#or well everything's quite visible to the bare eye

[neongnistor]

23

[sysig]

VUX versions! (Patreon)

[chuluoyi]

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre/warnings: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took off his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

[godsfavdarling]

holding him

part of him (one-shot series), my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader summary: Spencer shows up at your door after a rough case. words: 1150 warnings: hurt/comfort? (idk. the day I learn to categorize stuff will become a national holiday in vera nation), no y/n!

You were at home, curled up with a book, trying to distract yourself. Spencer had been away on a case for several days. 

You knew his job was demanding and sometimes dangerous, but you couldn't help worrying about him. All you knew was it was a rough one—so rough he didn't even have time to chat with you. 

You had gotten used to his goodnight texts and phone calls each time he was away, to his reassuring presence, and now the silence was making your anxiety spike.

But he always came back. So you waited patiently trying to have good thoughts.

It was past midnight when you heard a knock on your door. You weren't expecting anyone and your heart jumped to your throat as you cautiously approached the door. 

You peered through the peephole and saw Spencer standing there, looking utterly exhausted. His hair was unwashed and his shirt pulled out of his pants. He must have just got back.

You quickly unlocked the door and pulled it open. "Spencer?" you whispered, not entirely believing he was there, standing at your front door this late.

He looked at you, eyes heavy with fatigue and something else you couldn't quite place. His clothes were slightly disheveled, and his usually neat hair was ruffled. 

“Hi. Sorry. I just got back and... I should have called maybe, but I saw a light in your window and figured you weren't sleeping yet…” His voice was soft, tinged with uncertainty.

"Spencer, what's wrong?" you asked, concern evident in your tone.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just missed you. Wanted to see you.” His words were sincere, but his eyes betrayed him.

You still looked puzzled, which made Spencer regret coming here. “Sorry. I shouldn't have come. It’s really late. I’m not gonna bother you.”

“No. Spencer, wait! You are not bothering me. You just surprised me. It's okay. I was just reading. Do you want to come inside? I missed you too,” you reassured him, opening the door wider to invite him in.

“Are you sure?” His voice wavered slightly as if he needed extra reassurance.

“Yes, I'm sure. Please,” you said, your eyes softening with understanding.

“Okay. Um… what were you reading?” he asked as he stepped inside, glancing around the familiar room.

“That book you said I would like,” you replied sheepishly, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Really? And how is it?” He raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious.

He sank into the corner of the couch, his body visibly relaxing but his eyes still holding that haunted look. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together tightly as if trying to hold himself together. 

“You were right,” you chuckled. “You’re always right.”

He then lowered his head and chuckled, avoiding your gaze.

“What?” you asked, sensing there was more to his laugh.

“Nothing,” he said, but his eyes briefly met yours before darting away again.

“Spencer, please talk to me,” you urged gently. 

You wished Spencer would talk to you more about what bothered him. You understood why he didn’t; you were the same way, always keeping things to yourself, not wanting to bother anyone. 

But there was something about Spencer that just made you tell him everything, always. You wished you could be the same for him, that he could find the same comfort and trust in you. 

You wanted to be his safe haven, the one person he could always open up to, no matter how heavy the burden.

“It’s nothing,” he insisted, but the crack in his voice was unmistakable.

“Did the case end well?” you inquired, hoping to ease him into opening up.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he said, and still wouldn't look at you, but you could see the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Spencer…” you whispered, stepping closer.

“What?” His voice was strained, barely holding back his emotions.

“You can tell me anything. Anything you want and need, you know that?”

“I know. I just… don’t want to,” he admitted, his shoulders sagging with the weight of unspoken words.

“Okay,” you replied softly, respecting his boundaries. "Can I hold you?"

He nodded and you sat down next to him and put your arm around him. 

For a while, he just sat there with your arm on his shoulder and your head resting against him. 

He was breathing deeply, and you could tell he was trying to keep whatever he was feeling under wraps, probably for your sake. 

You wished he could just tell you whatever was going on in his beautiful, big brain.

After a while, without a word, he pulled you closer into his arms. His embrace was firm, almost desperate as if he was holding onto you for dear life. 

You held him just as tightly, letting him know without words that you were there for him, no matter what.

You wrapped your arms around him, your hands rubbing soothing circles on his back. "It's okay, Spencer. I'm here," you murmured, even though you had no idea what had happened. 

You just knew he needed you right now.

Spencer buried his face in your neck, and you could feel the tension in his body. He was trembling slightly, and you tightened your hold on him. 

He somehow pulled you even closer, and you nestled against him, feeling his heart beating erratically. 

"Is it about the case?" you asked softly, not wanting to push but needing to understand what had him so shaken.

He nodded, his breath warm against your skin. "Yeah," he whispered. "I just... I didn't want to be alone."

You kissed his temple, your fingers threading through his hair. "You don't have to be. I'm here, Spencer."

He sighed, his arms tightening around you. "Thank you," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I don't want to talk about it. I just... need you."

You understood. You didn't push for details, knowing that he would share when he was ready. For now, you were content to hold him and never let go.

The two of you sat there in silence, the only sound the ticking of the clock and the occasional distant siren from the city outside. Gradually, you felt Spencer's breathing slow, his body relaxing against yours.

You shifted slightly, pulling a blanket over the two of you. "Do you want to lie down?" you asked gently.

He nodded, and you both lay down on the couch, still wrapped in each other's arms. 

You could feel the weight of his exhaustion settling in, and you stroked his hair, whispering soothing words until his breathing evened out and you knew he had fallen asleep.

As you held him, you realized how much you loved him, how much you wanted to be there for him, just as he had always been there for you. 

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and closed your eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his breathing lull you into sleep.

[yourstrulyrika]

soft sex with leon kennedy ♡

ahhh i love this man. comfort character fr.

anyway no warnings. fem!reader and lots of love praise and aftercare :3 smut below the cut! probably the longest fic i ever wrote so pls tell me if it’s actually decent. i’m not used to writing long fics

a reminder rqs are open btw :3

Leon struggles with telling you how much he loves you. He’s always been a man of few words since you knew him. does that mean he doesn’t love you? no way in hell. he loves you more than you’ll ever know.

It’s visible with the way he’s so gentle with you. When holding you, when talking to you, sleeping with you, making love with you.

Because Leon doesn’t fuck; he’s making love.

he’s so gentle, putting you on a pedestal, treating you like a queen you are. his eyes are on you as he kneels down in front of you, hands already on thighs and gently squeezing them. you swear you can see little hearts in his eyes with how in love he is with you.

“That’s it baby, so good for me. Always so pretty, the prettiest girl in the entire world.” and he’s saying this so lovingly as he takes his time with you. first, he places loving kisses all over your thighs, mumbling how much he loves you after each kiss. he finally tugs off your panties and lifts your thighs up, letting out a soft moan at the sight in front of him.

“Good girl. Love you so much, princess, can’t believe you’re mine.” with those words, he places your thighs on his shoulders, burying his face in your puffy cunt. he loves it there, loves when you close your thighs around his head. he presses light kisses on your clit, going down to finally dive in and eat you out like a starved man he is. truth be told, when he’s between your legs, he always loses himself, always in his own world with how good it feels for him. always praising you, even when it’s barely audible.

“Mm, fuck, you’re just perfect aren’t you? Sweet girl. Just sit there and let me take care of you.” he loves your taste. always spends so much time on your pussy, making you come at least two times before he even thinks of himself.

when you start trembling, he knows you’re close. he speeds up his movements, clumsily reaching out to hold your hand as his hand rests on your thigh. and then you cum — and he feels like heaven’s greeting him right now. you’re squirming, because you’re sensitive and yet he never stops eating you out; quite the opposite. he makes it a challenge to make you cum faster than the orgasm before the next one. with how sensitive you are it’s not hard — he starts fingering you, gently curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot that makes you spread and lift your legs higher.

“Could spend forever between your legs, love. Fuck, you taste too good for your own good. How can I not grow drunk on you?” all he thinks about in this moment is you, you, you — your face, your pussy, your hand tugging on his hair. he loves when you do that, loves when you use him for your pleasure.

“That’s it, angel. Jus’ use me all you want, ‘m all yours, my cock is yours, everything I own is yours. ‘m here to please you, baby, please,” he actually starts to get whiny at his own words — cock so hard it’s throbbing against his stomach but he just doesn’t want to stop until you cum again. he has to see you cum again — it’s like a blessing to him.

when you finally cum, he has this big, proud grin on his face, eyes hazy but full of love for you. you can notice just how hard he is — and yet he doesn’t care until you ask him to slide in. of course he’ll oblige, anything for his princess.

he reaches out to take your hand in his again, guiding his cock inside with the other. both of you moan at the same time, you because you feel him snug so well inside, him because he feels your gummy, warm walls already wrapping around him like a blanket. he feels like he’s about to cum right there and now, but he holds back, wanting to make you cum again.

“Fuck, you’re made for me. You’re so perfect, I love you so much. You feel so damn good.”

Leon’s not rushing it. his pace is actually pretty balanced, not wanting to overwhelm you. he peppers your neck with gentle love bites and hickeys, all the way to your chest where he sucks your nipples like his life depended on it. fondles your breast with one hand, sucking on the other one while still holding your hand. he’s searching for that spot you love so well — and when he finds it, he’s so proud of himself.

“Right there baby? Yeah? Good girl, taking me so well, this pussy was made for me.” he’s adjusting his position, arching his hips to just hit that sweet spot inside you repeatedly until he feels you squirming.

he loves being drunk on you, he loves drowning himself in you, your embrace, your scent. he loves everything about you. the way you scratch his back, dig your fingers in when you’re close — he moans so loudly at that you’re almost surprised if it wasn’t for him thrusting in you so well. you two are so close, but he cums right after you do — he wouldn’t dare cum before you.

he stays inside you for a moment, just staring into you lovingly. he presses a sweet kiss to your head, before slowly pulling out and picking you up.

“Cmon, babygirl. Did so well for me, time to take care of you.”

he carries you to the bathroom, cleans you up, makes sure you’re hydrated, well fed and clean before actually tucking you in bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest so you feel his heartbeat as you come down from your high.

[mapis-putellas]

The little things

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 1475

Warnings: None? I don’t think

Summary: Alexia had never been the short one in a relationship before, and it wasn’t until she meets you does she realise just what she’d been missing out on.

Alexia knew she was taller than the average female. Not by much, admittedly. Maybe about two or so inches. But it was still enough for her to look down more than she does up when making conversation with somebody. She doesn't mind it. To be honest she'd never really known any different.

It was the same when it came to dating. She was always the taller one. The one who always, somehow, took on all the things a man would typically do in a heterosexual relationship. Open car doors. Be the big spoon. Took charge in the bedroom. It was never forced upon her. She was never made to do it. It was just something she did instinctively because she was always the taller one.

But, then she met you. Sweet, tentative, endearing you. At the time, you'd been a barista, and Alexia had come into to order her usual coffee before training. Your first interaction had been no more than a few words and a smile, but for the rest of the day, for whatever reason, you were all she could think about.

Your eyes. Your lips. The freckles on your face and the way you'd looked up and down before growing visibly red. Whether that be because you knew who she was, or something else entirely, she didn’t quite know. Nor did she think she’d ever have the guts to ask.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she'd gone back to the coffee shop after training and asked for your number. Her English hadn't been the greatest, and she was pretty sure she'd said a few words wrong, but you hadn't hesitated to agree and hand over your phone. You'd texted for a few days before settling on a specific day when both if you; or more specifically, Alexia, were free, and you both had agreed on an ice cream date.

It was only on the day of your arranged the date did Alexia realise a significant detail she may have missed out on. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed. Or why she hadn’t noticed, but there you were, stood in front of your car, looking way too attractive for your own good. And you were taller than her.

Not overly so, but enough for her to be the one to look up when having a conversation. The car door was opened for her. The hand was placed on the small of her back, and Alexia hadn't quite know what to do with herself when you'd ended the date by pulling her into your chest and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She doesn’t remember the last time someone had done that.

Your relationship had only grown from there. Several dates were had. Gentle, tentative kisses were shared. You'd met her friends, she'd met yours, and you'd grown especially close with Mapi. In just two short months together, Alexia been roped in to going on at least three double dates with Mapi and Ingrid.

It was weird, at first. Not necessarily the double dates. But just how well you’d fit into her little circle seemingly without any issues. Everyone loved you, and Alexia was close to doing so as well.

It wasn’t long after that, that she’d found out that your love language was physical touch, and typically for midfielder, that wasn't really her thing. She got hot too quickly. Her limbs would grow numb and she'd always somehow end up with hair in her mouth.

But with you, however, she found that she really didn't quite mind. Why? Because she was almost always the one being held. There was no sweating. No hair in her mouth. No numb limbs. In fact -and if you told anyone this she'd deny it- being held was quickly becoming one of her favourite things. Especially when you'd run your fingers through her hair and rest your hand on the bare skin of her back beneath her shirt.

It's where she found herself most days after particularly rough training sessions. Such as today, which had been particularly brutal. Everything ached, and whilst she normally doesn’t mind feeling that way, today it was different.

You were rambling about anything and everything as you held her to your chest, hands absentmindedly braiding her hair before undoing it and starting again. She feels each and every breath you take, eyes blinking heavily as she fights away sleep.

"-and can believe she said that? Like, understand her point of view I guess, but I don't think it was really necessary-"

Her understanding of English wasn't exactly a hundred percent. She knows that, and you did too, meaning you were normally extra careful when speaking to her making sure you were annunciating all your words. She doesn’t mind you doing that. In fact, more often than not, she appreciates it, especially because your understanding of Spanish was…questionable. But there were times, such as these, where she was grateful when you let go off your inhibitions and rambled to your hearts content, even when she didn’t have a clue what you were saying.

"-I full told her that too, and she still didn’t believe. One day, her actions will- oh-"

She was just moments away from succumbing to dreamland when you sit up beneath her without any warning, her eyes widening as she's forced upright leaving her straddling your lap. She’s a little disoriented, prompting you to rest your hands on either of her sides to keep her steady, your eyes wide as you stare up at her.

"Did I tell you that Mapi wants another double date? This Tuesday-"

She groans and falls against your shoulder. Mapi and her big mouth.

*

"I reach it myself, amor. I do not need help." Alexia grins as she watches you make your way over, bending down slightly and looping your arms beneath her behind. Her hands cup your cheeks, and you grin against her palms as you stand upright and bring her with you. You support her weight easily, something her previous partners were never able to do.

You bounce her up slightly, feeling the way her feet hook together just below your butt, "I know," you press a fond kiss to her chest. She was wearing a white, cropped tank top today, no bra, and you’ve lost count of just how many times you’d been caught staring. "But I like holding you. Humour me, okay?"

Alexia tilts her head to the side, the frown of confusion on her face so utterly adorable you couldn't help but kiss her again. Her cheeks flush visibly at the action, prompting you to do it again, and again, and again, until she gently stops you by cupping your face. "Qué? Humour...you?" She questions, the pads of her thumbs trailing over soft skin.

"Mhh," you nod, leaning into her touch. "It means indulge me. Let me help you, anyway." You explain, and Alexia hums in understanding as she releases your face.

"Bueno. You help." She accepts, allowing you to step close enough to the cabinet so she could now, way easier than before, reach for the cup she'd intended to grab moments prior. Once it was in her hands, you don't put her down like she expects. Instead, you release her with one hand, close the cupboard door before making your way over to the counter and setting her down on top it. 

You step between her parted legs, wrapping your arms around her toned waist as hers settle around your shoulders. In this position, both of you now more or less the same height, your chest becoming flush against Alexia's as her legs hook tightly around your waist. Your hands slip beneath her white tank top to rest against bare, tanned skin, fingertips trailing over the multitude of tattoos you knew were there.

She shudders at the feeling, and you couldn't help but smile as you tighten your arms around her and press your lips against the warm skin of her neck.

"Tu eres todo para mi."

Slowly but surely, you were learning Spanish, but it was entirely more difficult than you were anticipating. Still, you were able to understand the basics. Simple phrases much like much like the one she'd just spoken. You wrack your brain to figure out the appropriate response.

"S-siento lo mismo."

By the huff of amusement that escapes Alexia's lips, it was apparent that your diction could use a lot a work.

"Cariño..." she muses softly, cupping your your cheeks and pressing her lips against your forehead. It was an action she was never normally able to due not being able to reach, so she takes advantage of it and repeats the action several more times, earning herself an adorable flush.

"My girl." You smile, leaning into the affection. You didn't think you had ever adored anyone more.

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Mesmerized.

Pairing: Yandere!Lyney x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 0.8k.

TW: Hypnosis, Unhealthy Relationships, General Lose of Autonomy, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Stalking, and Obsessive Behavior.

[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]

“You’re getting crueler, brother.”

Lynette watched you stir at the sound of her voice, nearly identical to that of your dearly beloved, but you slackened as soon as you realized it was only his sister, melting back into place against Lyney’s side. Your expression was one of vacant bliss; all glassy eyes and careless smiles, worry only visible in the dark circles laced under your eyes, the pained creases folded into either corner of your mouth. A poor imitation, altogether. You looked more like yourself when you were angry.

Lyney hummed, resting his head on your shoulder. As if trained to, you cooed softly and raised a hand, carding your fingers through his hair as he spoke, self-satisfaction heavy in his voice. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Is it cruel to want to spend time with one’s dearly cherished?”

“Father said not to let the public see them until—”

“—until we’ve fallen in love,” Lyney finished. It was a clipped summary, to say the least. In reality, Lord Arlecchino’s order had played more closely to the tune of ‘until you’ve collared your pet properly’, but admittedly, Lynette might’ve missed something. She and Freminet had been listening from the other side of a steel door, and Lyney hadn’t been eager to discuss their conversation after her lecture ended. “And I’m sure, if you bothered to ask, you’d already know that we’re quite in love. Aren’t we, beautiful?”

“Quite in love,” you parroted. There was something strange about your inflection, as if you were trying to speak in a language you hadn’t yet mastered, but Lynette chose not to dwell on it.

“And I’d hardly call this the public,” Lyney went on, when Lynette made it clear that she had yet to be impressed. He made a quick, sweeping gesture to the rest of the backstage area – as if the technicians and stage-hands rushing between lighting rigs and half-assembled props were no more real than the silhouetted figures painted onto the set dressing they were hauling into place. “Think of it as… a trial run, to see how much we’ve improved. If everything goes well tonight, perhaps we’ll be able to attend Father’s next banquet together, too. I’ve been dying to introduce them to the rest of our family – preferably without all the screaming and biting, this time.”

That, Lynette could admit, would probably be for the best. She still had a bruise in the shape of your teeth on her left wrist from the day she’d met you, but Lyney still claimed it’d been one of your better first impressions.

“I’ve always wanted to see one of your shows.” You were cupping Lyney’s face, now, using your thumb to draw tender circles into his cheek. “I’ve always loved the opera. You’re playing the male lead, right?”

Lynette pursed her lips, her eyes widening slightly as she turned her attention pointedly towards her brother. He looked away. “I’m still working out the kinks. By this time next week, it should all be right as rain.”

Reluctantly, Lynette let her attention shift back to you. Your sleeves were long, dense with lace and tulle, but a patch of reddened, raw skin where the shackle had been wrapped around your wrist was just barely visible underneath the frivolous material. There was a slight tremble in your stiff shoulders, and when she looked closely, she could see that you were swaying; your legs weak from disuse, barely able to hold your own weight. Her brother, on the other hand – she could remember the last time she’d seen him smiling so widely. He been in a state of pure, untethered euphoria since the moment you were dragged, kicking and swearing, into one of the Fatui’s lesser-used underground holding facilities, and she rarely saw him without a glint in his eye and a light flush painted over her cheeks. It was almost upsetting, to see a face so much like her own so distorted. If she hadn’t been so used to his sudden flurries of passion, she might’ve been disturbed.

“It can’t last.” Lyney straightened, but she didn’t give him a chance to cut in. “The—the trance, I mean. You’re a magician, not a hypnotist. It’s going to wear off, eventually.”

“I’ve always hated stage magic,” you muttered, dreamily. “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I hate feeling like I’m the only person who doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“It doesn’t need to last forever, just long enough.” This time, it was Lyney who caught your chin in his hand, pulling you just close enough for a quick, shallow kiss. Lynette looked away before she could be forced to endure yet another unabashed show of affection, but she could still hear him far too clearly when he spoke seconds later, his voice now nearly distant as your own.

“Until we both manage to forget how we could ever live apart.”

[poisonlove]

Strange couple | w.a

Pairing: Wednesday addams x reader

Warning: fluffy

"Hello, beauties!" I murmur with a smile plastered on my face as I walk into Wednesday and Enid's room.

I'd had a pleasant and intense morning.

Classes had been really fun and educational, I'd enjoyed the last chocolate pudding left at breakfast, found 5 dollars on the ground, scored the highest mark in Art surpassing my friend Xavier, and literally destroyed Bianca in fencing.

Despite everything, I missed my little and adorable deadly storm. I missed seeing her pitch-black eyes staring at me intensely, her sarcastic remarks, her obsession with being extremely tidy and punctual.

I missed kissing her and teasing her.

"Hi Y/N!" says Enid, full of life. "Someone's in a good mood, huh?" she adds, raising an eyebrow.

I look at my blonde friend lying on the bed with Thing and smile even more.

"Very much," I reply, chuckling.

My eyes shift to the figure on the other side of the room. Wednesday is typing her book with concentration on the typewriter. The sound of the keys furiously giving life to her thoughts fills me with pride.

She was extremely good at what she did.

"Don't you greet your girlfriend?" I ask with a small pout, trying to catch her attention.

Wednesday barely looks up from her typewriter, her face impassive and focused. "Hello, Y/N," she says in her usual calm, deep voice.

I raise an eyebrow, confused.

"Hello? Is that all you have to say?" I ask incredulously.

Meanwhile, I see Thing walk towards me and tug at the hem of my pants. "Hello, little one," I smile sweetly at Enid and Wednesday's friend, scratching his back as a greeting.

"So?" I ask Wednesday impatiently.

"Mmmh," Wednesday murmurs, still engrossed in her work. "Hi, baby," she adds automatically, probably trying to shorten the conversation as much as possible.

Thing starts gesticulating animatedly and I watch him attentively. "I know it's her writing time, but I wanted a proper greeting," I say, rolling my eyes at his comment.

Thing gestures even more quickly.

"I'm not being childish!" I mutter, offended.

I ignore Thing and see Enid barely holding back a laugh, the magazine she was reading abandoned beside her. Her expression tells me she finds the situation quite amusing.

Wednesday finally stops, lifts her gaze, and fixes me with those black eyes I adore so much. "You know my writing time is sacred, Y/N," she says calmly.

Her eyes soften, showing a glimpse of tenderness she usually hides so well. My heart skips a beat, struck by the rare expression of affection I can see behind her impassive mask. Even though her face remains serious, there's a hidden warmth in the way she looks at me.

"But I suppose I can make an exception for you," she adds, and I feel my heart swell with joy.

I smile with satisfaction, approaching her.

"That's better," I murmur as I lean down to give her a quick kiss on the lips. "Did you miss me?"Wednesday looks at me with her typical enigmatic expression.

"Maybe," she says cryptically, then returns to her typewriter.

Enid finally bursts out laughing. "You two are so cute together," she comments, shaking her head amused. "Too cute, even by Wednesday's standards," she adds with a playful singsong as she lies back on the bed and picks up the magazine again.

I approach and wrap my arms around Addams' shoulders, resting my chin on her collarbone.

Wednesday sighs loudly, visibly annoyed.

"You know, Y/N, there are better ways to spend your time," she says in a monotone voice.I chuckle softly.

"I know, but this is my favorite."

I start to annoy her romantically. I stroke her arm and leave open-mouthed kisses on her neck, feeling her skin quiver under my lips. Wednesday tries to stay focused, but I can see that my attentions are distracting her. The rhythm of the typewriter keys briefly pauses, and I notice a typo on the page.Wednesday stops, looking at the page with an annoyed expression.

"Y/N, stop," she says, trying to sound stern, but her tone betrays slight frustration mixed with resignation.

"You stop being so adorable," I whisper, continuing to kiss her neck. I feel a slight shiver run through her body, and this makes me smile even more.

Enid, from her spot on the bed, watches us with an amused smile. "You just won't let go, will you, Y/N?" she comments, shaking her head.

"You're a real nuisance," says Wednesday, trying to mask the amusement in her voice.

"But I'm your nuisance," I respond, playing with her braids.

Wednesday finally gives in, relaxing for a moment. "Yes, I suppose you are," she murmurs, barely turning her head to look at me with an expression that, despite everything, is full of affection. I smile shyly, and Wednesday leans in to give me a small kiss on the lips.

My knees go weak.

"Now leave me alone," she says in a calm and authoritative tone, fixing the mistake she had made.

I huff, but respect her request.

I start pacing back and forth along Wednesday's desk, carefully observing the objects that decorate it.

"Don't make noise," Wednesday mutters in a whisper.

My gaze lingers on a few photos of the two of us, moments captured that tell our story together. In one, we're hugging during a walk in the woods, in another, we're laughing at a school event. Next to them, there's a family photo with Gomez, Morticia, Pugsley, and Wednesday, all with their unmistakable stern looks.

Continuing to explore, I notice a necklace elegantly placed on the edge of the desk. I immediately recognize the pendant, a gift from Morticia to Wednesday, a symbol of protection and affection. The jewel reflects the light with a faint glow, emanating an aura of antiquity and mystery.

Finally, my attention is caught by a knife. The blade gleams in the light of the desk lamp, sharp and perfectly maintained. I can't help but reach out and trace the edge of the blade with my finger, feeling the cold metal against my skin. The knife is a piece of art, encrusted with intricate details on the handle, telling stories of tradition and danger.

"Careful," Wednesday's voice interrupts my thoughts. "That knife is extremely sharp."I turn to her with a mischievous smile.

"I know, but it's fascinating. Where's it from?"

"It was my grandmother's," Wednesday replies without taking her eyes off her work. "A family heirloom. She gave it to me when I turned thirteen."

"It's beautiful," I murmur, placing the knife back carefully.

Wednesday finally looks up from the typewriter, fixing me with slight curiosity. "Are you done exploring?"

"For now," I reply with a smirk.

Did I mention I love teasing her?

In a stealthy move, I grab the knife. Wednesday gives me a sideways glance as I toss it from one hand to the other with precision. She huffs, evidently irritated and gets up from her chair.

"Very funny, now give it back," she says, holding out her hand intensely.

I ignore her and smile even more.

Wednesday approached, determined to take the knife from my hands. I raised my arms, aware that my height gave me an advantage over her petite fury, and continued to provoke her. She pushed me, trying to grab the knife, but a misstep made us fall onto her bed.

“Hey,” I said with a sly smile as I looked at her straddling my legs.

An extremely compromising position.

Wednesday sighed heavily and brought her face closer to mine, making me smile even more. I closed my eyes, expecting a kiss, and sighed, feeling her hand on my cheek.

Our breaths mixed, the heat grew, but then everything faded like a dream.

I blinked in disbelief and saw Wednesday, with a satisfied expression, putting the knife back in its place.

"You two are a strange couple," Enid commented, amused.

“She played dirty,” I protested with a pout.

Wednesday returned to her seat at the typewriter.

“Soon you’ll learn all the tricks, Y/N Addams,” she said with icy calm.

“Aww,” exclaimed Enid with an adorable smile. Her eyes shone almost to the point of tears of joy at Wednesday’s words.

“Y/N Addams?” I asked, confused.

“Soon you will be, my dear,” Wednesday replied nonchalantly, returning to her writing.

For now, I chose not to ask further questions. However, deep down, I knew I couldn’t ignore this new turn in my life with Wednesday Addams at the center of it all.

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Hiding the rest of this HUGE comic behind a readmore for ur sanity

Hes got the keenest eye for these things!

Now that this is hiding behind a readmore i can justify writing an essay in here. Nothing big tho i am just very chatty :)!

Postgame where Peppino still gets visits every now and again from the bosses of the tower. I already drew one for the noise (lmao) but i wanted to draw each of the main four interacting with him in some way.

Pepperman is a refined and well renowned artist. His art is highly sought after and his advice is not taken lightly. He has many MANY fortunes to pull from to make his visions a reality and to influence anyone to do anything. Except for Peppino.

From the very first fight, Pepperman is immediately, overwhelmingly obsessed with this stout little brawler. He is much much more than what meets the eyes. He is initially extremely offput and annoyed that a human so boldly decided to waltz into his domain, and he expects to be able to steamroll and bully this…beast…out of his place of work. He is refined when he wants to be, but he is quick to use his brute strength to get what he wants if only bc he knows he can do it

And so when he decides to fully charge and thrash this little trembling human, expecting him to skitter away the second he gets struck, he is completely unprepared for when he gets launched to the other end of this room. The human looks so incredibly PISSED, like a bull seeing red, and suddenly this little altercation suddenly became a real actual ‘knock your teeth out’ brawl. This human is only like half his height, but his punches and bashes fucking knock the wind out of him.

And like ! To add insult to injury!!! After he wins the fight! He visibly deflates, the adrenaline seemingly wearing off. Hes just this trembling fuckin whelp again !!! Whimpering as he fucking runs back out through the portal to do god knows what. And Pepperman could not be any more fucking intrigued. Like this no name came in, whooped his fuckin ass, and went about his day. Its unreal

While Peppino is running around climbing the tower, Pepperman is in his room losing his mind. Hes obsessed. No one has challenged him in this way. No one has fought him and WON. He is ALWAYS able to bully people into submission either through brute force or with money, and he got his ass handed to him !! He needs to know more. Its quite literally consuming him.

Cut to the final fight, set up for a rematch; and he knows he is going to get steamrolled again but it is SO exhilarating to get another chance to see this humans form up close again. This time he can try to commit everything to memory. Its all such a blur though, and in a quarter of the time it took to end their first fight, its over. He gets to watch the human fight the gunslinger with his bare hands, no gun necessary, and he doesnt even bat an eye at what looks to be a clone of himself. He is a force of nature tearing through every single defense, and when Pepperman watches the actual final fight with the bizarre little pizza man, its like hes caught in a movie. The rain, the storm, the atmosphere. He wishes he could burn the entire scene into his mind.

So when everything returns to normal, he takes the time to travel for days to come and find this little human named Peppino. The memory is still strong and vivid but eventually, details will start to slip his mind. He needs to find this human, convince him to sit and do some still life sessions with him to help cement the humans appearance in his head. He hasnt had to resort to…asking for permission for anything in a loooong time…he bullies people into doing what he wants but Peppino is not your average person, and if he wants something from this man, he’ll have to meet him at his level.

He...can make an exception for Peppino...he supposes.

[fallatyourfeet]

No Negotiations (Thomas Shelby x Reader - One shot)

Summary: Tommy thought he had been very careful keeping his relationship with YN a secret, but no, his number one enemy had discovered you. And these things rarely playout well in the world of the Peaky Blinders.

Word count: 1807

Warnings: Quite a few F bombs and quite a bit of angst. Maybe it ends well, maybe it doesn't.

A/N: This fic was a request and it's been a long time coming. I'm so happy to finally post something again.

Gif: I don't know who this Gif belongs too, but I'd love to give credit to the creator if anyone knows.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

It was a particularly complicated time in Tommy’s life. There were a lot of different things going down. Dangerous things. And it most definitely was not a great time to be dating anyone. But YN wasn’t just ‘anyone’. To Tommy, she had very quickly and very unexpectantly, become everything. For the past year, it was YN that kept him sane during the whole fracture between his family. And with Luca Changretta still plotting his revenge against every single member of the Shelby clan, he thanked God that he had kept her completely separated from his family and business life. She was his escape. With her, his existence was simpler, uncomplicated. Cherished. Every secret second he stole by her side recharged him, settled him in ways he could never have imagined. Every night spent warming her bed gave him hours of blissful dreamless sleep. So, when he looked up from the ringside during the Goliath vs Bonnie Gold match to see her seat empty, he found himself unable to breathe.

Tommy started the night in good spirits, just happy knowing YN was there. Even if she was sitting anonymously across the opposite side of the hall, finding his thoughts already caught amongst the quiet moments he would steal away with her at the end of the night. When Arthur grew concerned of the men in Goliath’s corner, he urged him not to worry, to calm down and enjoy the match. And even when one of the men disappeared from ringside and Arthur felt the need to investigate, Tommy thought it was his older brother’s paranoia taking hold. But when Arthur didn’t return before the second man in Goliath’s corner slipped into the crowd, Tommy instantly found his stomach in knots, his eyes gravitating to YN’s seat.

It was empty.

Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe she had slipped away to the ladies. Or maybe she found herself completely disinterested in boxing and left to wait for him at their hotel room. Or maybe the growing knot in his stomach told him something much more unthinkable was taking place. Jumping from his seat, Tommy wasted no more time, easily slipping through the crowd, following the same path as Arthur.

It was unnervingly quiet walking down the passage and into the back rooms of the venue, Tommy barely registering the excitement of the crowd as it faded into the background. Only interested in the silence around him. But it was too much. Bellowing out both YN and Arthur’s name, his voice echoed and bounced off the tiled walls around him, his call answered by a gun shot. Tommy’s blood ran cold. The deafening sound vibrated through every cell in his body as if it had pierced his very flesh and Tommy couldn’t escape the hollow feeling that YN was somehow tangled in the mess.

Tommy moved desperately in and out of doorways in the direction of the gunshot, finding nothing. Until he turned the corner into a dimly lit room. But there was no mistaking what he saw, and he knew the scene before him would be forever burnt to his memory, causing him instantaneous regret. Arthur hunched over, visibly shaken as he clutched at his blood-stained neck, working hard to regain his breath. But he was alive. And beside him lay one of the men from Goliath’s corner, in a pool of his own blood, his face half blown away. But it was YN. Standing in that very same room, a room she was never supposed to be in, that had the regret burning like fire in his throat. Backed up against the cold tiled wall her whole body was trembling, arms outstretched as her hands clamped around Arthur’s pistol; knuckles white.

Tommy stepped into the room, startling her. Terrified, her trembling body swung around to face him, waving Arthur’s pistol unsteadily in his direction. All her features were overcome with fear, drained and washed out, his regret now burning bitter in his mouth. Moving towards her, he outstretched his hands, recognition dawning across her face. And when he whispered her name, she fell apart.

Simultaneously, the pistol slipped from her fingers, as her body slid down the wall, Tommy reaching her before she hit the floor, cradling her head, whispering against her ear, “It’s okay… you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Shaking his head, he found it hard to keep control of his voice, guilt ripping through his words, “I’m sorry… I’m so fucking sorry… I didn’t want this for you… I…” Tommy felt sick seeing her this way. Because of him, she had taken a man’s life, she didn’t deserve that kind of burden and there was nothing he could do to take it back.

“Tommy.” Arthur’s hoarse voice broke through his stupor. Looking across to his brother, he was no longer hunched over, but was instead standing before him, a steady stream of blood running from a gash to his neck. Speaking again, he gestured to the body on the floor, his words rough and strained, “I don’t know who the hell she is, Tommy, but he was tryin’ to drag her out the fuckin’ door.” Running blood-stained hands through his hair, he rubbed the back of his head, “I ripped her from his grip, but he fuckin’ got me Tommy, he had me… I’d be dead. She saved my fuckin’ arse.”

Tommy shuddered, not even allowing himself to think about what might have happened if Arthur didn’t reach her in time, all while he was too busy ignoring his brother’s concerns. Sudden gratitude spilled from his mouth, “Thank you, Arthur. You were right… I didn’t listen, but you were fucking right.”

Arthur crouched down, and whispered as if there were people in the room who could listen, “Who is she Tommy, and what does Changretta want with her?”

Surely the fact that he was on the ground cradling YN was explanation enough, but Tommy answered anyway, “She’s my girlfriend… I love her… that’s the all reason he needs.” And it was those words as they left his lips, that brought about an instant and upsetting decision.

Luca Changretta was no longer a threat. He had been dealt with in the most final way. Until the moment Arthur unloaded a bullet into his head, Changretta thought both Arthur and YN were dead, leaving Tommy’s exit plan for the mafia boss sailing through without a hitch. But there was still one thing left for Tommy to do. Something that tore at his insides, just thinking about it. But there was no other choice.

It was necessary.

Staring at YN’s front door, he took a deep breath, unable to put it off any longer. Lifting the iron knocker, he tapped it against the timber and cleared his throat, waiting for the sound of her footsteps and yet, hoping not to hear them. Never had he waited at her door with such trepidation, any stress or worries usually melted away the moment his eyes caught sight of her house. Always far too confident that he’d never been seen. God, he had been so fucking stupid.

YN opened the door with one of her breathtaking smiles, she was not going to make this easy. Fuck, he was going to miss those smiles. Burning the image to memory, he went to speak, but she leaned forward and planted a kiss to his lips, her sweet voice announcing, “Thomas Shelby… you’re late, you’re never late.” Tommy inhaled deeply, knowing that soon enough he wouldn’t be able to recall the sound of her voice, when what he really wanted was to wake up to it every single morning.  

Internally nodding, Tommy realised she was right, he had been putting this meeting off all afternoon, and when she stepped aside to let him come in, he found his feet cemented to her doorstep, his voice lost upon his lips. Seeing his hesitation, her features suddenly clouded with apprehension and concern. And it tore him to shreds. “What’s wrong, Tommy? What happened?” Grabbing his hand, she pulled him inside, sitting them both down in the parlour, “Tell me, what’s going on?”

Tommy didn’t want to be inside her house, he wanted to drop the news and leave, but she deserved more, so much more. Chewing on his lip, he inhaled deeply and cleared his throat, working hard to keep his voice convincing, “YN… I… I can’t be with you anymore.” YN jumped from the seat as if he’d slapped her. Tommy’s eyes shifted to the floor, concentrating on a scratch in the timber beside his foot, “It’s not safe anymore… people know who you are now… I… I’d never survive if something happened to you... I’d never forgive myself.”

“Tommy!” A few seconds of silence followed before she called his name again, “Tommy… you need to look at me!” This was not a good idea, no good could come from seeing her face, but how could he deny her? After everything she had given him over the past year. All those stolen moments and blissful memories… memories that would keep him functioning during all the lonely nights that would follow without her.

Lifting his head, he kept his gaze unfocused, worried her expression might destroy his resolve. Not that it mattered, her words and tone conveyed everything. She was furious. But she didn’t raise her voice once. “No… No Tommy.” Her comment snapped his eyes into focus and the determination he saw; on her face; in her posture, it took him by surprise.

Shifting in his seat, he couldn’t think, couldn’t stop the internal wall of his will from crumbling, with every word she spoke. “I won’t let you do this. I could die crossing the road today. I could get sick tomorrow and die next week. I could die giving birth or fall asleep and never wake up.” Drawing a breath, she shook her head, it was barely noticeable, “People die every day, Tommy, there’s nothing we can do about it, but I’m not going to let you give me up.”

Knealing down, her hands enveloped his face, demanding his attention, “I’m not going to miss out on a life with you, how ever long or short that may be… Do you not think I’m terrified of losing you too?”

Tommy shook his head, but his wall of resolve was gone, and he knew the words he spoke were no more than white noise, “My life… it’s dangerous… Just being with me is-”

Losing patience, she cut his white noise short with unyielding hands, refusing to let him look away. Her eyes were fierce. And her decision was final. There would be no negotiations. “Just shut up Tommy, stop talking. I love you. And I know you love me…. I’m not stupid, I know the risk I’m taking. But for you, I’m willing to take it.”

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 26﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Yandere Itachi Uchiha x F!Reader -> Breeding

Warnings: Dub!con, yandere themes, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of baby trapping, Stockholm syndrome, manipulative Itachi, pregnancy of breeding!kink. Itachi is still soft because yeah >\\< and fluffy if you squint

It's the ridiculously delectable way, her doe-eyed self cowers down beneath him whenever she loomed in his presence. He adores her, watching her fidget every time Itachi says something, every time he glances at her unmomentarily. She is akin to a deer, and Itachi- a lion, a ruthless, sadistic lion wanting nothing more but to tame his prey, but no- he doesn't just want to prey on her, he wants to love her. He wants her to love him, to subdue everything she can for him.

It's the way he always excuses his behavior with the sentence that chains her neck, boiling down her very core. "It's all to protect you, to keep you safe." When he addresses her as an 'Angel' she loses a little faith in god, because no angel's wings should be pinned down as hers, the way Itachi does it.

No, he does not hurt her, but he does make sure she doesn't hurt herself, sometimes confinement and solitude is the most amicable way to stem down the essence of a punishment and a lesson. Treason, if you will.

He still feels insanity grip the very nerves of his self when she approaches him, slouching as if she'd break if she stood tall. He would break her for standing tall & sniveling at him to let her go. "Hmm, maybe bestowing you with some responsibility will help, you've become quite air-headed, dear Y/N."

Oh, it desolates his perfect, controlled mind when he imagines her tiny self inflated with his seed, having trouble pacing around, needing Itachi with every little beck and call, the vulnerability which will come with her last semester, how she will struggle to hold her urine when the little Uchiha would kick and eagerly wait to see Mother and Father... how adoring.

It starts slow, after months of living together with Itachi, she knows how to read him, how Itachi's eyes glint towards the impending, she wouldn't be unjust, Itachi treats her kindly when he demands something, especially when it needs his fragile, male ego stroked and petted.

So she complies, as he spreads her apart naked, pupils visibly dilated as his gaze turns tender, more subtle. As if she'd break under him, a vile part of him wants to break her instantly. Itachi is a paradox, after all. "It's okay, my angelic little thing." You're doing so well for me. His luscious, long hair tickles her tender breasts as Itachi leans in, kissing her neck, scraping at the sensitive, irritated skin & deviously marking her up. "Oh no, don't cry, I'm going to be gentler." He dotes on her being a sensitive crybaby, can't handle his length, can't handle him.

Oh but the little being Itachi owns, is ferocious on her own, knowing most ardently she has him in her grip, "Wa-ant to go out after this." She manages to barely choke out when Itachi's member ravishes her cunt, thrusting, rutting his hips inside, churning them up to his shape. Itachi couldn't say no to that face, the future mother of his kids. "Anything... Angel."

"Will you let me fill you up?" Itachi asks though she doesn't have any choice but to, Itachi is a master, a sorcerer of illusions and to earn her goodness, to pretend she owns the decision of freedom, ever so fleeting choices that are nothing but a mirage; Itachi loves that.

She nods, biting her lip like an anxious child, the background thoughts all super setting the imagery of her being pregnant, she's too far gone now though. Stockholm Syndrome hugs her every night along with the slender arms of her lover. She wants to please him, simultaneously hating herself for the same as she nods, feeling the thrusts slow down, sloppy and then the warmth of his seed deep inside her gummy walls.

"Nothing, Angel, without you... I'm nothing."

[celesteleoves]

“YOU CAN LAUGH?”

RYOMEN SUKUNA X reader

summary: in which, sukuna rarely shows his emotions but you caught him laughing, much to his dismay.

warnings: swearing, mentions of killing (jokes made by sukuna), fluff, A LOADDDD OF DIALOGUE!!. ooc sukuna… this was not proofread.

-

“was that a laugh?” you stared at sukuna in shock, eyes wide with disbelief as the man beside you rolls his eyes.

“no, i don’t know what you are talking about.”

“you just did! ryomen, i can still see a smile on your face right now.”

he turns his head away from the tv infront of you two that blasted some hallmark movie that you two lazily put on, just to make fun of it. it was mostly you cracking jokes, sukuna calling you stupid, and you laughing at your own jokes.

until now you noticed you weren’t the only one who laughed at your jokes, you swear sukuna laughed! he can deny it all he wants but a chuckle did in fact leave his mouth.

truth be told, he never shows any happy emotions, he is always stoic or saying a remark that will leave everyone running away from him in a second.

“no. i never laugh around you, you are not that amusing.”

“don’t try and deny it ryomen, i see your eyes sparkle when you find something amusing.”

“you are incredibly delusional.”

“no- hey! you’re smiling!”

“you must be hallucinating.”

a small smile was present for a split second on sukuna’s face before he masked it with a grimace and a retort back to your comments.

“you are imagining things, y/n.”

“i saw that hint of a smirk, you can not fool me.”

“my face is incapable of such emotions, you must be tired.”

you turned in your seat to squint your eyes at him, he won’t ever admit it! if he says he laughed, it’ll hurt his pride. now, you just have to pester him and hope he laughs again.

“well, sukuna, your face needs some training because it definitely just betrayed you right now,”

“fine. i might’ve been a tad bit amused. don’t ever get used to it though.”

“too late. i’m gonna do everything in my power to make you laugh so hard you won’t be able to breathe!”

“you know what else will make it hard to breathe?”

“what?”

“me suffocating you.”

“i’d like that-”

“no.”

you grinned at him as he scowled you, man, he can be quite moody sometimes. now you’re starting to believe he can’t laugh or be nice EVER. you like a little challenge, though.

“i can make you laugh so hard you’ll snort.”

“oh yeah? snort? that’s different. go ahead, try.” he challenged you, a barely visible smirk present on his face that you ALMOST missed.

“oh, i will. just wait. don’t say i didn’t warn you when you snort!” you pause and noticed the barely visible hint of amusement on his face, “see! i can see you beginning to smile already.”

“i find you amusing but that does not mean anything.”

“oh, really sukuna? to me, it means the whole universe! you’re beautiful eyes that gleam, your smile, your perfect pearly whites, the deep chortle you let out rambunctiously; it’s the key to my heart!” you exaggerate your words, adding unnecessary points that even have you cringing at your words as you try to ignite a reaction out of him.

“trying to charm me, huh? laying it on thick aren’t you.”

“i have a way with words, you can’t resist my allure and attractiveness that spills from them.”

he stares at you in confusion and amusement, what are you even doing?

“don’t flatter yourself too much, brat. it takes a while for me to be swayed.”

“i’m aware of your stubbornness, trust me. i won’t stop though, it’s entertaining watching you struggle to hold your breathe trying not to laugh.”

“you like watching me suffocate? that’s sadistic.”

“look who’s talking now.”

“alright. you cannot get me to laugh, if you can’t tell already. give up now.”

“no! never, not until i’ve made you laugh and gained your love.”

“my love?- whatever, nice try, flirt. your charm isn’t working.”

you roll your eyes and push his shoulder teasingly, a smile already on your face as you turn away from sukuna to grab a drink.

little do you know, the man beside you is grinning secretly, letting out a quiet laugh at your previous conversation.

he also enjoyed the compliments, he won’t tell you that though.

-

a/n: this got cut short :( i was going to make it longer but it was 2:14 am when i made this. anyways, i hope it was alright and this was just a tester so i could try and see how i liked writing sukunas character!

SEND REQUESTS! 🤍

[saistappen]

Helpful friend | LN

Warnings — alcohol

In which you just wanted to help lando

or

In which rules are suddelny broken

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

The bass was literally pounding in my ears, while the floor beneath my feet seemed to vibrate more with every step I took.

The lights were dimmed and every now and then a few colorful lights flashed on for a few seconds. It smelled of sweat and alcohol.

Sweaty bodies rubbed against each other so that there was barely room to squeeze past.

My mood slowly hit rock bottom as I tried to get away with saying 'May I? ' which left my mouth in a continuous loop, squeezed past the dancing crowd.

Tonight should actually have been a good night. I was in a club in London with Lando, Aarav, Ria, Niran and Max Fewtrell.

Lando and I had been back in London for a while, where we had bumped into the part of Team Quardrant that we didn't get to see very often.

We had spent the whole afternoon filming a few challenges for the YouTube channel.

Afterwards, we had been driven here to the club, where we wanted to party a little, just like old times.

Everything had gone well at first, until a stranger spilled the contents of his sticky drink on my lap and I had to queue in the long line to the loo for about 45 minutes until I could somehow wipe the sticky liquid off my dress.

The dark stains had been clearly visible in the bright light of the toilet, despite my panicked rubbing around, unlike now in the lushly lit club. Here you could only guess at the stains.

As I squeezed past sweaty bodies and struggled to keep my mouth shut, my eyes wandered through the crowd, searching.

Hoping to get a better look at one of my friends, I stood on tiptoe, but it didn't help much.

Inwardly, I cursed myself for not having worn higher heels. But they probably wouldn't have helped me in this stupid light, which barely provided any light at all.

An annoyed sigh left my lips when I was bumped into again. My eyes closed reflexively and I waited for another sticky liquid to be poured over my body.

But nothing happened.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked into Ria's face, who was looking at me radiantly. Her lipstick was a little smudged, while her hair sat a little disheveled on her head.

Before I had rushed to the toilet queue, I had left Ria alone on the dance floor, where she had probably continued to dance extensively and wildly, as her appearance told me.

" Hey, there you are! " She shouted over the loud music and wrapped her bare arm around me so that I wouldn't get lost in the crowd again.

" I've been looking all over for you, where are the others? " I also called out to her, whereupon Ria raised her eyebrow in confusion and had to think for a few seconds about what I had just asked her.

I couldn't blame her. Ria had already had a bit of alcohol, so my best friend took a little longer to think.

" Over there! " The dark-haired girl pointed her index finger in a certain direction, where I spotted Lando and Niran.

The two of them were standing on the platform where the DJ booth was located and a DJ was just about to heat up the crowd, so a loud roar went through the crowd and I was sure I would wake up with a headache in the morning.

Of course, where else would Lando be?

My best friend had recently become quite interested in the whole DJ thing, so Lando took every opportunity to look over the shoulder of a DJ at work.

" Are you coming with me? " I asked Ria as I took my eyes off Lando and Niran. But Ria was no longer standing where she had just been, but disappeared straight back into the crowd, which literally swallowed her up.

I took a deep breath and resolved to hold my breath from time to time over the next few minutes as I made my way to the DJ booth. Because there really was nothing more disgusting than the smell of sweat.

I kept getting elbowed in the stomach or back, so that my fingernails began to dig into my palms and I had to control myself not to accidentally kick them.

What felt like an eternity later, I had fought my way to the DJ booth. I leaned my head back to look up.

However, once again there was no sign of the Formula 1 driver.

That couldn't be true. How could everyone keep getting away from me?

Once again, my eyes wandered back and forth frantically as the DJ turned the music up a little louder so that I almost had a sudden hearing loss from the large speakers not far away from me.

Grumbling, I pressed my hands firmly over my ears. I had nothing against going to a club with friends to have a bit of fun and dance the night away.

But if there was one thing I loathed more than anything, it was incredibly loud music, lots of people and the smell of sweat.

" Where are you guys? " I mumbled more or less to myself as I found an empty crate and stood on it without hesitating.

I was finally a bit taller and could clearly see over some of the heads of the dancing and drinking crowd.

From a distance, I could see Max standing at the bar with his girlfriend and Aarav and Niran dancing strangely with Ria.

But where was my best friend?

My heart automatically began to beat a little faster, while a slight fear crept up inside me.

I knew that Lando couldn't handle too much alcohol and that he often forgot when it was time for him to stop because of the so-called peer pressure.

I had already seen Lando do strange things when he was drunk.

Lando was the kind of person who was initially quite funny under the influence of alcohol, but things changed abruptly soon afterwards and the McLaren driver quickly became tired.

I had occasionally found him sleeping in the strangest places, such as in the middle of a hedge, leaning against a tree or in front of a flower store.

Suddenly, I spotted the curly-haired man from afar, pushing open the back door of the club and seemingly disappearing into the backyard.

I quickly jumped down from the crate, almost falling over, but quickly caught myself.

I had to hurry to catch up with Lando in time before the Brit could even begin to think strange thoughts.

With difficulty, I literally boxed my way through the crowd towards the back exit. With every meter I walked, I prayed to find Lando in the backyard.

Maybe he just needed some fresh air or a break from the loud music, which I couldn't blame him for.

As I pushed open the steel door, the cool night air of London came straight at me, making me shiver in my sleeveless dress.

I wrapped my arms protectively around myself as I stepped further into the dark backyard and the door slammed shut with a loud thud and the club's music could only be heard muffled.

But the bass could still be clearly felt, so my knees began to tremble slightly.

The backyard was only lit by a single lamp hanging crookedly from the wall of the house, threatening to fall out of the wall with the next bash.

" Hello? " I asked into the barely lit alleyway. To my right were two large garbage cans and countless cigarette butts. The club staff and some guests always had to disappear here to smoke.

To my left was a residential building with a few lights still on, which I couldn't blame given the volume. Although I rather wondered how anyone could voluntarily move next door to a club.

A narrow corridor between the apartment building and the club led back to the street. But the corridor was pitch black.

" Lando? " I almost whispered as I pulled my cell phone out of my small pocket and turned on the flashlight.

What I was doing here was probably a good start for a horror movie. But to be honest, I only felt the slightest hint of fear, which was probably due to my alcohol intake.

My feet slowly walked towards the corridor, which was now slightly illuminated by my flashlight and I could see a little better.

And then I discovered something.

Lando sat leaning back against the brick wall with his head in his hands.

" Lan! " I shouted, almost relieved, as I ran the last few steps towards my best friend and crouched down in front of him.

He raised his eyes and looked at me. His eyes were slightly glazed and had lost their shine, while he was quite pale around the nose.

He must have thrown up.

" There you are, " he slurred slightly as a smile spread across his lips and he wrapped his arms around me.

Surprised by this embrace, I more or less lost my balance and stumbled onto Lando's lap.

My eyes widened as Lando's mouth let out an 'oops' and he began to giggle.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks and then I began to clear my throat in embarrassment before quickly rising from his lap.

At any other time I probably would have enjoyed this, but definitely not in a drunken state.

" Are you okay? " Lando inquired anxiously as he stood up and began to sway. Another soft chuckle escaped him as he rested his hands on the wall.

" Shouldn't I ask you if you're okay? " I asked as I carefully grabbed Lando's arm to support him.

" Until just now...No..." he mumbled as he slowly put one foot in front of the other and left the dark backyard with my help.

" And now? " I asked when we had finally left the dark alley behind us and were back on the street, which was still a bit busy.

A few cars and pedestrians were still on the road at this late hour and their presence made me feel a little safer.

" Now yes! " Lando beamed. " Because... because you're here. "

Without being able to do anything about it, my stomach began to tingle slightly thanks to Lando's words.

I knew he was drunk and probably didn't even remember what he was saying, but those words still made me feel pretty warm.

" Are you taking me home? I feel sick and I'm suddenly so tired," Lando sulked and then emphasized his statement with a loud yawn.

" I'll do that, but if you feel sick, let me know straight away, okay? "

Lando nodded tiredly. Before I called us a cab, I wrote to the group of friends that Lando and I were already on our way back.

I hoped that one of them would read the message and not panic and search the whole club for us.

It took a few minutes for Lando and I to wait for the cab. While we waited, the Brit told me some weird story about gorillas and red lollipops, which I didn't even understand the context of, but it had certainly been entertaining.

Lando hadn't said a word the whole cab ride, so I assumed he had fallen asleep.

But when the cab stopped at our address, Lando was suddenly wide awake again, so the British man gave the cab driver far too much money and then jumped out of the car.

Without saying a word to the cab driver, I also jumped out of the car and ran after Lando up the driveway.

" Where is the key? " I asked as I came to a halt next to him and Lando's eyes almost fell shut again.

"Jeans," he mumbled and then lifted his arms to give me more room.

Smiling, I reached into Lando's back trouser pockets and shortly afterwards pulled out the key to unlock the front door.

" This is where I live? " Lando looked around the hallway with wide eyes after I had switched on the light and closed the door behind us.

"yes" , I smiled as I put the key in the little bowl on the sideboard and then took off my shoes and put my bag down next to it.

Lando hated it when someone entered his home wearing shoes. He couldn't understand why you could feel at home with shoes on.

But the drunken Lando didn't seem to mind, because when I told him to go upstairs, the Brit ran up the wooden stairs without taking his shoes off first.

So while Lando ran upstairs, I quickly scurried into the kitchen to fill a glass of water and get an aspirin.

Hoping that Lando had already finished brushing his teeth and was in bed, I ran up to the bedroom.

But the bed was empty.

The glass of water and the aspirin found their place on the bedside table, next to a photo of Lando, his friends and me, before I ran over to the bathroom, where the light was on and Lando was sitting on the closed toilet seat, holding two wrapped toothbrushes in his hand.

" What are you doing? " I asked carefully, but apparently not carefully enough, as the Brit flinched and pointed the pink and yellow toothbrush at me.

"Phew, I thought you were a burglar," he mumbled, which made me giggle quietly.

" What are you doing? " With a nod, I pointed to the toothbrushes Lando was holding.

" I wasn't sure if the toothbrush in the cup belonged there, so I'd better get two new ones from the cupboard there," Lando pointed with his index finger to the cupboard under the sink to make it clear to me where he had got the toothbrushes from.

I know, Lando, I said to him in my mind, because I was the one who had got the toothbrushes for him and put them in the cupboard.

"This is yours, Lan," I explained to Lando as I grabbed the orange toothbrush, moistened it with water and then put toothpaste on it before holding it in front of Lando's nose.

"Cool, orange! " he grinned as he took the toothbrush from me and began to brush his teeth in slow movements, his eyes getting smaller and smaller.

" Are you going to be okay? " I asked him with a grin after I had put the packed toothbrushes away again and watched him for a few seconds.

" Brushing your teeth is sooo tiring. Has it always been? " he mumbled with the toothbrush in his mouth, causing a few blobs to drip onto his black shirt.

" Sometimes it's annoying, yes. Come on, I'll help you so it goes faster. "

I squatted slightly in front of Lando and started to help him brush his teeth. I had the feeling that I was looking at a small child and not a 24-year-old man.

After we had successfully brushed his teeth, I followed Lando over to the adjoining bedroom, where the Brit was already slipping out of his clothes.

By now he was hardly swaying, so I was sure that the alcohol was slowly disappearing from his body.

When Lando stood in front of me shortly afterwards in just his boxer shorts and I saw his muscular chest in the dim light produced by the bedside lamp, I almost fainted.

It would be a lie if I said that I hadn't had my eye on my best friend and found him attractive, because he really was.

However, there was a certain rule in our circle of friends that made it impossible for me to fall in love with my best friend, even though it was somehow way too late.

" Ohh, I forgot," Lando mumbled as he reached for the hem of his boxer shorts and tried to take them off too.

" Stop, stop! " I exclaimed in near panic as I pressed my hands over my eyes to avoid seeing my best friend naked, even though I would have loved the view at another time.

" Huh? " Lando asked, and without having to look at him, I knew that he was now standing there with a totally confused face and furrowed eyebrows.

" They stay on. " I slowly released my hands from my eyes again and was pleased to see that Lando was still wearing his boxers.

The dark-haired man nodded sympathetically.

I pulled a pair of sweatpants and a shirt out of his closet, both of which he was supposed to wear to sleep.

The Brit, however, dropped his butt onto the bed and stretched tiredly while he made no effort to get dressed.

So I had not only brushed my best friend's teeth, but also helped him into his clothes.

"You're the best," Lando mumbled as he finally slipped under the light-colored comforter and adjusted the pillow a little.

" Is there anything else I can do for you? " I asked after picking up his clothes, which were scattered randomly on the floor.

" If I asked you if you would stay, would you? " The gleam in Lando's eyes slowly returned, while a smile spread across his lips.

His question almost made the clothes I had picked up fall out of my hands again.

My heart skipped a beat as my hands began to play nervously with the fabric of Lando's shirt.

This had all gone a bit beyond our previous friendly boundaries. But sleeping in a bed with him would go completely beyond the scope, wouldn't it?

I couldn't just give in to Lando's drunken state because my heart in love wanted to scream yes out loud.

" Please ", he almost begged, while I still didn't move and almost clutched his clothes tightly. " You can wear something of mine to sleep in too. "

This sentence didn't make Lando's request any easier, because the butterflies woke up in my stomach, flapping their wings gently back and forth in my belly and my cheeks became slightly warm.

" U-uh...uhm you know that's against the rules? " I asked in a squeaky voice.

God, why were the rules suddenly so important to me?

" But there's no one here who made the rules. So no one needs to know about this, right? After all, I've always been against the rule that you can't date anyone from your circle of friends. "

Another grin formed on Lando's lips as he slowly pulled back the comforter and stood up.

A few steps later, the Brit stood in front of me.

"Besides, it's already too late for that rule anyway," he breathed more or less into my ear, causing goose bumps to spread all over my body.

And before I could even begin to open my mouth to say something back, Lando walked over to his closet and a short time later pushed some clothes towards me.

" I won't take no for an answer, because I know you feel the same way. "

With these words, Lando pushed me into the bathroom and before he closed the door, he winked at me.

And so he left me with an explosion of emotion.

I didn't know how long it had taken me to collect myself and then leave the bathroom changed.

All my emotions had gone so crazy with Lando's words that even after the long time I had spent in the bathroom, I walked back to the bed with trembling knees.

Lando was still awake. He lay covered up in bed and began to look me up and down with a grin as I scurried over to the free side of the bed.

My cheeks turned red again, so I quickly pulled the comforter over me and started tugging at the hem of Lando's shirt, which I was wearing, from under the comforter.

There was quite a big gap between Lando and me, which the Brit didn't seem to like.

He quickly wrapped his right arm around me and pulled me so close to him that my head automatically rested on his chest.

And so I could hear his rapidly beating heart.

" Do you hear how fast it beats? It always has since you've been around me," he more or less breathed to me as he wrapped his arms protectively around me and I felt a gentle kiss wash over my hair.

Damn, what was he doing to me?

My cheeks heated up again and my heart began to beat faster. Our hearts were probably fighting to see whose heart beat faster.

" Lando ", I whispered into the darkness a few minutes later, but it was too late.

The Brit had already returned to the land of dreams and left me alone with my rapidly beating heart and my thoughts.

And I hoped that he wouldn't regret this when he woke up tomorrow.

[angelicyoongie]

lovesick (XIV)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 5.8k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, other content that may be triggering. — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.

Previous - Next

"Darling."

You glance up at Namjoon, abandoning the half-finished scarf you've been slowly unraveling for the last hour. He stands at the foot of the couch, glasses slipping down his nose as he struggles to hold on to all of the books piled up in his arms.

You jump out of your seat to help him, grabbing half of the stack to place it on the table next to you with a small huff.

The books are thick and heavy, and you doubt that any of the volumes are under five hundred pages. Most of the spines in Namjoon's arms look old and weathered, like their proper place should be under a glass case in a museum instead of a library.

Namjoon breathes out a sigh of relief as he carefully deposits the rest of the books next to the others. He nudges his glasses back in place with a small chuckle as he says, "I must be getting out of shape, I don't remember them being this heavy."

"I doubt it," You mutter, sneaking a quick look at how visible Namjoon's muscles are even under his thick sweater. 

"What did you say, darling? I didn't catch it," Namjoon gives you a curious look. 

"Ah, it's nothing!" You flash him a quick smile, swiftly shifting your focus back to the table. 

Namjoon furrows his brows at the way you suddenly avert your eyes, the tops of your cheeks growing warm. He glances down at his sweater, worried that he might have missed a stain. There's nothing that looks out of the ordinary, but Namjoon still dusts off the bright red wool for good measure, a little perplexed by the strange look you were giving him. 

"I brought the books you asked for, this is everything we had on soulmates and soulbonds," Namjoon clears his throat. He steps closer to the table, picking up a few of the books before he starts sorting them into smaller piles, "These are the most recent publications and the ones furthest to the right are the oldest ones. I found a couple down in the archives too. They're not supposed to leave the library since they're so old but, well, I'm sure no one would mind a little exception. I know you'll take good care of them." 

"I'll be careful," You nod, brushing a finger over the spine of what looks to be the oldest book. 

"Good," Namjoon flashes you a warm grin, his dimples on show. He reaches out to stroke your hair, tucking a lock behind your ears as he gently says, "I hope they can be a nice distraction for you. I know you've been feeling down since you talked to Heejun."

"Thank you," You give him a tight smile, refusing to comment on it. You know it annoys them that you're not willing to open up more, that you don't want to talk about your emotions, but what's the use in bringing up something they won't understand? They are the ones making you sad, not Heejun. 

It's been a week since you last spoke to him, and your heart still aches from it. Hearing his voice felt like splitting open a barely closed wound. You can't shake off how mournful he sounded when he said his goodbyes, like he knew you wouldn't be able to contact him again for quite some time. It has left you feeling unsettled. And, since your days are filled with nothing; you have more than enough time to think, think, and think some more. You sometimes wonder if cabin fever will take you out before the soulbond does. 

It feels like time barely passes here and yet you know that the sun rises and sets, that the minutes are steadily ticking away even if you feel frozen. Using your phone finally gave you an opportunity to pinpoint the date. The day you talked to Heejun was December 11th and now that one week has already passed, there are only seven days left until Christmas. It's odd to think back to how you celebrated the holidays last year, and how different your life was then. You knew of your soulmates but you didn't know them. You were scared but you were free. 

You shake yourself loose from your thoughts as Namjoon presses a soft kiss to your cheek, catching the tail end of his sentence as he says, "– for you, just call for me if you need any help, darling." 

"Great, I'll do that," You say. Namjoon doesn't seem to have noticed your wavering attention. 

You can only assume he mentioned he would leave you to read in peace, as he gives you another warm smile before he straightens up and exits the room. You hear him greet Hoseok in the kitchen, their voices just distant enough that you can't pick up on what they're talking about. 

Taking a deep breath, you try to empty your mind to focus on the task at hand. You did ask Namjoon for these books for a reason, so you must utilize the time you have. Namjoon seems to have borrowed the entire section the library has on soulmate-related books, so it's only a matter of time before someone comes asking for them.

You decide you might as well begin with the newer books first, they should hopefully contain all the information and studies that have been done on the bond over the last three hundred years or so. You grab one that looks somewhat familiar to you, a newer edition of a volume you're sure you did a paper on back in middle school. Skimming through it, you quickly skip to the section that talks more in-depth about bonds. You already know all of the basics, the history, the tale of the first two soulmates – it's practically ingrained into you from birth. What you need is something different, something uncommon in the sea of familiar facts. 

You're disappointed when you realize that the book barely touches upon soulbonds with more than two people. Having two or more soulmates isn't that uncommon but it's also not the norm. The most you've ever heard of was a group of five soulmates and they were treated as a media spectacle from the moment they announced it. You remember the headlines reading along the lines of rare, strange and unprecedented – so you can only imagine that if there are more groups like them out there, they're keeping quiet about it. The soulmates that did choose to step forward about their bond were insistent that it was the same as a bond between two people; they all loved each other and their connection was equally as strong for every soulmate. Their situation was clearly very different from yours. 

You close the book with a huff, moving on to the next one. There's a brief mention that soulbonds with more than two soulmates require a bit more work, but that's all. It's barely enough to fill a sentence. Your frustration only grows with every book you look through, it's just the same information regurgitated over and over. You know there's something out there though, the story Namjoon told you shortly after you had woken up at the cabin must come from somewhere. Namjoon might have found the excerpt online but you do recall that it was supposedly from an old and rather obscure book.

Your gaze drifts over to the book that looks like it's falling apart at the seams, the etching on the cover so old that the letters have been lost to time. You find yourself holding your breath as you gingerly pick it out of the pile, wincing as you feel the pages shift within the book. There's a small note attached to the front of it, one that reads: NO PUBLIC ACCESS. For a split second it makes you pause, thoughts that it might actually be a valuable book crossing your mind, but you quickly disregard them. If this book was important, it would've never been left to rot in the library archive. 

Carefully placing it in front of you, you open the front of the book slowly, mindful to prop it up with your hand so that you're not causing too much tension to the spine. The insides look as tattered as the front, the title page barely legible. The font is cursive and swooping, the letters blending together so well it's hard to make out much of it. In the end, all you can decipher is that it says soulmates and that it was written in the year 1783.

You turn the page, squinting at the faded words. The layout of it reminds you more of a diary than a book, with random dates placed before every entry. They explain how the author decided to travel around to gather stories about soulmates, soulbonds and the people they met along the way. After some twenty-odd pages, you finally come across what looks to be a table of contents. Tracing your finger down the side, you halt as you make out the words nucleus bonds.

Bingo.

You feel your pulse kick up a beat as you flip to the correct page. The title reads 'Highly unusual cases of soulbonds and soulmates' and you can tell from the first sentence that this must be the excerpt Namjoon had found online. 

It describes just what Namjoon talked about; that while there's always a risk of one soulmate feeling the bond more intensely than the other, the probability of it happening is heightened the bigger the bond is. Skewed bonds are typically seen in groups of four or more soulmates, as it is likely that one soulmate in particular becomes the nucleus of the bond – the center that holds it all together. The book goes on to mention examples, old cases of nucleus bonds you've never heard of. They seem more like fables than true stories, all of them more fantastical than the last, but it does seem that Namjoon was right. In the olden days, nucleus bonds were viewed as a gift bestowed upon them from the heavens. That the ones that found themselves experiencing it were special – powerful. 

"What a fucking joke," You sigh.

The only thing this bond has made you feel is helpless. 

There's a small paragraph at the end of the page, one you suspect wasn't included on the digital scan Namjoon found.

While powerful, nucleus bonds can quickly go awry if the proper precautions are not taken to ensure the bond's well-being. For ill effects of the bond, please see the entry on Lovesickness.

You feel your mouth go dry, a heavy pit settling in your stomach. This must be it. You can't help the slight tremble to your fingers as you flip to the correct page, unease and excitement blending into a confusing feeling. You desperately want to know what's going on, if there's something that's causing the boys to act the way that they are, but the title worries you. Not all illnesses can be cured. You've survived on the small hope that you might be able to help them but if that gets taken away, what will you have left?

You chew on the inside of your cheek, nervous, as you land on the right entry. 

// Lovesickness Lovesickness, or soul sickness, occurs when the bond between two or more soulmates is neglected. This illness has only been recorded in bonds with a nucleus soulmate and is thus regarded as a prominent ill effect. While skewed bonds may occur in any soulbond, it is even more likely to do so in instances where one soulmate is viewed as the nucleus. It is a dangerous soulbond, as it makes the other soulmates unstable and there is an especially high risk that they will crave closeness with the nucleus to make up for the weakened connection to the rest of their soul-group. The other soulmates or "the outsiders", are known to grow irrational, obsessive, angry, highly emotional, and in some extreme cases, they can even be influenced by other outsiders' emotions despite their weakened bond. After first contact is made, it is imperative that the affected soulmates spend time together to minimize the risk of soul sickness. Failing to do so will have grave consequences. //

"Oh gods," You whisper, staring at the book in mild horror. 

If what the book is saying is correct, then that means that everything that has happened over the last year isn't completely their fault. 

The soulbond must have started slowly poisoning their minds ever since they met years ago. They didn't even know they were soulmates back then, not until that night in Hoseok's shop, so you can't imagine they have been able to nurture the bond properly. Their connection was so weak they probably mistook it as simply wanting to become friends and even though you know they're all close, you also know that their schedules are so conflicting that it's impossible for all of them to hang out as much as they should have. The bond was practically doomed even before they met you. 

It makes sense that they all came together before you did, that perhaps there was a part of them that couldn't seek the nucleus out before they had collected the rest of the group. The sickness must've become even worse once they did find you – festering and growing stronger the longer they tried to stay away. You wonder if it was the bond that made them keep their distance back then. If their souls recognized that your connection to them was weaker than it was supposed to be, maybe that's part of what made them so scared to approach you. Regardless, it had likely reached a critical point when they decided to kidnap you, their souls so affected, so warped, by the illness that they had no other choice. 

All of this – everything that has happened – has been out of their control. How were they supposed to fight an illness they didn't know they had? 

You cover your face with both hands, muffling your choked breaths. You feel lost in a way you haven't before. Their actions are still not excused, you can't find it in yourself to forgive them for all the hurt and trauma they've caused you. But you can understand why they ended up going down the path they did now, because, well, it turns out they didn't have much of a choice at all.

There's no right answer here and you're finding yourself at a loss of what to do. You doubt that telling them about it will change anything, not when they're this far gone already. They'll probably just look at it as you trying to distance yourself from them again. 

You drag your fingers down your face with a low groan, glancing down at the book. The entry on lovesickness doesn't go past the page and you can't find any additional information that describes what you should do if something like this has already occurred; just that it's important to make sure that the bond doesn't get messed up in the first place. With the book being so old, well over two hundred years, it's not like you can reach out to the author for help either. But there must be something you can do.  

Thrumming your fingers against the table, you shift your focus towards the kitchen, to the soft sound of Hoseok's laughter. Now that you think about it, the boys have become more trusting, more mellow, over the past months. They have started leaving you alone for longer periods of time and they have calmed down significantly compared to when they first brought you here. Perhaps.. If your distance is what worsened their illness, maybe this – being close – is what is going to cure them? You doubt it can ever bring them back to normal, whatever that may be, but it could help stabilize them. 

If you try, really try, to accept them for what they are now and return their affection, it might help the bond settle faster. 

You give yourself a weak nod, closing the book as you push yourself up on your feet. You don't like thinking about affection, love, as just a means to an end, but it's not like the situation you're in is normal. You're willing to do anything if it'll get you out of here, and in the end, you're doing this to help both yourself and them. You might have tried to deny it this whole time but it doesn't change the fact that they're still your soulmates. As awful as it is, you have some responsibility over them too. 

You ignore the queasy feeling lingering in your stomach, shaking out your limbs before you muster up the most genuine smile you can. You just have to try. 

"Hey guys," You call out, crossing the common room to go join Hoseok and Namjoon in the kitchen, "What are you up to?"

Soft sunlight streams in through the windows, warming your feet just so as you stand in one of the illuminated patches on the floor. There's activity from every corner of the cabin, Sundays being the only day all of them are able to gather at the same time. It's been four days since you realized just how messed up your bond is and you've been trying your best to stop pushing the boys away since then.

You look wistfully out of the window, the white snow sparkling under the sun. You haven't really been much outside since you tried to escape, their trust in you is too broken to allow you to. The most you've done is stand on top of the stairs with the door open; Namjoon waiting a few steps down in case you should be stupid enough to try to run, and Seokjin behind you, holding on to one of your hands.

You miss being able to walk around and move your body more, and you truly are beginning to go a little stir-crazy. 

"Hi baby," Jimin croons as he wraps his arms around your waist, gluing himself against your back, "What are you thinking about?" 

You lean into Jimin's hold, your heart quickening at the kiss he plants at the back of your neck. You let out a small sigh as you confess, "I'm bored." 

"Bored, hm? Anything in particular you'd like to do? I can think of a few ways to waste time." 

You can hear the smirk in Jimin's voice, heat rising to your cheeks as you remember the night you spent together.

"Actually–" You pause, bracing yourself for a negative reaction before you say, "I'd like to do something outside today. The weather is so nice." 

Jimin's arms tighten around you like a snake, so tense you worry they might pop right off his body. "Outside?" He echoes. 

"What's outside?" Hoseok seems to have abandoned whatever he was doing earlier in his room, his sudden appearance startling you slightly. 

"Y/n was just telling me that she's bored and that she wants to do something. Outside," Jimin fills him in, voice void of any emotion. 

Hoseok is silent as he walks across the room, meeting your gaze with raised eyebrows as you turn to look at him. He doesn't look away until he's standing next to you and Jimin, his eyes briefly flickering down to the death grip the younger has on you before they fly back to your face. "Why would you want that, sunshine?" 

It's not an immediate no – so you jump on the chance to play it up a little and use it to your advantage. 

"I just want to hang out with you guys outside, maybe do something fun. I just thought it would be nice to do something, you know, together," You pout. The sparkling snow in your peripheral gives you an idea. "Maybe a snowball fight?" 

Hoseok shares a look with Jimin over your shoulder, one that's long enough to almost make you nervous. Jimin eventually relaxes when Hoseok gives him a nod. It's hard to tell what's going through his head but surprisingly, Hoseok doesn't seem too put off by the idea. Maybe they really have begun to trust you again, or maybe this is just another test. Either way, it's something you can make use of. 

Hoseok reaches out to touch your cheek, his lips curving into a heart-shaped smile as he says, "That sounds like a good idea, sunshine. I'll go ask the others if they want to join."

"I call dibs on being on Y/n's team," Jimin says, smug. 

Hoseok's smile grows a little more dangerous as he moves his attention back to Jimin, "We'll see about that, Jiminie." 

You grunt as Seokjin tugs firmly on your jacket, sending you a step forward.

You're wearing so many layers you can barely move, all of them too big. The boys took great joy in dressing you up in their winter clothes, as nothing you have at the cabin is fit for withstanding the cold. You're glad you don't have to freeze, but the fact that everything you're wearing is too big doesn't evade you. They must still be worried about you trying to run away if they're trying to impede your ability to move.

You know not to make a fuss about it though, it's better to just go along with their whims when it's something so harmless. 

"Watch your chin," Seokjin warns before he drags the zipper up, sealing you in. 

"Thanks," You say, nodding for good measure. Your voice is so muffled behind Jungkook's thick scarf that you can barely hear your own voice. 

Seokjin flashes you a grin, gesturing to the door. "Go on then, sweetheart. You're going to overheat if you stay inside here for too long." 

You waddle over to the door, practically dragging your feet with how heavy the boots you borrowed from Namjoon are. You can hear the others talking outside, only Seokjin left behind as he volunteered to help you get everything on. You're admittedly glad you didn't just brush him off because there's no way you would be able to bend down with how thick your jacket and snow pants are. 

A burst of biting cold air hits you as you open the door. It takes you a moment to get used to the temperature difference but once you do, you shuffle down the stairs as quickly as you can manage. Hearing the snow crunch under your boots and feeling the sun warm the little skin you have exposed makes your heart swell. You finally feel alive again. 

"Y/n, there you are!" Taehyung throws the half-formed snowball in his hands to the ground, waving you over to where the rest of them are busy shoveling snow. The boys have already managed to clear a decent-sized patch, patting the shoveled snow into two barriers on the opposite sides of the cleared ground. Jungkook and Yoongi have even had time to start making two piles of snowballs, stacking up a good amount of them. 

Taehyung is sporting a wide smile by the time you make it over, his eyes twinkling as he opens his mouth.

"Don't say anything," You cut him off, huffing from the restrictive layers. Taehyung holds up his hands in surrender, chuckling as you try (and fail) to cross your arms. 

"I wasn't going to," He looks you up and down once, biting down on his lip to stifle his laughter. "But if I was, I'd say you look like a cute marshmallow." 

You groan. "This is way too much! I can barely move." 

"It's just to keep you warm, babe. We don't want you getting sick," Taehyung bops your nose with his glove. "Your team will cover you during the fight anyway, you won't have to move around too much." 

"Fine, if you say so," You murmur, not entirely convinced. You know all of the boys, especially Jungkook, have a competitive streak, so you doubt it's going to be as easy as Taehyung makes it seem.

"Seokjin hyung!" Taehyung calls out as he looks over your shoulder, "Hurry up! We need to divide the teams!"

It's quickly decided that the best way to do so is by playing Rock-Paper-Scissors. It takes a few rounds to get it right but in the end, you're teamed up with Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon, while the other four make up the opposing team. 

"My poor angel, I can't believe she's been doomed to be on the losing team," Jimin sighs, all dramatic. He shoots Seokjin a teasing smile, like he just knows his hyung won't be able to resist rising to the bait. 

"Losing team?!" Seokjin exclaims, just as predicted, poking his finger into Jimin's chest, "How are you expecting to win? You and Yoongi are too short to even look over the barrier!" 

"Hey! Don't drag me into this," Yoongi pouts, swatting Seokjin's hand away from Jimin. "Let's just start the game. Namjoon, what are the rules?" 

Namjoon claps his hands together, gathering everyone's attention. "Alright, so the rules are very simple. You're allowed to run up to the line that goes through the middle of the cleared area. That means that some of the trees around here can be used for cover as long as you don't cross the line. If you're hit, you're out and have to wait off to the side for the game to end. One team wins when all the players on the opposite team are eliminated. Yoongi hyung and Jungkook have already made a pile of snowballs for each team, but we'll get exactly one minute before the game starts to make as many additional ones as possible."

"Everyone got it?" He asks, looking around the group. You all chime out yes, watching as Namjoon pulls out his phone and sets the timer to 60 seconds.

"Okay, as soon as I hit this, the game starts! Three, two, one– Go!"

You hurry as best you can over to the closest barrier, letting Hoseok drag you along to give you some extra speed. He helps you kneel once you reach it, looking over at Seokjin and Namjoon as he asks, "Okay, so what's our plan? We can't let sunshine get hit." 

"They have Jungkook, so they're going to go in for an intense attack right away. I think our best bet is to just wait until they start slowing down and then attack back. Jimin is probably going to try to sneak closer to the line once it dies down from their side, so let's try to take him out quickly," Namjoon says, keeping his voice low enough that it won't carry over to the other team.

"Sounds good," Seokjin hums. He hastily forms another snowball, adding it to the growing pile beside you. 

"I think you better try to stay out of the way as much as possible, darling, they can get pretty brutal," Namjoon adds, shooting you a worried look.

"That's probably for the best," You agree, slumping further down behind the barrier. There's no way you'll be able to play when you're this bundled up, you doubt you'll be able to duck in time if you even attempt to throw a snowball. 

"Okay, then–" Namjoon's eyes go wide as the alarm on his phone rings out into the near quiet forest. He mutters a curse as he ducks down the best he can, fumbling to turn it off.

The moment it goes silent, mayhem breaks loose. Snowballs start raining down immediately, hitting the barrier with dull thuds. You squeak as one lands right in front of your knees, nearly hitting you. You quickly shuffle to the side, practically crawling, as you hear the other team yell and taunt yours to fight back. 

Just as the attack begins to wind down, Namjoon gestures for the rest of you to lay low while he peeks over the edge.

He's hit in the shoulder before you can even blink, a burst of snow raining down on the rest of the team. Namjoon flashes you all a dumbfounded look as he stumbles back, reaching up to dust off the lingering snow as someone calls out 'You're out!' from the other side.

"They mean business," Namjoon mumbles, shaking his head as he hands his snowball over to Seokjin. 

"We'll get revenge for you, Joonie," Hoseok's expression is somber, a little too serious for a snowball fight. 

"They always get a little too into it, don't mind them," Seokjin whispers, pulling a face.

The moment Namjoon has safely left the area, the fight picks back up, Hoseok and Seokjin joining in on it. It doesn't take long before you hear an indignant cry coming from the other team, Seokjin yelling out a cheer at the direct hit he landed on Jimin. 

You feel like a sitting duck behind the barrier, unable to help your team with how tightly you're bundled up. With the boys still distracted by the ongoing fight, you quickly unzip your jacket in your crouched position, throwing it to the side. Thanks to Seokjin going a little overboard with dressing you up, you already had another jacket underneath to keep you warm. You smile, already feeling a little lighter. 

"Keep going, I'll cover your left," You murmur to Hoseok as you crawl behind him, your sight set on one of the closest trees. You ignore him as he hisses out your name, clearly confused as to why you're moving away from the barrier that's protecting you. 

There's a decent gap between the edge of the barrier and the nearest tree, so you'll have to make a run for it and hope that you manage to catch the others off-guard enough that they won't be able to hit you. You take a deep breath as you bring yourself up to a crouch, placing your hands on the snow for extra support. You shoot off as fast as you can but the big snow pants slow you down significantly, almost reducing your speed to a leisurely stroll. You barely manage to duck behind the first tree, taking cover, when you hear a snowball explode against it. 

"How could you aim for your soulmate?!" You hear Hoseok yell out. 

"Uhm, all is fair in love and war?" Taehyung sheepishly calls back. 

You huff, collecting yourself for a minute before you dare to peek around the tree. The coast seems to be clear, neither Jungkook nor Taehyung is looking your way. You can't spot Yoongi, so you can only assume he's ducked behind the barrier, making more snowballs to keep up with the tempo the two youngest are throwing them at. 

It's now or never.

You use the tree to give yourself a needed push forward, running towards the much larger one that's square in the middle of the cleared area. You're so focused on making it there without getting hit from the side that it takes you a second too long to realize that someone is coming full speed right at you. You barely manage to slow down before you crash right into Yoongi, the two of you stumbling into each other. Yoongi grabs your waist to steady you just as you reach out for his shoulders, your eyes locked in surprise. 

"You scared me," Yoongi wheezes, pulling you tighter against him as another snowball smacks into the tree. 

"Sorry," You puff, "You caught me off-guard too." 

You're both panting from the tiresome terrain, your breaths swirling up towards the sun. Yoongi's cheeks are rosy from the cold, the tip of his nose colored a precious pink. He looks so cute that you almost don't know what to do with yourself.

Your gloved hands find their way from Yoongi's shoulders to his cheeks, cupping them as you ask, "Are you cold?" 

"I-" Yoongi doesn't get the chance to reply before you hear Taehyung get hit, a chorus of groans and cheers sounding from the other side of the tree.

If Taehyung is out, that means that only Yoongi and Jungkook are left. You might not have been able to do much until now, but you'd be damned if you can't at least help take Yoongi out. It might be time to play dirty, even if what you're about to do makes you feel a little bad.

You swoop in to kiss Yoongi the moment you hear Taehyung being greeted by Jimin and Namjoon, pressing your cold lips to his in a chaste kiss. You feel him going pliant in your hands as your heart begins to race, your body burning hot despite the cold.

Yoongi has a starstruck look in his eyes when you lean back, one that quickly morphs into confusion as you yell out Hoseok's name before you duck. A snowball hits Yoongi square in the chest a second later, forcing him to take a step back. 

"You– Seriously?" Yoongi shoots you a betrayed look as you get back to your feet. 

"I'm sorry," You flash him an apologetic smile as you brush the snow away. "I think all of the competitiveness might have rubbed off on me."

"Please forgive me?" You murmur, planting another kiss on his lips, one that lingers a little longer. 

"You're gonna be the death of me," Yoongi groans, shaking his head at the bright smile he gets in response. "Hurry back to your team, Y/n, you haven't won yet." 

Jungkook might be a great player, but he's no match for 3 against 1. It barely takes a minute from the moment Yoongi joins the sidelines until Hoseok lands a hit on him, finally eliminating the entire opposing team. Jungkook looks stunned that he actually got hit, eyes wide as he touches his stomach. Jimin and Taehyung groan in unison, immediately beginning to bicker about what went wrong. 

"Loser team my ass, Park Jimin!" Seokjin points to the sidelines with a wide grin, laughing as Jimin flips him off. 

Hoseok wraps you up in a hug, swaying you from side to side as he laughs. 

"We did it!" You squeal, wrapped up in a burst of happiness as Namjoon comes running over, the entire team huddling together as you celebrate your win. 

"Well done, angel, I didn't know you were so sneaky," Seokjin chuckles, kissing your cheek. 

"I think we might have found our secret weapon," Hoseok agrees, eying you fondly as he ruffles your hair. 

You look over to the other team as you attempt to duck away from Hoseok's hand, your smile growing bigger as you notice the other boys laughing and joking around too. Jungkook seems to be mimicking Yoongi throwing a snowball that didn't go very far, causing Jimin to laugh so hard that he falls over. 

Your heart swells at the scene, at finally seeing all of the boys act normal and happy. Maybe you actually can do this. Maybe it's not too late after all. 

"Come on, let's bring it in!" Namjoon grins, grabbing your hand.

As you all jump around in a circle, arms tangled together and spirits high; all you can think of is that it feels nice – special, even – like something you could get used to. 

a/n: what do we think about the new information the mc found – will it change anything?? and i hope you enjoyed some domestic time spent with the soulmates! (enjoy the good vibes while they last friends <3) i know i promised taegi last time but that has been pushed back to ch 15, so apologies for that, buuut you'll get taegi and namkook smut in one ch so i think that's a good deal, no? 🙈

please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter!! it means so much to me 💖 especially now that we're nearing the end of the story 🥺

(and you know the drill, please excuse any mistakes until i have time to go through and edit!)

[rileyslibrary]

What a lovely way to burn

Summary: You’re cold. He is warm. As you argue over the room's temperature, Ghost discovers the root cause for your different perspectives.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 697

Notes:

A little bird told me you like beefy masked men looking after you.

It’s fluff; what did you expect.

Want more?

———————————————————————

“It’s freezing in here,” you murmur under your breath as you clear the clutter from your desk. You look at the radiator, then drift your gaze towards Ghost. He’s sitting at his desk, filling out paperwork for the mission you’re currently assigned to. 

“Would you mind turning that thing on, please?” you ask, nodding at something behind him. 

He looks at you, then over his shoulder, towards ‘the thing’ you’re referring to. “Are you kidding me?” he asks baffled, “it’s boiling in here!” 

You examine him from the head up to his waist. His eyes are his only visible part; everything else is hidden beneath layers of thick, nearly indestructible clothing. 

“Have you looked at yourself, Lieutenant?” you ask, pointing at him, “you’re dressed for an arctic expedition!”

He slaps his thighs and stands up, agitated. The mission isn’t going as planned, and he has a lot on his plate right now. Despite his irritation, he knows better than to engage in a pointless debate with you. Sighing, he walks over to the radiator and adjusts the controls. 

“I’ll raise it to two,” he murmurs. 

You raise your brow. “Two?” you ask, “Two, as in 1+1=2?” 

“What a brilliant mind you have,” he sneers. “Will you recite your ABCs for me next?” 

You disregard his sarcasm. “Raise it to six,” you negotiate. 

“Six?” he asks. “Six, as in the number of days you’ll be penalised for doing my head in?” 

“Come on, Lieutenant,” you beg. “At least meet me in the middle.” 

He lets out another sigh. “I’ll set it to three, and that’ll be the end of it.” 

You thank him with a nod. 

However, as time passes, the room does not become any warmer. Instead, it gets colder by the hour. Ghost notices your shivering. He gets to his feet and walks over to your desk, removing his left glove and reaching for your face. You shudder and shift in your seat, backing away. 

“Will you hold still for a moment?” he asks, placing his bare hand on your forehead and lightly clasping the back of your neck with his right hand. 

He remains silent and examines you, moving his hand from your forehead to the side of your cheek.

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, relishing the warmth. He hasn’t touched you like this in a long time, the mission denying you both any opportunity or space for intimacy. 

“It’s no surprise you feel cold,” he says. “You’re burning.” 

Your face is still pressed against his hand as you open your eyes. 

Instead of backing away, he rubs your back with his right hand. You lean in and hug his thigh. 

“I don’t feel like I’m burning; quite the opposite.” You protest, but your frail body gives you away. 

“Well, that’s what fever does to ya,” he explains softly. “You should go to the doctor.” 

Worry begins to creep in. “Does this mean I’m out of the mission?” you ask, concerned. It’s a critical job, and you can’t afford to be excused for a simple fever, especially at this crucial stage. 

“It means you should get checked first,” he asserts firmly. “I’ll request the doctor’s report once he’s finished evaluating you, and we’ll see.” 

He helps you rise to your feet; your eyes are half-lidded, struggling to stay awake, and your body is heavy with drowsiness. 

He takes off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. “This will keep you warm,” he says. His voice sounds like a lullaby in your ears. 

“What about my face, Lieutenant?” you joke. “Are you going to give me your balaclava as well?” 

He looks at you, but his response is not playful; this is not the time for your usual banter. 

“No,” he says softly, lifting his balaclava to reveal a warm smile. “But this,” he continues, reaching out to kiss your forehead, “will have to do for the time being.”

———————————————————————

[queenhunter102]

Damaging Government Property.

I don't know if you have seen the Video on TikTok where the wife had gotten in trouble for 'Damaging Government Property', I.E., she had given her husband a visible hickey, but I sure did. Blurb: Imagine you had just crawled your way into bed, it being the first night with  them being gone on a mission

You had barely climbed into your bed, flopping onto your front, your head hitting the pillow.

RING

RING

Simon 'Ghost' Riley You wonder who could be phoning you at such a dumbass hour; when you check your phone, it says private number, and you sigh, picking it up; it's Price at the other end.

“The Riley Residence” "This is Captain John Price"

You pull back from your phone looking at the number before you put it back to your ear.

"Yeah? Hi John"

"Don't 'Hi John' me, I can't believe that I must talk to YOU of all people, but Don’t Damage Government Property”.

That was all that was said before John hung up the phone, you stared at the phone wondering what that was about, before putting it back on your nightstand and falling asleep cuddling Simon's pillow.

A week later

You are sitting on the very few calls you can get with Simon when you remember the strange call from John.

"Hey Si, I got a question for you," you say, picking at an imaginary lint off the blanket that covered you.

"What's that, babe" came back the gruff reply, the sounds of a base in the background.

"John phoned me like a week ago and told me not to 'Damage Government Property' " you say, the word's damage Government Property sounded unsure and uneven.

There was silence on the line "What?" Said Simon.

You sighed "Yeah, I think he phoned the wrong person, could you talk to him about it”.

"Babe, what time did he phone you?" Simon asked.

"I don't know, like two in the morning" You could practically hear Simon's eye twitch.

"I'm going to kill him for disturbing you at a fucking dumb hour," Simon said as he hung up. Johnny 'Soap' McTavish You lift your phone but are not quite ready to sleep yet. The phone call read as private, and you are confused. You know Johnny won't be allowed to call you yet, but you pick up the call anyway. "Hello, you're calling Soap’s spouse," you say, sounding annoyed; you hear Ghost's tired sigh on the other end. "It's Lieutenant Simon, I know he's your boyfriend--" He said. "Fiancée, you know this, Si. You were there," you say, annoyed that he had addressed you and Johnny wrong. Ghost sighed this time, trying not to bark at you. "Until you and he share the same last name, I don't care," he said, practically growling in your ear. "My point is, I saw that stupid mark you left," He says, sounding annoyed; you scrunch your face in confusion. "What mark?" You say, sounding confused This time, he growled, "The Hickey, you know, the big bruise you gave him." Your face made an awed face, and now that you knew what he was talking about, you sighed into the phone. "I was careful; I made sure." At least you were confident. You knew better than to leave anything visual. "Yeah, well, guess what? We can see it, so do me a favour and don't Damage Government Property." A week later

Your phone began buzzing, it was Johnny. “Johnny! Is everything ok?” you asked, sounding a little worried it wasn’t often that he called you when he was out on a mission. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, Doll. I just found out that Simon phoned you, getting you into trouble for marking me. Honestly, I had my shirt off, and you’re the one in trouble,” he said, sounding pouty. He had gotten you in trouble for something that wasn’t your fault. Captain John Price

You sat in the Rattan Swing on the back porch, looking out to your back garden, your fingers tracing over the letters that John had sent you. You knew it was cheesy, but it made you feel special that he took the time to sit and write to you. Your phone sat off your side as you rested your head on the bars. Your phone began vibrating shaking you out of your fantasy, picking up your phone, answer the call without looking at the caller ID. “Well done, you’ve reached Captain Price. What can I do for you?” you say, your eyes still on the letters. All you heard was heavy breathing before John spoke, “I can’t believe they’re making me get you into trouble for this.” You pulled your phone away from your ear, looked at the number, and found it said ‘Private.’ “John? What’s happening is everything alright?” You ask sitting the letters to the right side of your knee, sitting up on the swing.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just-” He sighs before he speaks again. “Honey, you know before I left…we uh-you-know”, You smile, thinking of when you were lazing around the house, “Yeah? What of it, John?” “You gave me a hickey, and it was seen by one of my Commanding officers, and I need to give you the talk about ‘Damaging Government Property’,” he said, sighing. Well…Don’t damage government property,” he said, hanging up. You rolled your eyes. This was going to be a very long month. A week later “I can’t believe they made me give my own god damned spouse into trouble”, John exhaled. You laughed into the phone. “I know, it’s all you’re talking about in your letters”, you say, as you flicked through the most recent ones, “You still keep those?” he asks, and you smile. “Always.” Alejandro Vargas

You were repeatedly pushing furniture around your shared living room when your phone went off. When you finally reached your phone, you could barely catch the call. “Hello? You’ve reached the annoyed Vargas,” you say, leaning against the couch that was taking up half of the room. “Yeah, it’s me, John. I get you and Alejandro have fun and like to play a little hot and heavy, but not where the rest of us can see it,” John says, sounding a little annoyed. You tilt your head back. “John, I don’t know what you’re on about,” you say. “The Hickey, the one that is a deep purple; it's visible, so here’s the tagline: Don’t damage government property,” he says, huffing as he hangs up the phone. You pull your phone away from your ear as you finally read through your notifications, all from Alejandro, warning you not to pick up any private calls. A week later “I can’t believe you picked up the call,” Alejandro said, annoyed; you giggled into the phone. “He would have kept calling if I didn’t, you know how your captain is” you say, as you lifted the TV onto the TV stand, “Yeah, Yeah, He's a dog with a bone, You better not be re-arranging our flat.” You paused, turning to your phone. “No, never” Kyle Garrick You groaned as you rolled over onto your front, your phone insistently buzzing on the side table; you grumbled as you sat up blindingly, hitting your phone “Hel-lo?” you mumbled. “Hello, it’s John Price”, came the voice over the phone; you made a muffled noise “John? Ky’s Captain?” you answered, your eyes still bleary, trying to adjust to the darkness. “Yes, It’s his captain. I’m calling to discuss the hickey you gave Kyle,” he said, sounding frustrated; your face pinches as you lean over and flick on the light, it blinding you slightly, “Hickey? I didn’t-” you paused as your brain started to wake further “Oh yeah? No, I remember, the night-” you mumbled half out of it. “Ah, Ah, Ah, I don’t want to know, nor do I care. Just don’t damage government property,” he said before he hung up. “I can’t believe I’ve had to make a to all the boys,” he grumbled before the call cut out. A week later “He said what?” Kyle laughed, and you flipped your phone over onto your other shoulder. Yeah, apparently, you’re not the only one,” you said, laughing, as you pulled out the cookies from the oven, the tray clinking on the table. “Oooo, are you making your famous cookies?” came a different voice over the phone, and you rolled your eyes as you hit the speaker. “Yes, Johnny, they are the cookies.”

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Kissess.