craved, and that he would eventually find happiness after it, too.

Halfway through the week, you needed some space to clear your head. Maybe it was because you knew that tomorrow was the day Mingyu was supposed to propose to you, and you wanted to call him as soon as you knew what you wanted to say. So with your things shoved into your pockets, you headed out into the city after calling back to Kibum that you were going for a walk. Honestly, maybe you should have brought the dogs with you. They’d probably appreciate getting the chance to go out again, but you didn’t want the additional stress of having to keep up with them for a bit. They’d been asleep when you left the apartment anyway.

Instead, you were glad you had no audience (human or canine) to the sappy smile you had on your face over your phone background. It was this picture of you and Mingyu together from after your attempt at ice skating together. He’d taken it with your phone, the two of you squished together happily like the other couples you’d seen around. It felt so overly cheesy, but the picture made your heart skip a beat whenever you saw it. What was it about acknowledging your feelings that made you so... fluttery? You had smiled to yourself, though, as you walked through the park, opening up Mingyu’s contact to ask if he wanted to call tonight.

Only for some jerk to run straight into you, sending you sprawling back onto the hard pavement. Pain sparked within your palms as you immediately dove to grab your phone and your jostled wallet, turning back to tell the person to watch where they were going--especially when they collided with you hard enough to hurt you... only to be met with the sight of Kim Mingyu standing over you with this astonished look on his face. He pulled an earbud from his ear, letting it dangle from his fingers for a moment before he finally offered a hand out to you.

“I wasn’t looking,” he said, and then pulled you to your feet. “I’m sorry.”

All of your complaints died down as you felt more sheepish that this was how you reunited with Mingyu. “It’s okay,” you said, taking a small step back. You watched as he stayed in place, tucking his hands into his pockets. “... Do you want to talk?”

Mingyu nodded, pulling out the other earbud and pausing his music. He shoved his phone back into his pocket before looking around, finally nodding past you at a bench facing the park not far from where the two of you were standing. The two of you sat together in an awkward silence, and you weren’t sure what to say. Hi, I love you? Hi, sorry I ran away from you, I was falling for you and got scared?

“... Can I come home tomorrow?” You finally settled on.

Mingyu looked up, a little taken aback before he nodded. “Of course. It’s your home, too.”

And that was all the two of you said then, the air growing awkward and quiet once more between the two of you.

And then you spoke at the same time: “Do you love me?”

Quiet. Awkward silence. You felt the heat rise to your face, and Mingyu averted his gaze.

“I think I do.” Your heart raced in your ears. “Is that okay?”

Mingyu turned back to you, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “It’s more than okay,” he placed his hand over your own, curling his fingers around it. “I think I love you, too.”

All you could do at first was smile, heart threatening to burst out of your chest at hearing him say it out loud. Your face was burning hot, and for a moment, you wondered if you were dreaming. But the weight of his hand on your own, the starry look in his eyes as he gazed at you... It felt too real. “I didn’t think this was going to happen.”

“Neither did I,” he said, smiling as he turned his head away from you again. He looked forward, hand still holding your own as if he were a schoolboy finally confessing to his crush. “I know we’re supposed to get engaged tomorrow, but... I still want to do this properly.” He squeezed your hand, turning back to you with a handsome confidence that only made you feel more enamored with him. “Can I take you out tomorrow?”

And oh that cute smile on his face--more bashful than charming now--only made your heart flutter. You hoped that Mingyu would always reserve these smiles for you and only you. “You may,” you teased. “I’d like that a lot.”

“When did you know?” He asked after a moment. “That you love me, I mean.”

“The day I left,” you said. “You?”

He was still smiling, gaze unable to settle on you for too long without him getting bashful again. “I’ve known. But... I think I only realized how much recently. I think I’ve always loved you.”

“Right,” you hummed. “Didn’t you say that we’re soulmates?”

He laughed warmly at that. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“You’re such a romantic,” you teased further. “Take a girl out on a boat ride and call her your soulmate... and then try to cover it up by saying your other best friend is your soulmate, too.”

You wouldn’t deny that you thought of Mingyu as your soulmate, too. You’d told yourself that it was platonic, but... Deep down, even then, you knew how you felt about Mingyu. That was why you wanted to run away that time, and that was why you ran away this time. But knowing that Mingyu loved you back felt freeing. A healing experience that you hadn’t known you needed, but then again, he’d been helping you heal all this time. He held your pieces in place as you stitched them back together. That was why you loved Kim Mingyu: he didn’t fix you, he helped you fill the cracks with gold and come back brighter and better than before.

“It’s late,” Mingyu said. “You should go back to Kibum. You have to pack, after all.”

Right. You were coming home tomorrow. You pulled your hand free from Mingyu’s, already missing the warmth of it as you stood up. and made the promise to let him know when you were ready tomorrow morning. He stood up, beginning to stretch as you started to walk away to start your return journey to Kibum’s apartment.

And then you turned around, calling his name loudly. He turned to face you as you raced toward him, only to get pulled forward so that you could kiss him happily. Although caught off guard, he smiled into the kiss a moment later, hands raising up to hold your face as he happily kissed you back. Mingyu’s lips were softer than they looked. You’d take things slow with Mingyu from this point onward, but you wanted to kiss him at least once before the two of you were engaged. Just to feel a little more like a real couple. And if it weren’t for the fact you needed to go home, you would have kissed him again and again (at least until someone voiced this disapproval).

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you promised him with a giggle, slowly drifting back from him.

And Mingyu stood there, watching you leave with the dopiest smile on his face. Right then and there, Mingyu decided that he was one-hundred-percent completely head over heels for you... and all it took was one kiss to prove it to him.

taglist: @twancingyunhao​ @synthetickitsune​ @wonuziex​

sweet night taglist: @twogyuu​ @itsveronicaxxx​ @caratluvie​  @xxluckydreamsxx​ @onlyasgoodasitgets​ @wasteitonserendipity​ @emmmui​

[lind-artist-blog]

<GET AWAY FROM HER!>

CW: this side story may be a bit triggering for some so reader discretion is advised.

Now, I have an ANGSTY story for you all! For context Rain is visiting A’kans clan in the mountains and is attacked by one of his clan memebers (her name is Ka’en and she’s Skatyari’s mother. And for those who don’t know Skatyari is Ke’txos fiancée.) with that being said ON WITH THE STORY!

I sat on the cliffside waiting for A’kan to grab something to drink. We were going to watch the the final eclipse and see the day turn to night. Kind of like watching the sunset back on earth but way better in my opinion. The planets were already reflecting the light with a warm orange glow that contrasted starkly against the deepening blue of the sky. I never get tired of watching these.

<What are you doing here?> A female voice spoke harshly behind me.

I whipped around and saw Skatyari’s mother glaring at me. I immediately got away from the cliff's edge. <I- I’m sorry was I not supposed to sit here? I’ll move->

<That is not what I meant.> Her words pierced the air like a knife and I felt my heart pounding in my chest.

<May I ask what you do mean?> I clutched at my poncho. This was… making me anxious.

<You are as dim as you are blind! Why did you really come to the Tun’ngay?> She tilted her head up and looked down on me with a sneer.

I felt my ears droop as the memory of Tsrälae finding me when I was twelve and all the struggles I’ve faced the past few years came back. <I...I’m not comfortable talking- >

<Because I would see through your lies?>

<What?> I stood there dumbfounded.

<Do you know why we call your kind dreamwalkers?> Ka’en grabbed my wrist holding my hand up. I felt my eyes burn.

<I-I don’t understand! Let go of me!>

<I know you taint our bodies with your demon blood to make them blind to the Eye of Eywa! You’re kind are a threat and always have been! You cannot fool me!>

I started to cry silently. Its stupid, but I couldn’t do anything else. I didn’t understand why she was being so cruel. What did I do to offend her?

<And now you use false emotions to gain sympathy? You will not get such weakness from me.> She then gripped my wrist so tightly I could feel the blood being cut off in my fingers. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt and I was trying so hard to get my emotions in control that my throat burned every time I opened my mouth. I had to get my emotions under control before I got hurt more.

She continued to drag me until we made it to the common meeting area in the center of the mountain. Olo’eykytan Ngäfti and Uk’leng looked up to see us and I could see Uk’leng suppress a growl but Leader Ngäfti lifted an arm as he quickly got up and stared at us.

<What is the meaning of this?> He asked sharply.

<The Tun’ngay are blind to what they allowed to live with them! I intend to make them see the danger that this demon in it’s false body represents to all Na’vi!> She threw me onto the ground in view of everyone. I let out a pained grunt when Ka’en grabbed my hair and then pulled up so that I was arching my back. I suppressed a sob and opened my eyes. I could see Uk’eng and Safiraye looking at me, but my head was reeling so much I couldn’t tell what expressions they were making. But I definitely heard Safiryae let out a hiss.

<Ka’en! What did Tompa tell you?> A’kan’s mother and the tsahik of their clan spoke clearly and with such force that everyone backed away as she walked towards us.

<She didn’t have to tell me anything! And no demon has ever had a name like ‘Tompa.’ It can not be her real name! All Dream Walkers lie!> I flinched as I heard her draw her knife from its sheath and held it under the collar of my poncho.

<The fact that she chooses to wear such strange clothing proves that she is hiding something!> and with a jerk of her blade, the poncho ripped and fell to the ground. She let go of my hair and I collapsed, my back was exposed. My back was exposed! I heard gasps and whispers from the Kawk’syal and I could hear hisses. Trembling, I tried to gather the tattered poncho to cover up again, but Ka’en stepped on my hand. I repressed a scream of pain as I looked pitifully up at her

<Something with scars like these should not be allowed to live!> Ka’en sneered as I weakly watched her raise the blade over her head.

<GET AWAY FROM HER!>

I saw the blurred silhouette of A’kan tackling A’kan off of me. He brought me into an embrace, shielding my back from the crowd. With one arm around my shoulders and his other hand held his sätstal between us and Ka’en. He let out a roar like hiss in her direction. I was in shock... I couldn’t speak. All I could do was repress my sobs. I could feel myself shaking uncontrollably in A’kans arms and he held me tighter.

<ENOUGH!> I heard Ngäfti’s stern voice echo through the mountain cluster. I looked up, trembling in A’kans arms as he approached.

<Ma A’kan, Escort Tompa and the Tun’ngay’s Tsahik back home. Leader Uk’leng, Ning’seo, stay here. I’d like speak to you privately.>

<YOU CAN NOT BE SERIOUS!> Ka’en tried to object as she got up and I could tell A’kan was glaring daggers at her… I kept my eyes on the ground… I didn’t want her to grab me again…

<Your actions have brought shame to us all Ka’en! We will discuss this when Tompa is safe.> Ngäftì glared at Ka’en before turning around to speak with Uk’leng and the other members of the clan.

I was in a daze as I was helped to my feet and led by A’kan to the Ikrans. I couldn’t remember the whole flight back to the forest. Everything was in a blur like a pointless painting. It was only when we landed and Tsahik Safiryae and Tsrälae ran up to me asking me questions. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I do remember staring at them for a minute before I felt the tears well up again.

“I...I want to go to my bunk.” was all I could say. I slowly began to walk to the caves with my head down when Akan grabbed my hand.

“I will go with you.”

I looked up, a bit shocked, I never heard him speak English before. Listlessly I looked over to Tsakik and Tsrälae and they both nodded.

“I will come too. I don’t want you to be alone.” Tsrälae said and led us both to the caves where my bunker was moved. A’kan kept squeezing my hand as we walked and I could tell he was upset. As soon as we were inside, I burst into tears again. I tried to push the sobs back but they broke through. I felt so pathetic and weak. Both A’kan and Tsrälae held me as I broke down and they guided me to the makeshift pillow fort I constructed when I was a kid. We laid down looking up at the trinkets gifted to me by the Tun’ngay and only then I began to calm down a bit.

My heart was so heavy in my chest. I didn’t want to think about what happened but it was so hard not to. Ka’en was so vicious and angry at me for what the humans had done to her home and her family. And she directed her anger towards me… I wish she didn’t but maybe I deserved it.

I rolled over and felt A’kan wrap his arm around my waist and I felt my body tense up a bit, but I wasn’t afraid. He kept me safe...he is safe. I felt my eyes grow heavy as sleep overcame me and everything went black... That’s the last thing I could remember.

[ejzah]

In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 19

***

“Before we do anything else, I should probably put on real clothes,” Deeks said, ruefully attempting to flatten his bed head.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Kensi assured him. True, it wasn’t his neatest look ever, but there was something very appealing about his mussed appearance. It felt…intimate.

Feeling mischievous, Kensi leaned across the table and kissed Deeks quickly. It was more than worth it for the surprised “o” of Deeks’ parted lips. He grinned then, a teasing little twist of his lips.

“Yeah, but if I don’t get changed, we can’t go for a walk on the beach,” he said with a wink. “Or get fish tacos.”

“Ooh, those were really good. Ok, go shower, and I’ll clean this up,” Kensi decided, and started pushing the wrappers and napkins from their breakfast into a pile in the middle of the table.

As she gathered it up in a ball, she realized Deeks was watching her, his expression no longer teasing.

“What?” She checked her shirt for stray bagel crumbs or toothpaste.

“This is nice.” Deeks shrugged, continuing to regard her fondly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a moment like this. With another person. For so long, it’s just been me and Caleb. I mean, Caleb’s amazing, but it’s not the same as this.”

“You just appreciate my cleaning services,” Kensi joked. He snorted at that, downing the rest of his coffee in a single gulp.

“Right. That’s what I’ve been looking for all this time: a housekeeper.” Standing up, dropped a kiss on Kensi’s temple, which somehow seemed more intimate than if he’d kissed her full on the lips. “Besides, I’ve seen your place.”

“Hey!” Kensi protested, lightly smacking his arm.

“What I mean is, I didn’t realize how much I missed this kind of companionship and conversation,” Deeks explained. “I haven’t felt or wanted that from anyone in a really long time.”

Since Monica, Kensi filled in silently. A confession like that should scare her, but it didn’t. Deeks filled a void she hadn’t even realized was there. One that Jack certainly never had, if she was being completely honest with herself.

That seemed like just a little too much honesty for this early in the day. She focused on the table in front of her, methodically gathering crumbs in the center, rather than facing Deeks’ affection.

“You’re right, you better shower so we can get out there before all the tacos are gone.”

“Ok.” She heard the confusion in Deeks’ voice, but thankfully he didn’t press her on it. “I’ll be ready in about 20 minutes,” he said, slipping out of the kitchen.

Sighing, Kensi sat down at the table again, dropping her head into her hands.

“Kensi, you’re such an idiot,” she muttered to herself.

***

Deeks emerged a short time later as promised, hair damp and still clinging to his cheeks and temples, pajamas now swapped out for jeans and a black v-neck Tee.

“Alright, I no longer smell like Caleb’s late night snack and I’m not in danger of getting picked up for vagrancy,” he joked, instantly putting Kensi at ease.

“You seem really concerned about that possibility. Is there something I should know about?” Kensi asked, following him out to his truck.

“Deeks rolled his eyes, leaning against the driver’s door. “In law school and at my last job, it was a running joke because I didn’t exactly fit the expected look for a lawyer. Some even called me “Shaggy”.

“That’s rude.”

“Eh, it was said fondly.” He cocked his head, and amended, “Mostly. I never ever really meshed with a couple guys.”

“Well, they sound like jerks,” Kensi decided, drawing a laugh from Deeks.

He opened the door and slid in while Kensi went around to the passenger side. As she got in, she carefully moved a stray goldfish and Junior B. Jones book off the seat. Otherwise, the interior was spotless, and she decided it was a good thing they hadn’t taken her car. At least not until she got a chance to vacuum it.

“I appreciate your support, but you get pretty thick-skinned at an early age when you decide to grow your hair this length,” Deeks continued once they were both buckled in. “Plus, I’m pretty good at holding my own when I feel the need.”

“That explains why you walked away from your encounter with Sam Hanna alive. You never did tell me the entirety of your conversation.”

“Oh, I was very impressive.” Deeks pulled out of the driveway, pausing to wink at Kensi. “And I will tell you all about it, but first we have tacos.”

***

They ended up taking a long walk along the pier again while they waited for the food truck to finish setting up. Every the social butterfly, Deeks paused three separate times to greet passersby he apparently met during his runs. He probably had acquired more acquaintances in just a few months of living in LA full time than she had her entire time here.

It was just about noon when they made there way back around to the row of food vendors, and joined a small line in front of the taco truck.

“Do you ever regret making the move here?” Kensi asked as they leisurely walked over to a bench and sat down. Deeks contemplated her question with half a taco suspended in mid-air.

“At first I thought I’d made a huge mistake,” he admitted. “Even though I spent so much time in LA as a kid, it’s not the same as living and working her, and working with celebrities is almost crazier sometimes than what I did before, danger aside.” He paused and scanned the horizon, settling with his gaze on the ocean. “But I needed a change, Caleb’s thriving here, and,” now he turned to her with one of his crooked smiles. “We never would have met you if we stayed in Iowa. So no, not a single regret so far.”

Kensi ducked her head, flushing at the implied compliment. “My life hasn’t been so bad since I met you either,” she said. “Definitely a lot less quiet, but I suppose my life was getting kind of boring.”

“You mean 20-some kindergarteners don’t fill every day with unique and unexpected experiences?”

“Of for sure. Yesterday, I had to tell three different children not to like their pain daubers. They don’t wreak havoc with their flirty smiles though and way too tight pants every day.”

“Oh, my pants are too tight? I can go up a size—”

“No, I’m not complaining,” Kensi clarified quickly. “I’m just concerned about the other teachers.”

“Sure.” Deeks grinned again, like it made perfect sense. “So what I’m hearing is that I’m too attractive for my own good.”

“That is not what I said.”

“What exactly do they say about me? The other teachers.”

“Things that make me very jealous. Happy now?”

He didn’t say anything his smug little smile as finished the last bite of his taco and brushed his hands off over the sand saying everything Kensi needed to know. Shaking her head, Kensi muttered under her breath, ignoring Deeks when he nudged her shoulder.

“Hey, you know I’m only joking, right? I only have eyes for one teacher.”

Kensi glared at him through narrowed eyes. Standing up, Deeks held out his hand, and after a moment, let him tug her to her feet. He slipped a hand around her waist, using the other to support her back, and swung her back in a deep dip. He held her there for a moment, then kissed her soundly.

She couldn’t contain a surprised laugh that bubbled up, and clasped her arms around Deeks’ neck as he gently pulled her upright again.

“I guess you’re off he hook this time,” she decided, brushing her nose against his. “But I’m keeping my eye on you, Mr. Deeks.

***

A/N: Don’t worry, Caleb shall return soon. Sometimes you do need a little adult time to yourself. The Kensi/Deeks day will continue in the next chapter.

As always, I can’t thank everyone enough for your love and support for this story.

[recycled-phantoms]

My Artist’s Year in Review

Unfortunately, I haven’t put out much art this year. So I’m using my favourite sketch pages from this year instead of pieces. I’ve had a lot of struggles w/ my mental health and personal real-life problems, so doing full pieces seemed a daunting task. But hopefully in this new year, I’ll be able to do more full pieces!

Pages (and artist’s notes) under the cut!

December 2022

This was a difficult time for me motivation-wise, and this was the only full page I made at that point, as most of my (now-lost) art was digital then! My favourite sketch here is the Grant Cohen in blue at the bottom.

2. January 2023

Another especially-difficult month for me. Again, the only full page I was able to fill, unfortunately. I really like the Norman in the top-left corner; he was so fun to draw!

3. February 2023

My bestie (@harmonyblossom19 btw, hey girl) had said that MatPat gave off Fred ScoobyDoo vibes, so I drew their fusion—dubbing him “FredPat” shortly thereafter. It was the best of February’s doodles, though I’m still not proud of it. This was around the time I moved here from my old blog!

4. March 2023

Do y’all remember The Orchard Mystery Series, that set of OCs I had a while ago? Well, here's the main two characters–Dick and Melanie! I wanted to try a washed background and layering the sketch on top of it—though I should have looked up some tutorials before taking on this task lmao

5. April 2023

I posted this one on my Instagram (@/biblically_accurate_art btw if you want to see my art)! I got back into TMA after finally getting over the hump with some depression. Ngl, absolutely love drawing s3 Jon.

6. May 2023

Ace but with a binder. Nothing else to say here, except that this was when I rediscovered Yugioh. These suckers ware going to get me through uni istg….

7. June 2023

More OCs! These guys are part of my Arthuriana-based universe, The Quest for the Atlas Dias / The Atlas Stone. Meet Sol, Lyra, and Finnigan!

8. July 2023

The only complete page I have for July lol. I’m especially proud of Ryou in the Spotify colours here!

9. August 2023

I drew this after coming home from the camping trip that inspired the DMAU! I picked my favourite (left) and least-favourite (right) outfits, and drew my blorbos in them. Yugi’s bag is still my favourite bag I own irl to this day.

10. September 2023

My favourite page out of this collection fr. I did fuck up Season 0 Yami/Maou’s hair, but the whole page is just a joy to look at. Tbh, I wish my current style worked with this type of page format.

11. October 2023

My birth month babeyyyyy! And to celebrate ya boy’s 18th, I decided to draw some really nice-looking Ryous, and a full-body Yugi! The Ryou doodles are my favourite here, purely for the way the hair looks.

12. November 2023

THIS! 👏 FUCKING! 👏 PIECE! 👏

I love every aspect of this piece to DEATH! The way Atem is looking at Yugi, their facial expressions, the clothes, the pins on Yugi’s shirt! This is definitely one of, if not the best piece here.

13. December 2023

This is all of the OCs I’ve stuck together for various universes. Lilith and Star are from a D&D-inspired universe called Spires of Heavenly Light and Shadow, and of course, Lyra and Sol are from TQFTAD. I’m so in love with the Star doodle here.

This was a train wreck of a year, but I think I pulled myself out of it pretty well. I hope your years have been just as great, if not better!

[polyboros]

2k23 writing in review: it's mostly sauces

JANUARY

“i’m going to be the one to kill you,” she tells them. “it’s mine. so don’t die, acevedo.” a smile, cheeky. “they’d have to try harder than this,” they answer. not quite a promise, but the look in their eyes is brighter than the lightning. she snorts, rolls over. their footsteps are soft when they leave.

from fine in fire and of frame, a blaseball au fic about luisjon (<3)

FEBRUARY

IF YOU COULD EVER DO ANYTHING AT ALL IF YOU COULD EVER DO anything at all if you could ever claw your way out of here and back into his body where he couldn’t take it back because he killed the only good thing in his life  you’d kill him. you’d kill him you’d kill him you’d kill him and you will not let yourself forget that NOT LIKE YOU’VE FORGOTTEN THE REST OF YOU

from when the radio's gone (we've got to turn it back on), a sauces rewrite fic

MARCH

[The camera distorts. When the feed returns to normal, 10 has his hand crossed over his chest to rest on his shoulder, between streaks of red-brown stark on the white cloth, splayed in a mockery of fingers—as if he’s holding someone’s hand. There is something inexplicably soft in his expression.] 10: I’m working on it. Do you want to hear about it? RADIO: [STATIC] 10: It always went over his head too, don’t worry. I’ll walk you through it.

from the weighty click of her heart against my spine, a sauces horror au fic

APRIL

the books are heavy in evan’s hand, and he’s happy to drop the bag in the booth next to echo, sliding across from them as they start sorting through them. “that was quick,” they hum. they had said something similar, over the comms. evan shrugs it off like he did then, too. “it’s a day trip. wasn’t any trouble- i’ve been meaning to get some honey from there, anyway.” “they have honey?” with a little bit more prodding, evan launches into a description of the grounds around the library, punctuating his points with the occasional reminder that echo is more than capable of sneaking around (remember that event?) and that yes, he’d go with them if they did, they’re a bad influence (that gets a laugh). the waiter comes to take their drink orders, and evan pauses to finally flip through the menu. 

from we are far too young and clever, a sauces fic about echo/evan, beloved crow-ocs

MAY

their next breath comes out icy over their crossed arms, shivers seizing their spine, and they decide not to ask. instead: “i’m not going to be the in-between for your- goddamn divorce.” it draws a laugh out of it. a piece of void peels out from between eli’s fingers, flicking back and forth in some gesture that could mean okay or that’s what you think or more laughter. they reach with their other hand and push it back into their palm, holding it there until it slips beneath their skin again. 

from i made it late, didn't have a vision, a sauces fic about eli meeting the void's kid

JUNE

declan casts no shadow across the bushels of blooming pink-red flowers, nothing to protect them from the beating heat of the midday sun. for the rest of the day, the house will do that for them; the plants are carefully nestled in the place that gets the most shade, protected from the worst of the wind and light. eli joins him a few minutes later, wings extended. in their shadow, the flowers seem small. what’re these called? he tells them. oh, eli says. that’s kind of depressing. maybe. declan should’ve planted these before, instead of the sunflowers. they would’ve kept better down there, beneath that spire. but he planted the sunflowers. not really, he finally answers. too little, too late.

from fasciation, a declan shepherd of sauces fame character study

JULY

EV: cave diver? EV: you’re kidding. EL: what, like it’s hard? EV: i mean. EV: the skeletons? EV: and other things in there. EL: the skeletons EV: you know what i mean.

from it's just friends in here, a sauces chatfic between eli & evan

AUGUST

“this is a bad idea.” “i know,” the gardener says, indulgently.  the shadows slide over his skin harmlessly, the chill more chastising than cutting. finally, they slide out into the light, facsimile of human arms pulling him close. “i know you do,” they sigh, thousands of bad ideas in a tattered trenchcoat. scars from their last mortal form scrape across his cheek. he leans into their hand fondly.

from collect, collect, collect my anchor, another sauces au fic

SEPTEMBER

lazarus writes them all neatly under present, and then pauses at past, looking back up. hestia meets their eyes again—her hands have moved from gripping her companions’ forearms to holding their hands, and she squeezes them once for reassurance before she speaks again. “past names- the first ones we don’t remember, for the most part. and the second…” another glance. the smallest of nods.  “guy. guy shepherd. for- for all of us.” they don’t miss a beat in writing it down, again and again, and with each time they all seem to relax, tension loosening in pressed-together shoulders. “it’s nice to meet you,” lazarus says, and they don’t say again, they can’t say again, but that doesn’t matter so much.

from say i won't return, but i never learn, a sauces fic about guy & 5, two fragments of nemesis (and dearly beloved)

OCTOBER

“yo-ou’re go-o-onna trip and ea-at shit,” declan teases, swinging his legs. his perch atop the porch railing gives him the perfect view of echo walking across the grass, tentatively working their heels across the grass and dirt and errant roots. “i wa-ant a gi-i-irl with sho-oes that cut-” “you had plenty of faith in my abilities asking me to become your partner in crime,” echo retorts, drawing out the plenty with an exaggerated shake of their head. “just ‘cause i’m taking a bit to get used to it doesn’t mean shit. i’d love to see you try.” declan sticks his tongue out, kicking a foot out in echo’s direction. “ki-ickin’ bo-oth my heels off- do-on’t need ‘em!” “it’s not about need, dec, ‘s about looking good. obviously.”

from it's a shipwreck note for note, a sauces fic about echo & dec in the leadup to their first joint heist

NOVEMBER

eli huffs a laugh, gently brushing some hair behind his ear. “fish for compliments some more, you’ve almost got me hooked.” declan mimes a fishhook with one hand and loops it around their wrist, squishing their palm into his cheek. “oh- dork. seriously, though, i- you look really good. i like the motif? ‘s less grotesque than the corset usually is.” “i’m cu-ute,” he sings cheekily, beaming up at them. they roll their eyes and extract their hand from his grasp, wiping off lingering grime on their cargo shorts and glancing dec’s face over for any sign of dirt. none. “da-ance, dan-ce- co-ome and sha-are it with me?”

from GET INTO THE GROOVE, a sauces fic about eli accidentally stumbling right into dec's lovecore trick. honorary mention to the like seven other fics i wrote in november, six of which were a part of the saucesversary project (3 years!!)

DECEMBER

snow covers the ground in uneven slopes, the highest of which get up to declan’s knees; the crop fields are completely covered despite the best of their efforts to shovel it, most of which they’ve given up on by now. the greenhouse is the last bastion of plants, but every time they try and tend to it more than twice a day eli grabs them by the arm, and they can practically hear their dads—can’t go out to the greenhouse all the time, as if declan hasn’t changed an ounce from the little kid who used to sit in the window and sulk at the weather.

from let's go down to bremen, a sauces fic about declan reuniting with guycule on spectre with... some difficulties

END NOTE

this was a fucking insane year for original content, for me, and obviously i have to shoutout the sauces crew fur that because holy shit man. it's like sauces in here. there were a couple more fics i posted to ao3 i could've put on here but i didn't want to! as always if you're curious about sauces - talk to me about it. furever. my asks are always open i love infodumping. here's to a lovely 2024<3!!

[by-nina]

Before the Sun Comes

AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2022 | Day 3 – Arrival Rating: M (sexual content, pregnancy, childbirth) Genre: Romance Word Count: 1,080

For several blissful months, Roy builds his life anew with Riza, a life of working towards their shared dreams and enjoying simple domestic joys, and eventually, anticipation.

———

For years and years, Roy has awaited this night.

He is drunk on the bliss of marrying the love of his life, dazed by the warmth with which the people of Amestris congratulate them because their marriage had been a long time coming, say some; the people are inspired by their evident devotion to each other, say many others; and no one can imagine him with anyone other than Colonel Riza Hawkeye, who has tirelessly shared and supported his vision for the country since before he became Führer, the perfect picture of a First Lady working to serve the people.

He is dazzled by Riza in her wedding dress, how she glows with a joy he hasn’t seen in her since they were young, how she holds him close when they dance. He kisses her once, then twice, then countless more times throughout the reception until the end of the night, when they find themselves alone in their bedroom at last. Here, they dance to nothing but the sound of their own footsteps, contented sighs, the occasional laugh when they stumble out of tiredness or from how much they’ve had to drink tonight.

“You’re a terrible dancer,” Riza teases him with her face half-buried in his neck.

“That’s a harsh first impression.”

“I expected better from you, but I’ll try anything once.”

Smiling, Roy leans more closely into her hair, kissing her behind her ear. “Anything?”

She looks up with a half-curious, half-expectant expression, and Roy nearly loses his balance between the wine heightening his senses and this kind of unreserved physical closeness that he might not ever get used to with her. He dips her, and she clings to his shoulder in surprise, shrieking with laughter. When they rise, he pulls her in, resuming their dance for only a moment before the swaying slows to a stop.

Behind Riza is a lush upholstered armchair; Roy steps back and grasps her by the arms, letting her sink into it, legs crossed, before lowering himself on one knee in front of her. He lets go, sliding one of his hands down her arm until he is pressing her silk-gloved fingers to his lips.

He looks up and continues the question he has just asked, “Then may I call you Mrs. Mustang?”

Roy sees Riza’s chest rise and fall with a deep breath. “Say it again.”

A pleasant heat blooms in his chest as he kisses her hand again, spreading through his body as he repeats her new name over every inch of her arm that his mouth covers in an upward trail. His lips eventually find her skin past the hem of her glove at the same time that his free hand slides into the slit of her dress, slowly tracing the outline of her thigh. She draws a sharp breath, and her shoulder curls inward as if to welcome his mouth when he gets there, then suddenly he feels her hand running over the front of his shirt, snaking into the gaps where the cloth parts in between the buttons to press into his bare chest underneath.

Then Riza’s fingers trace a path up toward Roy’s neck at the same time that he abandons her jaw in favor of her lips, and from there he becomes consumed by delirium, his inventory of every part of her that he wants to satisfy lost in his mind as their bodies become tangled with each other.

Here his hand fumbles impatiently with something on her dress, and there she tugs his trousers down his legs. In one moment, he’s leaning his head back and gasping for breath as her head bobs back and forth between his legs, and in the next, he’s shuddering as he thrusts and thrusts and thrusts into her, set off by the way she gasps her pleas and moans his name. All the while his desire for her grows—not only for the Riza he’s long trusted and adored, but for this Riza that he’s meeting anew, falling apart like a moth to his flame, setting off sparks each time with each touch of her lips, her breasts, her hips.

“Beautiful,” he whispers as he kisses her amid messy sheets and disheveled hair and rocking bodies. “Beautiful,” he breathes like he never has before, never having had the chance to truly get lost in the moment of making love to her, always having had to move with caution and restraint against long-burning desire. “You’re beautiful,” he says, frenzied by the freedom to finally speak the words plainly to his wife. “You’re mine.”

He’s never known a more perfect night all his life.

———

For several blissful months, Roy builds his life anew with Riza, a life of working towards their shared dreams and enjoying simple domestic joys, and eventually, anticipation. Their first night as husband and wife turns into weeks of questions they never thought they would ask each other or of themselves, then months of excitement and doubt and affection and fear, all at once. Their joy does not remain a secret for long, and it grows tenfold when they find it shared by their loved ones and the people of Amestris.

They religiously count the days leading up to this new chapter of their lives together. The Führer’s mansion slowly begins to change, and with each new piece of furniture and brightly colored decor that comes in, it becomes more of a home. Their schedules and their bodies adjust to new demands, and their plans begin expanding to make room for one more. All the while, their love for each other grows—and Roy is beside Riza when the day finally arrives, holding her hand amid her pained yells and gasps for breath and his own frantic heartbeat.

It goes on for hours on end, and then before they know it, the whole ordeal is over.

Riza has enough strength left in her still to cradle their child, who is swaddled in a soft, old rose-colored blanket and gasping as her sobs begin to subside. The doctors tell them that she produced a good, strong cry when she came out—the most beautiful sound either Roy or Riza has ever heard—and that she is healthy. She has his dark head of hair and his almond-shaped eyes, but her eyes are the same shade of brown as Riza’s.

Tears fill Roy’s eyes as he grasps their daughter’s tiny hand, thanking the heavens for this perfect night.

“Hello, Isabelle,” he whispers. “My sunshine.”

———

A/N: For old friends and readers, you read that right.

For the uninitiated, please go ahead and read You’ll Be in My Heart!

[taran-chan]

on a Wednesday, in a cafe (chapter 21)

Read on AO3

monday lunchbox: grilled eel rice

It’s Gilgamesh’s birthday. It’s his fucking birthday, and he’s standing in his kitchen, making breakfast for them at 6:30 am, wearing nothing but his boxer and his “Kiss The Cook” apron, with a drawing of himself in a cartoonish way that she painted on not so long ago, and looking as delicious as a feast. Thena watches him from the kitchen door, she’s wearing his oversized hoodie and her expression is mixed between frustration and amusement.

“I planned to give you a birthday present in bed, you know,” She uncrosses her arms and walks over to kiss him good morning, “I even set the alarm 30 minutes early. It’s your birthday, you shouldn’t have gotten up this early.”

“I won’t give up any chance to pamper you,” Gil murmurs against her lips, his hands sneaking under the hoodie, “What did you plan anyway?”

Thena rises up on her toes, and whatever that she’s whispering into his ears makes him groan and hide his burning face into her neck, all the while holding her tighter. She’s nearly able to feel the thumping of his heart.

“Can I still collect my gift tonight?” He asks shyly.

“It’s your last chance,” Thena chuckles, rubbing his hair and kissing his reddened ears. Her eyes land on the lunchbox on the table, next to a thermos bottle that contains hot soup.

“You start selling your eel lunchboxes today, right?”

“Yeah, we’re switching to our summer menu from today,” he nods, “I took Makkari’s advice so I’ll just prepare a dozen boxes only. You get the first one.”

“Lucky me.”

Gil began to make lunchboxes for Thena to bring to work last week, after hearing from Kingo that someone at their firm got food poisoning because of the lunch meals at their cafeteria. They went to buy lunchboxes together. Thena chose an oval wooden box, and Gil picked a white wrap cloth with golden star patterns on it. They didn’t forget to buy a new waffle maker because Thena broke his old one when she tried to make waffles and then literally set it on fire. She doesn’t have anything to complain about, really, she’s eating better than ever.

“How many tacos do you think you can get for an eel lunchbox?” She asks while munching on her French toast and raspberries.

“I’m not sure,” Gil rubs his chin, “But definitely it’ll be more expensive than our regular lunch set. And it’s also limited, therefore if Jake and Layla order too late, there won’t be any left for them.”

“I think it could be approximately a special combo in their restaurant,” Thena says, “It’s insanely good.”

She got to try the grilled eel rice once with Sprite, Makkari and Ajak on the day they tried out their summer menu, including other goodies such as Ajak’s orange and guava tea and Makkari’s fruit tart. And after their camping trip, because Steven has excellently completed his mission of watching Arishem (the red iguana even looks chubbier after spending two days at his house), Gil gave him lots of coupons for the rainbow trouts they caught. A few days later, Eternal treated Steven, as well as Marc and Jake, the other two of the triplets, a hearty lunch. Ajak learned that Marc owns a Mexican restaurant three blocks away, she called for Gil and the five of them discussed for about 10 minutes, then agreed to trade food with each other. Two medium-sized drinks equal a large nacho, one slice of cake/pie equals one burrito and a lunch set equals a quesadilla.

Since that day, they’ve been buying lunches and sometimes Sprite’s after-school snacks from Marc’s restaurant. Her final exam is coming so she uses the times when they don’t get many customers to study, and she’s been increasingly asking Thena to teach her maths and physics, to the point the older woman feels like a tutor. She even worries as the exam week is approaching, which is this week.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Gil says, clearing the table, “You two worked very hard for this. It’ll pay off.”

“You too were so worried that you didn’t let her eat eels or anything that has seaweed, because she might “slip and fell”.”

“Hey, I didn’t fail once in my school years thanks to that trick.”

Thena just rolls her eyes, pulling him closer by the straps of his apron and kissing him. Her irresistible dessert. Gil sends her to work with many more kisses, as if he wants to make sure she won’t forget her promise for tonight. It’s a long day already.

★

The lunchbox is still warm when she opens it at noon. On the soft rice are two big pieces of eel that were deboned, soaked in BBQ sauce and grilled, sprinkled with a thin layer of sesame seeds. On the side is some stir-fried morning glory. The sweet and rich BBQ sauce has combined with the eel meat beautifully, a dot of nutty sesame seed here and there makes her unable to stop her spoon. There’s also hot miso soup to refresh whenever she gets tired of the greasiness. The meal is so good Thena tries to eat it slowly so that it won’t end. She’s talking with Gil over the phone at the moment.

“Have you had your lunch?” She asks.

“We’re waiting for Layla to deliver our lunch,” he sounds like an excited boy, “Turns out two eel lunchboxes can be traded with their special lunch set and drinks! Can you believe that?”

“I told you this morning. It’s incredible, you underestimate yourself this time.”

She hears him laugh, “Are you having lunch as well? Don’t skip your meal, okay?”

“Not a chance. I just call to tell you that Kingo saw my lunchbox when he stopped by my office to deliver some files, then he ran out of the building, I think he’s heading to Eternal.”

“So you call to tell me to leave him a lunchbox?”

“Only because he’s doing a pretty decent job this month. Besides, he’s probably come bearing your gift. Is there any box left?”

“Just one. I’ll save it for him then.”

“Thanks, darling, I’ll try to leave early today,” she purrs.

“Looking forward to it,” he lowers his voice, “I miss you, Thena.”

“Miss you.”

★

When Thena steps into Eternal’s backyard that evening, she finds Gil and Makkari up to their necks in the kitchen. It looks like there are many customers at the front, they seem to be short of cakes because Gil is making something that looks like a fruit roll cake. She decides not to distract them and steps up the stairs. She used the key he gave her on their one-month anniversary to open the door. The lights are on, Arishem turns his attention to her as she enters the living room. She comes over to the tank, petting and feeding him some dry food and then moves on to the kitchen to find some lettuce for him (Gil always stores at least one or two in the fridge).

On the table is her dinner: spaghetti Napolitan and salad Caesar with a poached egg. There’s also a note from Gil, saying that if she’s back while he’s busy with his shop, she should have dinner first and to apologize, her dessert is in the fridge. She grins when she finds a square container with blueberry tiramisu inside. She washes her lunchbox and thermos bottle, both empty, knowing that Gil would be very happy and proud of himself because she finished the lunch he prepared. Then she brings her dinner and Arishem’s into the living room to eat with the animal, looking at all of the presents that their friends have stopped by and given him during the day. They are stacked on the coffee table, he’s probably too busy and doesn’t have time to put them away. He said he wanted to spend the evening with Thena so they don’t organize a birthday party, yet he still got presents. Ajak gave him a new teapot, Kingo brought a Bluray set of Godfather movies and a thank you note for the lunchbox, Sprite gave him a keychain with a grizzly bear attached, Druig sent a fancy wine bottle, Phastos and his family: a huge flower lego set, Sersi and Ikaris gave him…a set of new pots and pans to replace the ones that have black spots at the bottom that Gil can never scrub clean after their camping trip. Thena’s very happy on his behalf. Her Gilgamesh deserves the entire world for simply existing in it.

“Thena?” Gil calls out the moment he steps inside and sees her shoes. She stands up from the couch and he rushes to her, sweeping her up her feet and into his arms. He kisses her deeply, whispering his apologies for making her wait. Her arms automatically loop themselves around his shoulders and he starts carrying her toward his bedroom.

“Have you had dinner?”

“I have.”

“Good, my turn. I’ve been waiting all day,” he kicks the door shut.

★

Gilgamesh is lying between Thena’s legs, his head pillowed on her stomach and he exhales a satisfying breath. They’re both sated, sinking into the bed while caressing each other lazily. Gil peppers her stomach with kisses, she slips a hand into his hair and tries to sit up, but he pulls her onto his lap and keeps kissing her. She indulges him for a good while more, then covers his eyes.

“Close your eyes.”

“But I want to look at you,” he pouts.

“How am I supposed to surprise you with your gifts then?”

“You have more gifts for me?”

“Of course. You think I didn’t get you any?”

“But I thought… We just…”

Thena laughs, “My love, you deserve more than one gift from me. Now listen to me and close your eyes.”

He does as told and she climbs off his lap. She opens the wardrobe, retrieving her lavenders and forget-me-nots bouquet and back to bed, reclaiming her position in his lap. She wraps her legs around his torso and he holds her hips, already beaming, “It smells nice. Did you get me flowers?”

“You can look now,” she says.

His smile is brighter when he sees the big bouquet. He can be so delighted with the small things in life, and she loves him for it.

“I think there’s something in the middle,” she points out. He draws out a paper hidden among the lavenders. It’s an advertisement for a seaside resort that Thena printed out from their website.

“I realized we haven’t had a summer vacation to the beach so I deliberately made a reservation. Last weekend of June. Two days and one night but I can extend it if you want,” Thena blushes, “Can you save those two days for us?”

Gil is nodding repeatedly, like a puppet on a string.

“Just you and me?”

“Just you and me.”

“You spoiled me rotten.”

“Don’t be silly, I barely got the chance to,” she disagrees.

“Maybe I’ll get to put sunscreen on you,” he says, moving the bouquet out of the way so they can be pressed against one another. She feels him harden beneath her and moans against his lips.

“I’ll grill lots of seafood,” he goes on, kissing her down the mattress, “Bringing you many rounds of mojito, and making sweet, passionate love to you any time, anywhere you want.”

“Fuck, I love you so much,” she gasps. She can’t wait until the last weekend of June.

[alaska386]

F!Bsd anime watcher in the bsd world… pt 3/?

(No eyebrows emo mentioned)

Brief information for the F!bsd anime watcher(I’ll name her Victoria cuz I say so):

-Name: Victoria [last name I’ll just type ‘XXX’ in the introduction time(s)]

-Gender: Female, Pronouns: She/Her

-Age: 14 years old (idk how to write thoughts, behaviour, moods, goals that are ‘mature’ like adults’ ones cuz idk what they think so I set her as a teenager for myself to write this thing easier)

-Ability: Yall are gonna vote on if she’s gonna have an ability from nowhere

-Sexuality: Bisexual

-Nationality: Chinese(I don’t wanna accidentally write some racist stuff if I say American or British or whatsoever)

-Languages she knows/understands/speaks: Chinese/Mandarin/Putonghua(Don’t worry I won’t make her speak Chinese in the story-), fluent English

-Likes: Music(Classical, Relaxing ones are her preferences), Anime and Mangas(not patient enough to read a full series without skipping some chapters, just like me fr), desserts and snacks, nature sceneries, rainy days(the louder the rain the better), knives, comfy clothes, psychology

-Dislikes: Dogs, pain, school, homework, studying, bitter pills, loud people and noises

-Hobbies: drawing on a paper and in a drawing app, singing, family stuff, *being read like an open book*

-Appearance: dark brown hair and eyes, around Kenji’s height

-Main bsd kins: Dazai, Ryunosuke, Kyouka, Sigma(always in the middle of some arguments and shits)

-Birthday: 1/4/20XX

-Personality: Has social anxiety, rather quiet, sometimes can’t express herself fluently but tries to and tries to hide the things she thinks she should. Thinks quite negatively, does not fully show it as well, gets nervous easily but doesn’t show it often as well(which Ranpo, Dazai and some other smart/manipulative characters can definitely realise/see through)

-Extra: she trusts fate but not luck

Btw her character settings some are actually based off mine cuz I figure that it’ll be easier to write this if I imagine her as myself and I’ve imagined myself in the bsd word many times.

Summary of the last chapter: Victoria was pushed into the agency by Ranpo during Atsushi’s entrance exam, aka bsd season 1 episode 2, after that, Dazai suggested to let Victoria join the ada too, which made Victoria deep in thought again…about her goals, fake ones, and the true ones.

Ranpo pov

I’ve been eating my lollipop and staring at that child, what’s she thinking? Meh, I’m lazy to figure it out. Probably shits about herself being here, but welp.(bro figured out much without even trying to)

I simply walk back to my seat and continue to eat my snacks.

No one’s pov

And then with Dazai’s whole speech, Fukuzawa just lets Dazai be in charge of Victoria’s entrance exam AND her case.(Vic did not say anything the whole time, which she also did realise it was a mistake)

And of course, Dazai cheerfully starts dragging her(she did follow) to the ada cafe. Atsushi asked about the others’ past job, and also knowing that Dazai’s one’s been a mystery that whoever guessed it right will get money(forgot how much). So when Dazai and Victoria walk in, Atsushi immediately starts guessing random jobs, which are all wrong.

Victoria pov

Atsushi goes back to his seat.

Should I… It’ll just change even more things, but who cares..? Em. Nah. Should I? To get Dazai’s extra protection, I need to do this, plus his observation skills will do the shits in the future anyway. Also for my money in Yokohama I guess…

Then I get closer to Dazai’s ear and whispers to it before Dazai goes to ask the waitress about having double suicide with him. “Ex Port Mafia executive, the Demon Prodigy to be more specific.” Dazai did not flinch or say a word, his gaze moved to my eyes for a second, it’s saying ‘you know a lot’ then simply claps his hands and says, “Vic chan guessed it!~ So the reward goes to her!~” he says with a cheerful tone, did not even look at me which was expected and runs to the waitress, damn he’s fast.

No one’s pov

Everyone’s jaw drops and Atsushi and Tanizaki ask what Victoria guessed, which she shakes her head, she doesn’t say anything since she doesn’t want to get suspected by saying ‘it’s Dazai’s privacy’(sounds like she knows a lot about Dazai’s privacy) and she wants to be seen as rather quiet, so that people won’t talk and ask her questions too much(introverted thingy).

Victoria pov

Then Kunikida interrupts Dazai from speaking to the waitress starts beating up him, to actually see my favourite character being beaten in front of my eyes is not a pleasant sight, I stare at them for a while until I heard Atsushi, Tanizaki and Naomi start to discuss about what I guessed about Dazai’s past occupation, of course, I’m a topic in their conversation now.

I don’t like it. I always don’t like being a topic in other people’s conversations, it’s annoying to hear and see and sort of scary not knowing what they’re thinking and talking about, I then look at the table, ah shit I’m showing more weaknesses ain’t I.

I look down at the table and look up, I walk near to the table where Kunikida’s beating Dazai and order a coffee, I’ve always wanted to try it. I then glare at Kunikida, he’s one of my least favourite, possible my least favourite in Dazai’s harem and their relationship with Dazai. I then walk back and sit back on my original seat silently waiting for my coffee while waiting for higuchi to arrive after seeing Tanizaki got the call, everyone stands up and I do as well.

Characters’ development, yeah.

…

No one’s pov

As Victoria expected, Higuchi Ichiyo has arrived, she sits down on the opposite side of Atsushi Nakajima and Tanizaki Juinichiro. Meanwhile Dazai, Kunikida, Naomi and me are standing. Tanizaki starts the discussion with the question ‘You’ve mentioned that you’d like to request an investigation, but what manner of investigation are we speaking of here?’, as the question’s asked, Dazai’s somehow kneeling (I mean when did he start kneeling) and requests her to have a double suicide with him, Kunikida kicks(?) smacks(?) slaps(?) Dazai away.

“Do not kick him so hard, Kunikida san. It does hurt a lot, even if/when he acts rudely, violence is not the best way of dealing with something that annoys you.” Victoria speaks, perhaps it’s because of Higuchi, Vic’s staring at her, her main anxiety focus’s not on Kunikida right now.

Victoria’s pov

I stare at Higuchi as I drink my coffee, “Please continue, my apologies if Dazai san’s actions bothered you, Miss.”

Kunikida apologised to me, which I immediately stop the urge to say that “You should apologise to Dazai”, then he walks out of the room and closes the door(the door technically was closed by gravity and wind).

Higuchi continues talking.

(Just in case you forgot about what Higuchi said, here it is: “Regarding my request… Well, it seems there’s recently been a group of unsavoury people loitering in my company building’s back alley. They appear to be dressed in rags. Some of them have been heard speaking a foreign language.)

As Higuchi finishes explaining, Kunikida opens the door and speaks, “They must be smugglers or some such”, I sigh mentally, I wonder if Kunikida would beat Dazai if Dazai were one of his students in some sort of au like ‘Kunkida becomes everyone’s teacher’… The door closes(or Kunkida closed it idk cuz it didn’t show how it was closed in the anime).

I really forgot most details in season 1, a fake case of investigating the place and finding evidence of the ‘smugglers’ running afoul the law in order to ask for military police’s help.

No one’s pov

Kunkida tells Atsushi and Victoria to go, saying it’s the perfect first job for them, then he also tells Tanizaki to go with them, and of course, Naomi goes too.

When Victoria and Atsushi are packing some tools and their stuff(?), Dazai’s head is lying on the desk and Kunkida walks to them with a photo(still wondering how they got that, probably because of Ryunosuke’s recklessness) and warns us not to run into the dangerous man, if we do, run(Ryu-).

Victoria’s pov

As much as I want to be as invisible as possible, I still need to have that ‘curiosity’ of new and unknown stuff, they can’t know that I know about their future yet.

Atsushi takes the photo. Shin Soukoku Atsushi first sees Ryu, cool.

“Who is that man?” I ask.

“A mafioso.” Dazai answers, who’s sitting on the desk with his headphones around his neck and looking at us now. “Though we call them that because we know nothing else.” What a li— Stop thinking, anyway.

“They’re a vicious mob who claims the port as their territory.” Kunkida explains, looks at Atsushi and me, “They’re called the Port Mafia.” The atmosphere turns more serious, mood changes in anime I guess. “They’re the most dangerous gang in this city’s underground. Of them, the one in this photo is a very dangerous man beyond even the Agency’s reach.”

“He has no eyebrows.” I mumble, Dazai bursts out of laughter, that was a clear message of ‘I know about the fucking future’, then Kunkida tells Dazai to shut up.

“Em… Why’s he dangerous?” Atsushi’s sorta sweating and asks.

Then later(after something that I cut off), I ask, “Who’s this man that has no eyebrows?”, again, Dazai starts laughing.

“Akutagawa.” Kunkida replies as he frowns. I cannot let my guard down now, I can feel here, that means I can feel pain, I’m not some immortal teenage so I need to see him as an enemy, for now, for now. For now for sure…

Will Ryunosuke(‘Akutagawa’ is the last name of both Ryu and Gin so I’ll type their first names) attack me in any way with Rashoumon? Speaking of which, I’ve been wearing this dumb school uniform, man, I gotta buy some new clothes after work. Maybe I’ll live with Sushi so… I suppose I need to stop singing in showers, sigh.