#sorry for the late reply but i am actually studying

[darksisterswielder]

HI ANESA!!!!!

KITA MY LOVE!!!!

[sanarsi]

You’re doing great, sweetie

no-outbreak!professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader

Summary: You came to your professor to ask for help with your essay. He accidentally discovers one of your dirty secrets which is him. Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (reader is 20, Joel is 50), soft!dom!Joel (oh you’re gonna love him), unprotected/protected PIV, pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, sweetie), blowjob, fingering, cum eating Wordcount: 4,8k An: I am WEAK for caring and sweet Joel so that's who he is here. He’s wonderful and I love him with all my heart so I hope you love him too xx Music I worked with: Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey

Masterlist

Studying was hard. You shed sweat and tears there.

You tried.

You really tried.

Despite this, you weren't proud of yourself. You knew you could do better. You were like an executioner to yourself. Sleepless nights, thousands of notes and liters of coffee. That's what it cost you to pass a measly 95%.

Fucking 95%.

Where's the missing 5%? Where did you make a mistake that cost you as much as 5%? You had no idea. But you knew where you could find out.

Professor Miller's office was always open. Always invited stray students. Or in your case, perfectionists. Always welcomed with warmth and the smell of herbs. His office was a place of momentary respite and the feeling that the world wasn't really running, it was you. And that's why when you knocked on his door and were greeted by his warm smile, you finally felt like you could breathe.

“Professor,” you said with a smile, tightening your grip around a few notebooks.

"My favorite student," he replied in a warm but tired voice. No wonder, it was Friday and already late. Nothing worse than you could have happened to him.

“I'm sorry to disturb-”

“You know very well that you never disturb me,” he interrupted you immediately. You pursed your lips into a line, feeling your stomach tighten. He was always like this... And you still haven't gotten used to it. "Come in, I'll make you some tea," he offered, moving to the side. You smiled nervously and slipped inside.

"Actually, I prefer coffee."

"Coffee then," he nodded, closing the door and heading towards what replaced the small kitchen. You placed the stack of notebooks on the table and placed your bag on the ground. You looked around the office decorated in shades of dark brown and beige.

Everything here was thought out. Delicate accessories. Perfectly arranged books. Large oak desk. A table and a few chairs. And a large leather sofa by the window.

You liked being here. But the office itself was not enough. It was Professor Miller who gave it life. It was his energy that permeated every inch that made you feel at home here. Or at least that's what you wanted home to feel like.

You looked out the window at the small park in the middle of campus. The leaves on the trees were yellow, heralding the beginning of autumn. And everything would be beautiful if it weren't for the nasty weather. You don't even remember the last time you felt the sun's rays on your skin. Everything was as if under a dome of thick clouds.

“There are upsides to this weather,” professor's voice rang out behind you. You turned around just as he was placing two cups of coffee on the table.

"Like?" you asked, walking closer and sitting on the chair. Joel followed your lead and sat down with a soft groan. You smiled in amusement.

"Well..." he began, raising his eyebrows and leaned back, "actually, there aren't any," he finished after a moment's thought. “Unless you like rain and greyness,” he added with a smile.

You chuckled to yourself at his words. Sometimes you wished Joel was your main teacher. He was the only one who was just normal.

“What are you coming to me with?” he asked finally. You blinked a few times and cleared your throat, shifting in your chair. How should you tell him this...?

“I wanted to talk about the last essay we wrote,” you began calmly, seeing understanding immediately appear on Joel's face. "I wanted to know why you subtracted 5% from me."

"Of course you would like to know..." he muttered under his breath, amused, and shook his head. He looked at you with warmth in his eyes and was silent for a moment before sighing. “Honey, are you really going to fight for the stupid 5%?” he asked, hoping that maybe you'd change your mind and save you both from having to work on nothing.

“It's important 5%” you corrected him and he just looked at you in amusement. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on these cloudy days. Joel sighed, shaking his head and took off his glasses to wipe his tired face. He looked at you one more time before standing up and moving towards his desk. He pushed his glasses up his nose as he looked through the stack of papers, looking for your name. After a while he returned to his place with a few papers. He began to silently look through your work while you calmly drank your coffee. The coffee he made was always the best.

“Yeah okay…” he spoke after a few long minutes before he dropped your work on the table and slid it towards you. You put down your cup and took the papers. “The first half is good. Very good actually," he began to explain as you looked through a few pieces of paper, "But somewhere in the middle you completely changed your writing style. I didn't like it.” He glanced at the papers, wrinkling his nose. “The sentences were so…empty,” he explained, so you looked at him.

Was it really just about that? About the stupid writing style?

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling a pang in your heart.

“Is there anything I can do to improve?” you asked, sounding so delicate as if the slightest stimulus could break you. Joel was silent for a moment, staring at you. And he might start cursing you for how soft his heart was towards you.

He nodded slowly and drank his coffee. Every second of his silence seemed to drag on forever. The sound of the cup being placed down echoed in your head. You blinked a few times, waiting for him to speak but your leg began to tremble restlessly under the table.

“I'll do anything,” you said, unable to bear the silence. Joel smiled shaking his head.

"I know," he replied warmly. He cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. "Read the whole thing and mark the moment when you notice the change I mentioned to you," he instructed, to which you nodded and immediately got to work. In the meantime, he got up and continued what your visit had interrupted. Organizing papers wasn't his favorite thing to do, but he had to do it someday.

For several minutes you were focused on every word you wrote on these papers a week ago. The work was still satisfactory, but only now you were able to notice what the professor had mentioned. You winced as you read the sentences that looked like they were written by a robot. You understood why he deducted 5% from you.

“I can see it now,” you said, looking up. Joel stopped reading and placed the papers on the shelf before heading towards you. He stopped behind you and rested his hand on the back of your chair. His fingers touched your sweater, making you sit up straighter. You glanced at him as he leaned closer, looking at your work.

“Mhm,” he murmured, nodding. His attention was focused on the text until he finally straightened up. “Start from this point again. Write, I will come and check,” he ordered, looking down at you. “Then we'll talk about those important 5%,” he finished and you nodded automatically. You liked it when he was professional. Gravity and authority suited him. You followed him with your eyes and only when he returned to looking through his papers, you did get to work too.

You sat in silence for an hour, writing your papers. For an hour, the only thing that broke the silence was Joel's soft murmurs. He watched you from time to time as you dealt with your writing, and a small smile appeared on his lips when he saw how focused you were.

It was starting to get dark outside, so a few warm lamps gave a nice atmosphere. You were staring at the last sentence you wrote when suddenly a cup of hot coffee appeared next to you. You looked away from the text and looked at your steaming drink.

“Thank you,” you said quietly and glanced up at Joel who was looking into your notebook. He carefully followed the text you had written. You remained silent, waiting for him to speak. Finally he nodded gently in approval.

“You're doing great,” he praised, making eye contact with you. You smiled gently and he responded in the same way. He straightened up, tapping your chin teasingly and winking. "Write," he nodded and then left.

You swallowed hard, staring at his back as your heart beat so loudly that it drowned out everything around you. You blinked a few times in confusion and shifted nervously in your seat, returning your gaze to your notebook.

He had such a warm smile...

Another hour passed. Joel continued to stand by the bookcase arranging papers and books while you walked around reading your work to him.

“Repeat that last sentence,” he spoke, catching your eye for a moment. You stopped and looked at the text.

“Her gaze was empty and sunk into the depths of darkness,” you read and immediately looked at him, expecting disapproval. Joel was silent for a moment, wrinkling his nose and passing the papers between his fingers.

"Next."

“Like death slowly emerging, she stood up too. The black lady who heralded no tomorrow…”

“I like this one,” he said, cutting you off halfway through. You looked at him with a smile and continued reading.

Several minutes passed before you finished. You stood in the middle of the room with a grimace as you read the last few sentences in your head again.

“I don't think I like the ending,” you said hesitantly. Before long, you felt the professor's body behind you. His hand came to rest on your arm as he leaned over your shoulder. You immediately stopped breathing, feeling your skin begin to burn where he touched you. He focused on reading and you focused on the way his chest pressed against your back.

Damn…why did his touch send such pleasant warmth? Why was his closeness so pleasant that you were afraid to move lest it be interrupted?

“I don't see any problem,” he said, frowning. His voice so close to your ear sent shivers down your entire body. You swallowed, forcing yourself to say a few sentences.

Why did it take so much energy for you to speak?

“I'm reading this and it doesn't feel like it's over,” you explained and glanced sideways at him. “Do you see what I mean?” Joel caught your eye for a moment and then started reading the text again.

“I understand, but I still don't see the problem. You ended it in a simple way," he said, tracing the text with his finger.

“You know I don't like simplicity,” you muttered under your breath, earning him a sigh. The sound made your stomach tighten.

“Honey, listen…” he started and tightened his fingers on your arm. “I know you try like no other and always want everything to be perfect,” he said calmly, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. You looked at him and immediately locked eyes. “But sometimes simple is best option,” he finished, smiling softly. You stared into his eyes in silence and slowly swallowed when your gaze fell to his lips for a moment. You immediately looked away at your notes, feeling your breath shudder.

"I'm still not convinced"

“Of course you're not,” Joel sighed and snatched the notebook from you before walking away a few steps, starting to read again. You stood there, watching as he slowly started to spin in circles.

“I would give you 100% for this” he commented.

“I wouldn't give 100% for this,” you muttered under your breath, but not so quietly that he couldn't hear it. He looked at you, stopping.

“It's good that you're not me,” he replied with a gentle smile, which immediately made you feel a blush of shame on your cheeks. Joel went back to reading and you started mentally cursing yourself at your long tongue.

You started playing with your fingers behind your back and looked down at your shoes for a moment. Only the sound of pages turning caught your attention. Joel indifferently studied the remaining pages in your notebook, and then you felt a twinge of panic. You were about to open your mouth to speak when he interrupted you.

"I will give you a deadline for corrections," he continued, flipping through the pages until he finally stopped at one. "This is interesting," he commented under his breath, starting to read. You felt a cold sweat cover your body as you realized what could have caught his attention.

“Professor…” you spoke warningly. Joel silenced you with a wave of his hand. You fell silent, pursing lips tightly. You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him closely. You watched for any signs of what he might be reading. And more importantly, how he reacted to what he read.

A soft smile appeared on his lips before he looked towards you. You looked like you had seen a ghost, what amuse him even more.

"You're even better at non-fiction than short stories," he commented, raising an eyebrow and closing notebook. You blinked a few times as if his words were completely lost on you. Only after a while you waking up from the stasis.

"Non-fiction?" you asked confused. You frowned, wondering if you had ever written something non-fiction, but nothing came to mind.

“I mean…” he started with a snort and slowly moved towards you. "I thought my eyes were just brown," he laughed softly. And that's when your heart stopped.

You felt every muscle in your body tense as you watched him in horror. He read... He read the fucking poetry about his eyes. You were screwed…

“Professor-” you started, wanting to explain yourself. Say anything that could get you out of this ridiculous situation.

“Joel,” he interrupted you.

You froze with your mouth parted and you could have sworn you heard your heart start beating again.

You stared at him when he stopped two steps in front of you. Joel seemed completely relaxed while you were having a nervous breakdown. Your silence only made his smile widen.

"Do not get me wrong. I really like it” He lifted the notebook, tapping the cover with his finger. You followed his every move carefully in silence. Really, you couldn't be in a worse position. “I'd love to read about other things, too,” he added with a smile and held out notebook towards you. You hesitantly raised your trembling hand and took your notebook, hugging it to your chest as if it would protect you from everything that was happening.

You blinked a few times, your eyes darting. As long as you don't look him in the eye. You nodded in agreement, feeling like nothing could come out of your mouth.

“Hey…” he started gently and grabbed your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

His hand… on your face… Oh god.

“Don't be ashamed of your poetry,” he said, gently stroking your skin with his thumb. You swallowed hard, feeling yourself start to shiver. You nodded almost invisibly. “Use your words,” he encouraged.

“Okay,” you whispered weakly, your breath shaky. One word cost you more effort than writing several pages of text.

"That's my good girl," he smiled wider, pleased.

His fingers slowly traced your cheek and he tucked a broken strand of hair behind your ear, following every move with eyes.

“So what can I read about in the future?” he asked as his fingers slowly moved down to your neck. You felt like you were burning alive. You were so damn hot that you started sweating. Your heart wasn’t slowing down and you could barely catch your breath.

Was this what dying was like?

“I-” you trailed off, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Maybe hands?” he suggested, raising an eyebrow. His fingers slowly moved your hair behind your shoulder. “Hm? What do you think?" He asked, looking back into your eyes.

You felt like you were in some movie. You weren't even able to think straight when he touched you like that. You nodded in response.

“Words,” he reminded you.

“Yes, I'd like that.” Joel smiled warmly before removing his hand and sighing.

“Great,” he nodded and walked past you towards the door. You turned around, watching his every move. “I have time next week. You can come to my class and write your essay," he said on his way to the door.

You took a few steps after him but stopped when he did too. Joel turned towards you, his hand on the doorknob. He still had that warm smile on his face as he looked at you.

“Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere,” he said, raising an eyebrow when he noticed you had moved from your previous spot. His fingers slipped from the door knob and closed the door in one motion.

Then you realized what was about to happen.

You parted your lips, trying to catch your breath, but Joel was already in front of you again.

And this time, his lips were the reason you stopped breathing.

Soft and warm lips surrounded by rough stubble.

A mixture that made your knees weak in a second.

You sighed at the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, leading you in a slow dance. His hand on your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist. You sighed again as he pulled you closer. His tongue found yours and his fingers tangled in your hair. He kissed gently and tenderly. Exactly as you imagined. Exactly as you needed.

“Tell me,” he started, pulling away from your lips, breathing heavily. “Tell me that you want this.”

His breath mixed with yours. Your gaze was fixed on his lips and his on your eyes.

“Mhm,” you nodded because that was all you could do. But it was enough for him to crash his lips against yours again. You moaned at the intensity with which he started kissing you. Like he was thirsty.

Joel took the notebook from your hands and threw it on the table. His lips collided with yours over and over again. His arm wrapped tightly around your body. A scenario like one of your wet dreams.

“On your knees,” he whispered against your lips and loosened his grip. You took a moment to calm your breathing and licked his saliva from your swollen lips. You looked into his eyes, filled with warmth and desire. A look you would do anything for. Including falling to your knees in front of him.

You watched as his fingers slowly unbuckled his belt. And he just watched your sweet face. Your eyes reflected soft lights and your lips were slightly puffy. You looked like an angel.

He slowly unzipped his zipper and then your eyes met his. And you had to admit that this was the perspective from which you could look at him forever.

His hand disappeared into his boxers only to take out his semi-hard cock a moment later. You weren't able to take your eyes off his, causing a smirk to appear on his lips.

“Come on baby, you gotta help me out a little.”

His gentle words and warm smile immediately encouraged you to do whatever he asked you to do. You looked at his cock and slowly moved closer to place a kiss on the tip. That was enough for Joel to moan quietly with satisfaction. You licked the precum from his tip, immediately moisturizing all his length. Another moan escaped his lips as you took him into your mouth. His hand found its way into your hair as you slowly began to caress his cock with your mouth. With each movement of your tongue you felt him getting harder and harder. Until you finally started choking on him.

You pulled away for air and looked at him as he took off his glasses to wipe his face. He looked like he had run a marathon, but his eyes were full of you. He was breathing heavily as he decided to put his glasses on the table. And then you wrapped your mouth around his cock again.

“So pretty,” he moaned, stroking your head affectionately.

You felt his tip teasing your throat again so you pulled away, gasping for breath. His thumb was immediately on your lips, wiping away the saliva. You looked up at him like an innocent deer.

“Good, baby,” he praised you and tugged on your chin, forcing you to stand up. He immediately leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You melted under his lips, making him smile.

His hands slid down your waist to your hips, pressing his fingers against your skin. A second later he was unbuttoning your jeans only for his hand to slip into your panties. You both moaned at the same time as his fingers traced your entrance. You grabbed onto his arms as your knees buckled beneath you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he felt your reaction.

“You're so wet,” he whispered against your lips. His eyes never left yours as he began to spread your juices over your clit. You shuddered, breathing heavily, and dug your nails harder into his skin. Then his fingers slowly slipped into your wet hole.

He watched in delight as your lips parted and your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. The moan that left your throat as he slowly moved his fingers was like music to his ears. Every movement of his fingers echoed throughout your body. Like you were getting drunker with each thrust.

Joel couldn't help himself and started drinking your moans like the best wine. For the first time, it didn't take much to feel your orgasm building between your legs. He groaned into your mouth, feeling you slowly tighten around his finger.

"Already?" he asked with a smile.

“Please,” you moaned sweetly and he smiled wider. He stole a gentle kiss from you.

“Of course,” he whispered, pleased with how intensely you responded to his touch. He was flattered.

You closed your eyes as your body began to chase your orgasm. Then his fingers flexed slightly and you felt stars all over your body. You moaned as you came on his fingers. Joel didn't stop until he saw the beautiful post-orgasmic bliss on your face.

When you finally opened your eyes, you immediately saw him licking his fingers clean of your juices. And honestly, it was the sexiest sight of your life. You swallowed, wanting to moisten your dry throat.

“Turn around,” he ordered, continuing to lick his fingers. You followed his instructions without hesitation.

You felt his large, warm hands on your hips and your heart beat faster in your chest with excitement. His hand pushed your back gently, causing you to lie down on the table. His lips kissed your shoulder a few times before he straightened up, looking down at you.

And he would be lying if he said that this sight had never crossed his mind.

In a second your jeans were sliding down your thighs. You heard his soft laugh when he noticed your panties.

"You're really sweet," he commented, running his fingers over the white panties with colorful strawberries. A blush burned your face, but you smiled to yourself anyway.

A few seconds later, your panties also stopped at your thighs. Joel crouched down and spread your thighs so he could look at your wet pussy. A soft growl left his throat, making you tense as another drop of your previous orgasm left your entrance.

“I could eat you all night long,” he said, his voice laced with desire and your stomach twisted into knots. His words echoed against your pussy, making your knees tremble. “Another time, sweetheart,” with that he stood up and spread the wetness between your legs with his fingers. You moaned at the feeling and closed your eyes, snuggling into the table. He leaned over you and ran his nose over your ear. You shuddered. "Because there will be another time, hm?" he whispered, sending shivers down your entire body.

He slowly positioned his cock perfectly at your entrance and ran the tip along the length of your pussy to wet it. You started panting as you felt him ready to enter you.

“Yes, please,” you moaned. Joel laughed softly and then slowly entered you until the end. You both moaned as he stopped his hips against yours.

And then reality hit him. He straightened up, looking at the place where you were connected.

"Shit, baby, I didn't put a condom," he cursed due to his stupidity. You immediately glanced at him over your shoulder, seeing that he was surprised by his own carelessness.

“I'm taking the pills,” you replied quickly, not wanting him to interrupt. You felt him so damn good…

“Are you sure?” he asked, a bit worried about whether you wanted him to continue.

“I am,” you nodded. You looked at each other for a moment and then Joel leaned down to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His hips slowly came back to life, thrusting into you slowly and intensely. His cock stimulated every wall of your pussy perfectly. You moaned into his mouth, feeling him in every part of your body. As if his cock was made just for you.

His fingers dug hard into your hips as he slowly buried himself inside you. It quickly drove you crazy. You couldn't even kiss him back so you fell on the table, choking heavily.

Joel rested his forehead on your shoulder as he entered you again and again. Taking his time, enjoying you. He loved the way you tightened around his cock every time he entered you all the way.

His moans disappeared in your skin and his cock in your pussy, creating a deadly mixture that quickly brought you to the brink of breaking. You cried as you felt his slow movements drive you to sweet madness. You wanted to beg him to speed up, to do anything to speed up your fulfillment. But Joel knew very well what he was doing. Your needy moans only confirmed to him how good he was doing you.

“You're doing great, sweetie” he breathed against your ear as you cried his name once again. His movements were like slow torture. Perfect to bring you to the edge of pleasure and too slow to end it.

But then he changed the movement of his hips, pushing himself even deeper into you. You choked on air as he growled, holding you even tighter. You didn't need much now.

“Can you cum on my cock?” he asked, panting with thirst.

“Mhm,” you nodded, pressing your lips together to keep from squealing. Joel let out a satisfied groan and started placing kisses on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, moaning with desire.

“You're fucking perfect, baby,” he moaned, stroking and squeezing your hip and thigh. He was insanely hungry for you. Like an animal. Like a worshipper.

One last push of his hips and his name fell from your lips like a prayer as you came. Joel groaned as he felt you tighten on his cock. He stopped, enjoying the feeling, feeling that his orgasm was fast approaching. He then started thrusting into you again, at a slightly faster speed. This only prolonged your pleasure to the limit.

“Cum inside you?” he asked, his fingers tightening on your hip.

“Yes, Mr. Miller,” you moaned. Joel growled, grabbing your neck and pulling you to his chest. His lips crushed yours in a hungry kiss in a second. A few moves inside you and his moan disappeared into your mouth. His cock twitched inside you, filling you fully with his orgasm.

You both panted into each other's mouths as he gave you sweet gentle kisses. Eventually his breathing calmed down and he pulled away so he could look at you with a blissful smile. He ran his gentle fingers along your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I'll make time for you tomorrow. The sooner you write your essay, the sooner I can enjoy you, deal?" he suggested.

You smiled softly and nodded, “Deal.”

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 15.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: curses, mentions of jk's unaliving attempt, explicit content: hickeys, fingering, they are so in love and can't stop saying it, unprotected sex, creampie

☆word count: 2.6k

☆a/n: i love them, and my bad if there are any typos this is heavily unedited haha let me know if you see any!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook feels anxious. Ever since Taehyung asked him to meet up to talk, he’s been feeling incredibly anxious, like his heart might explode in his chest. Even worse - he’s afraid he’ll run into you when he gets to the apartment, and after what you said on Thursday, he thinks he might break with no way to heal if he sees you.

He’s scheduled an appointment with his therapist later today. All he can do is hope that it’ll help. And that his conversation with Taehyung will help, too.

Taehyung is in the living room when Jungkook gets home, playing on the Switch. He pauses his game the second Jungkook walks in, and they both stare at each other for a time, an uneasy silence filling the apartment.

Taehyung breaks it first. “Hey.”

Jungkook takes off his shoes but keeps his coat on as he heads towards the living room. “Hey.”

“How have you been?” Taehyung asks.

It’s awkward, and Jungkook hates it. He’s been hating way too much stuff in his life lately.

“Fine,” Jungkook replies. 

He can’t bring himself to return the question, and he sits at the other extremity of the couch, as far away from Taehyung as he possibly can.

“Listen…” Taehyung says when he realizes Jungkook won’t say anything else. “I’m sorry I punched you.” He winces as his eyes go over the bruise and wound Jungkook knows adorn his cheek. “Shit, I actually got you good.”

“You did,” Jungkook coldly replies.

Taehyung eyes his knuckles, which have also turned red and purple from the blow. “I really am sorry for that. I don’t know why I punched you, and I’m a little disgusted with myself that I did.”

“You were mad. It makes sense.”

Taehyung shakes his head no. “It doesn’t make sense. But… man, why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Because you told me you’d kill me if I did touch her?” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Yet you still went behind my back and fucked her,” Taehyung states, a hint of anger flashing behind the words.

“I didn’t fuck your sister,” Jungkook spits. “It’s never been like that with her.”

Taehyung remains silent for a few seconds and then sighs deeply. “Then how is it?”

His tone is cool, composed, and a lot nicer than Jungkook expected it to be. It calms down the anger that was starting to simmer in his blood better than a cold shower would have.

“Wha - what?” Jungkook lets out.

Taehyung offers him a smile that seems forced, yet Jungkook sees it for what it is - he’s trying to make an effort.

“How is it with Y/n?”

Jungkook gulps, gaze widening. “Huh… well…” he trails off, eyes falling to his hands, where he’s been mindlessly pulling at the calluses he gets from working out. “It’s… great. I know she’s your sister but fuck… she’s amazing.”

“She is,” Taehyung agrees.

“But I fucked everything up in Paris when I kissed Gabrielle.”

The silence that follows is heavy, interrupted by Taehyung’s sigh what feels like an eternity later.

“Were you guys together then?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook shrugs. “We weren’t together together. But yes we were.” He pauses, and his throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper when he tries to swallow. “We started on Valentine’s Day.”

Taehyung’s nose is scrunched up, much like you sometimes do, when Jungkook looks at him. “That’s… a long time ago.”

“We ended in Paris, though,” Jungkook adds. “Except last Thursday.”

“I thought you and Lisa…” Taehyung trails off.

“It happened once last month,” Jungkook immediately explains, probably far more defensive than necessary. “And Y/n actually caught us together so… I ended things with Lisa right away.”

“I remember Lisa being pissed about it,” Taehyung admits. “But then she said that it was because of another girl, and looking back I was stupid to think it was Gaby.”

Jungkook purses his lips. “I haven’t spoken to Gaby in person since Paris. We only texted a couple of times.”

Including that one time she’d given him shit for not telling you about his promise to her.

“Right…” Taehyung trails off. He sighs, sitting back on the couch, throwing Jungkook a look. “What do you want with my sister?”

Jungkook gulps around a sudden lump in his throat. What does he want with you? He already knows, but can he tell Taehyung? Can he tell your brother that he’s so irreversibly in love with you he thinks he’s been dying since you said it was a lapse of judgment on Thursday?

That he almost died in July after he lost you?

“You want the truth?” Jungkook asks, his heart rate spiking. “I’m in love with her. I just want her to be happy, and of course I wish she’d want to be happy with me, but I don’t think that’ll happen after last Thursday.”

“You’re in love with her?” Taehyung repeats.

Jungkook gulps. “Yes.”

Taehyung nods and, to Jungkook’s surprise, taps Jungkook’s shoulder. “Noted. Come home, Jungkook. You should talk to her.”

Jungkook is stunned silent, and he just stares at Taehyung, just stares at his best friend unblinkingly, not understanding where the conversation went.

“What?”

“Come home,” Taehyung repeats. “I’m not mad at you. I was mostly mad that you both hid it from me for months, but clearly I was wrong.” He pauses, chuckles lightly. “At least that’s what Ari said. She quite literally beat some sense into me.”

So… this is it? The biggest obstacle to you and him… wasn’t even an obstacle?

“She did?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, gaze widening as if he’s reminiscing about what happened with Ariane. “She said that I was a dick for not letting you guys figure your shit out. I think Gaby told her about the two of you.”

That would make sense, considering that the two girls are best friends. 

“Oh,” is all Jungkook manages to say.

Taehyung surveys him for a few seconds, as Jungkook’s world crumbles down around him. It’s like the floor disappeared, and he’s plummeting towards the ground with no parachute to save him.

Taehyung is not opposed to your relationship.

If you want it, Jungkook can be with you.

“So come home,” Taehyung repeats. “Talk to Y/n. Fix shit with her.” Taehyung smiles, and this time it’s fully genuine. “I just want you both to be happy.”

Jungkook nods, and he has to take a deep breath to refrain from crying then and there. “Okay.” He nods again. “Okay, I will talk to her.”

There’s a moment of silence as Taehyung just carefully observes Jungkook. Jungkook wonders, can Taehyung hear the wild beats of his heart at the perspective of talking to you?

“Can I…” Taehyung starts, and then his eyes drop to his hands in his lap. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s heart seems to come to a full halt in his chest. “Yeah?”

“What happened last summer…” Taehyung trails off. “Is it related to Y/n?”

A bottle of wine crashing on the pavement comes to Jungkook’s mind. But he never told Taehyung - how would he know?

“What do you mean?” Jungkook replies, pulling on his piercings.

“In July.” Taehyung sighs, meeting Jungkook’s gaze for a few seconds. “Lisa told Sera, and she told me and Jimin.”

Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much, hating the vulnerability that it imposes him.

“Ah.” He gulps, and he thinks about you for a moment.

Thinks about the fact that you were the only thing on his mind when he was so close to ending it.

“It was partly caused by losing her, yes,” Jungkook finally answers, and he’s suddenly blinking back tears.

“Fuck, JK…” Taehyung trails off. “You really should have told me about her…”

“I didn’t think you’d be… open-minded,” Jungkook says, shrugging his shoulders. “And she’d already ended things with me then.”

Taehyung nods once, and then sighs again. “Please don’t keep everything to yourself now, okay? I really don’t want you to think you’re alone. And I really don’t want you to ever feel like… that is a solution. So please talk to me, talk to Jimin whenever you need help, okay?”

Jungkook can’t speak around the lump in his throat, so all he does is nod. Taehyung understands - they’re best friends after all.

“I love you, bro,” Taehyung adds. “Please talk to Y/n.”

“I will,” Jungkook answers, his voice choked up with emotion.

All he can hope for is for you to be open to the conversation, whenever it comes. 

*****

For the first time in months, Jungkook feels at peace.

You’re here with him, and for the first time, he knows he won’t have to let go. Maybe that’s why he’s kissing you slowly, softly - you have all of eternity stretched ahead of you. Yet it seems you want more. Your kisses grow deeper, and soon his blood is pulsing at his ears, shooting down to his dick, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth.

It’s like he’s discovering you for the first time. He marvels at your sight, at your taste, at the way you moan softly against his lips. He swallows your sounds, inhales your inebriating scent, and he climbs on top of you, gently parting your legs with his knee so that he can be as close to you as possible.

He has half a thought that Taehyung is somewhere in the apartment, but the way you wrap your legs around his waist makes him forget everything until there’s just you and him.

He leaves your mouth to find your neck, his tongue darting out to taste you. A second later he’s sucking a hickey on your skin, and you moan softly, hand pulling at his hair.

“Kook,” you breathe out.

He pauses, just content with being close to you. “I love you, peach.”

Your arms wrap tightly around him, and though you have to be aware of his erection pressing against you, you both just stay there for a moment. 

“Love you too, Kook. So, so much.”

It’s the way you say the words. Jungkook immediately feels the need to be inside you, to be surrounded by you, and he kneels between your legs so that he can take off his shirt. You run a hand on his body, awe in your eyes like you, too, can’t believe you made it in the end. He takes a moment to look at you, to take in the way your eyes sparkle with emotion - with love, lust and yearning.

He loves you. And the best part about it is, you love him too.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

You sit up, taking off your shirt in one swift motion that reveals so much skin - you weren’t wearing a bra - and Jungkook thinks he’ll go insane. It’s like he forgot what you looked like despite seeing you just a few days ago - it feels like a whole lifetime ago.

You’ve gained muscles over the months apart. You’re leaner, and there’s a strength to your curves that makes Jungkook’s dick twitch in his pants. The tattoo on your ribs is all too attractive too, and Jungkook takes a moment to trace it as you lie back down under his watchful gaze.

The art is beautiful. Delicate, with fine lines that have sunk perfectly in your skin. Jungkook wonders who your artist is, if they’d be able to tattoo something on him too, something to remind him of you. But then you’re whining from lack of attention, and Jungkook leans down, kissing you deeply.

You run your hands on the skin of his back, nails lightly digging in his skin, and when he grunts softly, you whisper, “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He goes fully insane. Insanely in love, perhaps. He undresses you, kissing every inch of skin revealed, and though he wants to taste you, to eat you out until you come undone on his tongue, his dick is throbbing too painfully for him to ignore it.

You’re glistening, your arousal evident the second his eyes land on you. He still takes a moment to slip two fingers inside of you as he kisses you again, swallowing your soft moans as they come. And when he thinks you’re ready, stretched enough for his dick, Jungkook takes off the rest of his clothes. His dick springs free, already rock hard like it always is with you, and he jerks himself off a couple of times as he watches you, as you watch him through half-lidded eyes.

“Condom?” he asks, though he hopes you’ll say no.

He wants to feel all of you again.

You shake your head no. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Fuck,” he curses, his dick hardening even more. “Fuck, peach, I love you.”

He comes closer, rubbing his tip on you, collecting your juices. It’s so sensitive without a condom, and he has to bite the tip of his tongue so that he doesn’t come right away. It doesn’t help that you’re so wet. That a moment later he’s slipping in, inch after inch, your walls sucking him in. 

It doesn’t help that you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows bunch together from the pleasure. You’re so hot like this, so sinfully beautiful, and some feral part of him just wants to pound into you, to fuck you until the whole neighbourhood knows that you’re his forever now.

But he tames himself, slowly pulls out before pushing all the way in again. 

“Kook,” you moan, and your hand finds one of his where it’s holding your waist. “Come close.”

You don’t have to ask twice, especially not as he wants you close, too. So he bends down, cages you between his forearms, and then he establishes a slow rhythm. Your hips lift to meet his, your walls tightening around him from the motion, and he knows he’ll come fast.

You’re too tight, too wet, for him to hold on for a long time. So he tells you how much he loves you. Whispers on your lips that he never wants to be separated from you again, that he thinks you’re the reason he’s alive. You confess your love back, tell him that he’s so worthy of your love, that you wouldn’t want anyone other than him. 

You tell him that you’ll love him when you’re old, which makes him laugh against your lips. There’s beauty in the thought, in the knowledge that he does have a lifetime with you.

“You’re…” he trails off, because he has no words to describe how amazing you are, and his dick is stealing most of the blood from his brain.

So he kisses you instead. Kisses you slow, kisses you deep, his motions growing faster until they turn sloppy, and then he pushes all the way in, his dick twitching as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. You hold him tight, pussy pulsating around him, and Jungkook’s high keeps going on and on, your lips muffling his groans and soft moans.

“I love you,” he says again when he starts being able to think once more.

He’ll never get tired of telling you.

“I love you too, Kook,” you whisper.

He’ll never get tired of hearing that, too.

Read chapter fifteen here!

☆☆☆☆☆

he is so in love with her please send help. Let me know what you think of the drabble!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[totheblood]

shiver | s.r.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer would do anything for you, but doesn't understand why you have pulled away from him.

warnings: angst, avoidant!reader

a/n: gonna be so honest i wanted this to be a series but i ended up hating it like 2k words in so that's why the end is so good... if people like it i will do a part two but oh my god its so bad and rushed towards the end... but this one is for my avoidantly attached girlies!! i see u and i love u and i am also sorry.. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTSS!!!

wc: 3.1k

"So I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you?."

The hum of the air condition rang through the bullpen as Spencer studied you from his desk. With your hand in your hair, absentmindedly reading files with your body slumped forward, you looked unbelievably and unmistakably tired.

 It was another late night doing paperwork from last week's case, and nearly everyone was running on caffeine and pure luck. Spencer had finished his work an hour, thirty four minutes, and eight seconds ago but he still found himself glued to his chair and taking on JJ’s leftover work. All so he could silently watch over you from his desk. 

He didn't quite understand his fascination with you. It was almost embarrassing how he hung onto your every word you said, willing to do any and everything you wanted him to. But it was more embarrassing that you never paid him that same attention. Well, that wasn't completely true when he first met you, but as the months went on he could feel your attention from him drifting. 

When you first started at the BAU last year you were shy and timid, but Spencer noticed the small chuckles that escaped from your lips at his complex jokes and how your eyes watched him as he spewed some random fact that the rest of the team groaned at. You used to hang onto every word he said, asking him follow up questions with your pupils dilated. 

It was natural how you gravitated towards him. He was the only one on the team remotely close to your age, and like you, he was a bonafide genius. But you always wanted to know more and he always wanted to tell you more. It was innocent and pure, the way he thought about you, until you started to pull away. 

Spencer knew the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain when someone who used to give you attention pulls away. It creates a pattern similar to drug addiction, something he was all too familiar with, and it had started to get all too familiar for him to know how to properly deal with it. It had reached the point where he was counting each glance you gave him, the small way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you spoke to him, and even to the point where he was keeping track of how many words you uttered to him daily. 

He tracked it too. Your conversations with him had been on a steep decline since February, and now in late May he found himself wondering what he had done wrong. He had known the path he was leading himself down was one he shouldn't continue, but he couldn't care. His brain was operating for him, and he was succumbing to his worst fears. 

His brain made any attempts to rationalize your behavior, none of which calmed his anxiety. Maybe he was too clingy, always opting to sit next to you on the jet, or partner up with you in the field. Maybe he had said the wrong thing, something that made you immediately sick of him. Maybe you started seeing someone. The last one bothered Spencer the most, but he couldn't understand why. 

Spencer did everything he could to convince himself he didn't have a crush on you. As juvenile as it sounds was as juvenile as he felt every time his cheeks tinged pink when you spoke to him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't actually ‘like’ you, he just was preoccupied with you. It was your behavior that triggered his attachment style, it wasn't that he liked you. 

And as much as he wanted it to be true, he knew it wasn't. He was infatuated the moment he met you. Spencer knew he could never forget anything, but he knew for sure he would never forget your face. He traced in his mind over and over again, the way your whole face lit up when you ate something sugary, how your eyes blinked up at him when you spoke, and how you would drag your teeth in between your lips whenever you were focused. He'd find himself finding any excuse to be close to you. 

Spencer had once made a vow to himself that he would never pretend to be stupid. Not for anyone, and especially not for a girl. Which is why he almost physically smacked himself when he pretended to not have read a book by Jane Austen just so he could have something to talk to you about. He had read her entire collection when he was eight, yet he still found himself agreeing to read it and tell you how he liked it. He never forgot a word of the book “Emma,” but he still found himself rereading it for you. That was how much power you had over him. A power you seemed to be unaware of. 

6 months ago - November

“So, did you read it?” you questioned, arm pressing into the hardword of his desk, eyes wide and waiting. He didn't notice you at first, which was a first for him, making him jump as he turned to face you. 

“I did,” he answered, lips in a tight smile as he set his pen down, “I still have no idea why everyone seems to love Mr. Knightley. He strikes me as being a bully. I liked Frank Churchill far more.”

“Please,” you scoff rolling your eyes, “Churchill, seriously? All he had were his good looks. He was a total ass!” Your use of ‘ass’ earned a genuine smile from Spencer, whos eyes lit up as he spoke. 

“He wasn’t the most sincere,” he starts, shaking his head, “but he still had a far better personality than Knightley. I’d sooner date Frank Churchill over Mr Knightley. At least Frank had a sense of humor.”

“That's true, I guess,” you agreed looking down at his pristine desk. All he had on it were closed case files and a framed photograph of him and the team on it. You weren't in it but you studied it quickly, noticing how Spencer stared a brunette in the picture. Whoever it was, he was looking at her like she held the world in her hands. You would be lying if you said it didn't sting. As if he could sense you deflate he sat up straighter, following your vision to the picture on his desk. 

“We have to take a new one-” he rushed out quickly, causing your eyes to snap back to him, “You know, one with you… in it,” He pursed his lips nodding as he spoke again, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, “You know cause now you're part of the team and this picture is old anyways. From when I first started here and as you can tell, I look completely different and it's time I updated it.”

“Who’s she?” you asked, finger pointing directly to Elle’s face. As you spoke you watched for any clues that would give you insight on how he felt about her. 

“Oh, Elle,” the way he said it made him sound defeated, like he forgot that she was in the picture, even though you knew that wasn't the case, “she used to work here, but, uh, she left.”

“You guys were close?” you questioned him, eyebrows raised as you watched him glance over at the picture before leaning back in his chair and putting all his focus on you. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, “we were, but…” his voice trailed off, as looked down at his feet, “we're not in contact anymore. She hasn't really spoken to any of us since she left,” 

“Oh,” you sighed out. You wanted to be upset that it was obvious he was enamored with her, but you just felt bad. The way his whole demeanor changed as he spoke made you feel more upset than anything, “I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” his eyes darted back up to you as his tight-lipped smile reappeared. He glanced back at his desk, before turning his body away from you, “I, uh, have some work I should get back to, though,”

“Yeah,” you smiled, standing up straight as you prepared yourself to turn around. You wanted to say something, anything, but you didn't. You just turned around and went back to your desk, something stinging brewing in your chest. 

Present Day

Spencer thought back to that day, wondering if his change in disposition is what made you change. It rang through his head as he tapped his foot, eyes trained on you. He was lost in thought when your eyes snapped up towards him, making him flinch. You offered him a small smile but it hadn't reached your eyes before looking back down at your work. 

The interaction made him decide that it was time to go home. That him sitting and staring was doing nothing for him or you. Standing up, he slung his messenger bag across his body, goodbyes prepared on the tip of his tongue. As he was about to speak Hotch exited his office, eyes meeting sympathetically with Spencer’s as he entered the bullpen. 

“We have a case,” Hotch announced, “I need everyone in the conference room in ten.” 

As the team flooded into the conference room, Spencer hung back, watching as you collected your things and trailed behind the rest of the team with a stack of files in your arms. 

“Need help with th-” Spencer began, arms outstretched towards you.

“No,” you replied abruptly, “I’m fine.”

It came out colder than you would have liked, causing Spencer to shiver, purse his lips and head into the conference room with his head hung low. 

“Our first victim was 35-year-old Leonardo Ruiz,” Garcia started, remote in hand clicking to display the picture of the mutilated man with his hands bound by rope and publicly displayed hanging from trees. Almost instinctively you flinch. You know it's the job but it never gets easy seeing the images. The man's face was distorted, slashed repeatedly with a knife until he became unrecognizable.

“He was reported missing after failing to report to his shift,” another click of the camera to show the abandoned patrol car, with the door open, it was obvious there had been a struggle, “His patrol car was found 2 miles from where his body was found in Arlington, where there appeared to be a struggle. Ruiz was missing for approximately two days before his body was discovered.”

“There was no dash cam footage from the patrol car?” Rossi asks from his chair, leaning forward as Garcia clicks the remote again.

“Exactly what I thought, but here's the creepy bit: There is no sign of another person on the dashcam footage. He doesn't even mention seeing another person, you can't hear the struggle, in fact there is no audio on the footage at all. Because three days before Ruiz went missing, his dashcam footage lost all audio. He reported it to the department and they were going to look into it but they were unable to fix it before Ruiz was taken,” Garcia answers, sending a chill down your spine. 

“So this was premeditated,” you speak up, causing everyone to look at you, including Spencer. You were still finding your footing in the group, trying to be useful to the group without saying the wrong thing, “The unsub is patient, willingly waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Could be revenge,”

“You're on the right track, pumpkin,” Garcia starts clicking another picture onto the screen, “That leads us to our next victim, Detective Luther Hodges from a different precinct was abducted from his home, reported missing for two days before he was found in the same way as our last victim in a public park,” Garcia herself winces as she looks at the pictures of the body strung up to a children's playground, “However this time our unsub left a witness, Hodge’s seven year old daughter, Lucy,” 

“If he left her as a witness, it could mean that he used her as a way to get him to leave willingly,” Spencer started, eyes squinting as he viewed the screen, “or he’s simply… devolving,”

“You’re absolutely right, boy genius,” Garcia starts, clicking the remote again to reveal a final body, causing the group to gasp. On the screen was Federal Agent Angela Barnett in the same position as the others. “One of our own, Angela Barnett was taken from a grocery store she frequented, and only kept one day before she was found in this state.”

“He’s devolving and rapidly,” Hotch says, closing his file and standing up, “Garcia contact MPD and let them know we're coming,” he commands, causing Garcia to nod a quick “yes, sir,” before rushing out the office, “I want to be out of here in ten,” he instructs the group, resulting in nods as everyone stands and begins collecting their things. 

“Hey,” Spencer calls from beside you gently, his voice close to being a whisper, “do you want to ride with me? I just got this new audiobook on the evolving traditions of the Amish and Mennonites on the East Coast,” he offers you a small smile that you can't help but mirror. 

“Oh, uh,” you look down, you know you’ve been pulling away but you can't help it, “Yeah, that sounds… interesting,”

Spencer can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he nods gently, cheeks tinged pink as he picks up his bag from the floor, “Great, I’ll see you then.”

The car ride was awkward to say the least, Spencer glancing over at you every five seconds as you started out the window, watching the passing trees. You drowned out the audiobook, too focused on wanting the car ride to be over that you didn't notice when Spencer had cut it off. 

“Is everything okay?” He spoke up, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as he kept his vision focused on the road. 

“Yeah,” you sat up, looking over at him and scratching the back of your neck, “I’m fine,”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, “You’ve just been… different with me. If I did anything, I’m sor-”

“You didn't do anything,” you cut him off, “I didn't realize I had been acting different,” you lied quickly, earning a scoff from him, “What?”

“The amount of conversations we have daily has been on the decline since February, decreasing by 4 percent daily in the last two weeks,” Spencer let slip casually, his own tone colder than intended, “Hard thing to not realize, especially for someone like you,”

“Someone like me?” You questioned, arms crossing defensively across your chest. 

“Someone smart,” Spencer looked over at you, “And I’m not stupid either, by the way. I would appreciate it if you just told me you didn't want to be friends outside of work instead of avoiding me like I’m the plague.”

You were silent for a beat, looking down at your hands, fingers intertwined with each other. You never understood why you got this way, why romantic feelings caused you to turn in on yourself. All you wanted to do was run, jump out of the car, scream, so you did the next best thing, “I’d prefer if we kept our relationship strictly professional,” your voice came out quieter than you would have liked. 

Spencer felt his stomach drop as his breath caught in his throat. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he cleared his throat, swallowing harshly before replying, “Okay.”

The rest of the ride was uneventful, Spencer turned back on the audiobook and you allowed the blood to rush to your ears, drowning out the rest of the noise. The night was much busier than anticipated, all law enforcement officers on edge with the rise of a serial killer that put targets on their back. 

You spent a majority of the case avoiding Spencer, opting to partner with Derek on interviewing witnesses while JJ and Spencer built a geographical profile. When it was time to deliver the profile, you stayed back, only offering minimal input. 

Then, you found him: Jacob Raines. Jacob Raines had been a former police officer who was let go due to his use of excessive force and brutality. His rage and anger in turn got geared towards law enforcement, blaming them for his pitfalls. 

Garcia found an abandoned warehouse registered in his name in the outskirts of the city, where he was most likely keeping his victims before murdering him. The team dispatched to the warehouse, with you, Spencer and Morgan, entering first. 

You wouldn't have entered without backup if it wasn't for the sounds of screams coming from inside, and Spencer rushing in first. As if on instinct you followed after him, gun raised as you cleared behind him towards the screams. In the middle of the warehouse was a police officer still in uniform, tied to a chair with a tear stained face. She was crying as she plead for Spencer to untie her. As he worked to undo the knots you heard footsteps, causing you and Spencer to stand up abruptly. In front of Spencer was a 6 foot man, weapon raised and aimed right at him with his finger on the trigger. Based on the profile, you knew he would shoot and you knew he wouldn't think twice. He planned this, he knew the BAU would come for him and he wanted to take out as many people as he could. 

As if on instinct you pushed Spencer out of the way, a bullet aimed for his kelvar vest had made impact with your shoulder, piercing through it as you hit the cold concrete. Spencer was stunned but got up in enough time to take three shots at the unsub who had his weapon aimed and ready to shoot again. The unsub fell with a loud thud, but Spencer turned back to lean down next to your body that was growing increasingly colder. A puddle of blood had began to form underneath you and while it was clear it didn't hit any major organs, you were still bleeding out rapidly. 

Through the ringing in your ears you could here Spencer’s pained and rush voice signal over the radio, “Officer down, need medical, gunshot wound to the shoulder.”

His voice and hands were shaking as he applied pressure to the wound with his palm, as he urged you, “keep your eyes open,” he pleaded with you, “just stay awake until they get here,” he begged. But you were so tired, and your eyes were getting heavier, so you let them close. 

And everything went black. 

[kira-fluff]

I saw the “Sleeping with no pants on” headcanon and was wondering if you could do a pretty setter squad containing Atsumu, Kageyama and Akaashi please- ☁️

sleeping with no pants on | fem!reader x haikyuu!! [pt. 5]

a/n: i was not expecting everyone to be so obsessed with this prompt but I am LIVING for it. I love you guys so much 🩷 p.s. my lovely, atsumu is actually in pt. 1, but I'm going to switch for twinnie osamu, okay? 💕 also I'm so sorry i was gone for so long. busy busy busy working 3 jobs with college. forgive me if I'm a bit rusty. tw: sorta spicy idk

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

osamu miya "hey, 'samu, 'samu." "hm." he replied in a grunt. "'m tired." the two of you had stayed up the entire night trying out new recipes that osamu had thought of when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. so, now here you were at midnight, sprawled out on the couch, exhausted. "'n go 't sleep." "don' wanna drive home." "'n stay." you murmured an acknowledgement, then began slipping off your pants. osamu immediately sobered from his tiredness. "wait, the hell are ya doin'?!" "'m goin' to bed, obviously." "ya can't just take yer pants off with a man in the house!" you let out a little scoff, "oh, get over it." but osamu's mind was already racing. he tried to act cool on the outside, but you were just in your fucking panties and acting like it was no big deal? why were you always so clueless around him??? did you really not see him as romantic material??? osamu couldn't help but stare at the round shape of your ass even as your long shirt covered you. he had scarcely time to begin devouring the sight of your legs when you cleared your throat. "are you.....staring... at me?" he cleared his throat and looked away. "...s-sorry.." you leaned in close, just below his ear. "ya know... if you really wanted it that badly, you could've said something.." you smirked, taking a blanket and covering up your lower half with a conceited smirk, walking away. "h-hey wait! the fuck did ya mean by that?!" he trailed behind eagerly. the rest of the night? well... "just friends" was no longer in either of your vocabulary anymore.

kageyama tobio you friends, after all, nothing more. and you didn't want to make it weird. weirder than it already felt having hidden feelings for your best friend. it getting late after a particularly long study session which involved you trying to drill basic math facts into a brain that only understood volleyball. it was a hopeless endeavor, but you took him getting anything above a "50" as a win. so, you continued to attempt to help him improve his grades. you supposed "attempt" wasn't necessarily the right word, as his scores were generally improving, but sometimes you found yourself wondering if there was really a point to it all after you spent the whole lesson trying to help him relearn everything he misunderstood in the lesson from that day. so here you were, exhausted, with your head down on your table at home, tobio sitting across from you. "hey, kageyama, let's just call it a night." he paused for a moment, then spoke. "....do you want to sleep with me?" if you had any liquid in your mouth, you're certain you would've had a comical spit take. "ah, um, WHAT?" you sputtered, trying to make sense out of what he said. he didn't mean it that way, did he? no, of course not. "it's... late." yep. just offering a place to stay. "it is. but there are still trains. i can take a late one." "just get in my bed." your eyebrows raised. "hey, tobio, a normal person would misunderstand what you just said..." he ignored you. "just sleep with me." your face took on a reddish hue the more times he said it... and he just didn't get it? why was he messing with your heart like this!?!? "um... there are different ways to say that. like... 'want to spend the night?'" "then, spend the night." "why are you being so pushy?" "because i like you." as a friend. yeah. we've been over this. "ok, ok, you've convinced me with the power of friendship. but I'm sleeping on the couch." "no." "yes." "no. my bed has enough room." "not for me!!" you laughed nervously. does this guy even have hormones? like, what the fuck? "....I'm going to go shower. I'll see you in my bedroom." does this guy not understand the meaning of no? still, you found yourself begrudgingly trudging over to his bed, especially after you saw his couch was made with the comfort of a burlap sack. I mean, if he offered, might as well take advantage right? what could go wrong? spoiler: everything goes wrong. you thought he was fast asleep. so, in the stealth of 1000 ninjas, you slid off your sweatpants for the sake of comfort. it wasn't weird, right? oh well. you were tired and damn did he like his room hot. you jumped when you felt him arms wrap around you. then, he stiffened. "...are you not wearing any pants?" "um... maybe..." he sighed. "are you trying to seduce me?" "n-no it's just more comfortable!" he turned you around so you were facing him. "well, whatever you're trying to do, it's working. I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep." "wait, is it because I'm making you uncomfortable?" he went silent for a moment. ".... you could say that." "I'll... just put them back on then. sorry. it's just that your room is really hot and-" "can I kiss you?" you blinked in disbelief. "can you what?" "kiss you" he answered without a beat. you spluttered some more as he slowly leaned it, asking for permission, silently this time. you nodded and closed your eyes. sparks flew as his lips moved against your own and you finally understood what he'd meant when he said "I like you". kageyama tobio was head over heels in love with you, and you hadn't a clue. until now. the two of you broke apart. "...can we... do that again?" he asked brazenly. you leaned forward again in reply.

akaashi keiji akaashi would rather die than confess to you the things he woke up at night fantasizing about. you'd likely be especially mortified if you discovered that one of your most embarrassing mishaps was on a frequent replay in akaashi's brain when he fell asleep. he was supposed to be a gentleman, not some gross pervert that looked at one of his best friends like... that. but since it was all in his dreams, it was impossible to "turn off" no matter how many times he tried to think about something else before he went to sleep. and so, let's recall The Incident shall we? he had come to your house late at night and knocked at the door, fully expecting to see you up and awake as it was the early evening. to his surprise, however, you answered the door groggily, eyes still bleary from exhaustion and sleep. the way you looked would be forever ingrained in his mind. you were blinking back the remnants of sleep, wearing one of his shirts. it hung low on you, but not low enough to cover your supple legs and the white panties that peeked out below the hem line of his shirt. you hadn't noticed yet, either. "... what d' ya need...?" you asked tiredly, rubbing your eye. akaashi swallowed harshly, his brain turned into complete mush. "uhh.. uhh...." goddamnit, MOVE YOUR EYES BACK UP TO HER FACE. were her legs always that long? STOP. when he still hadn't answered, you followed his gaze down to your lower half. he still remembers the succession of events as follows: you blushed, stammered, and then slammed the door in his face. you didn't talk to him for a week. after, you finally awkwardly explained that you sleep without your pants on and that you didn't realize you hadn't put anything on when you answered the door because you were so tired. it sucked that you ignored him. and even that you explained yourself. because all it did was bring those... memories... right back to the forefront of his mind. whenever he saw you in the hall and you'd flush and look away, he was immediately brought back to the sight of your bare legs. when you stumbled through your explanation, his mind reeled back to those white panties. and he hated it. what kind of friend looks at their friend that way? but he knew in his heart that what he was feeling for you was beyond sexual attraction when, in his dreams, you smiled at him. and told him you loved him. and so, what if he dreamt a little longer? hopefully you'd forgive him. and maybe someday he could tell you how you made him feel...

[cactusdrinkstea]

─ ‧ ִ ۫✭ Heart on his hand

Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

Summary: You studied with Riddle and decided to draw a heart on the back of his hand.

Word count: 1009

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It was another quiet studying session. Exams were coming soon and Riddle had to study to get the best grades possible. Anything below perfection would be a disgrace to him. He had started to be more gentle on himself and took breaks once in a while, but his focus was always set on perfect academic results. 

He usually studied on his own, but when you had asked him to do a study session together he didn't say no. Usually he didn't mind. He was used to giving help to others, although many couldn't withstand his tough studying regime. Many would already be done with him. It was thanks to you that he had tried to be more flexible with his studying plans. At first he was very strict and had to follow a specific schedule and amount of subjects, but when he started to notice the tired look on your face or hearing those soft yawns he realized maybe he had chosen the wrong approach. Thanks to that, now he saw actual progress in your grades. 

He knew he relished studying with you more than he would admit out loud. Sure, if he was asked about it he would say this was just a small favor for the sake of studying. After all, what kind of prefect had bad grades? He couldn't allow it. 

But if he had to be honest, he would say that he liked to spend time with you. These quiet moments without your chaotic duo of friends, or without that cat. Just the two of you in a quiet setting with the right flavor of tea at the right time. That was utter bliss. Not a singular noise aside from the occasional question. He loved it. Riddle knew it wasn't the most efficient way of studying, because more often than not, he was staring at you. Looking at your eyes and how sometimes your brows furrowed when you didn't understand something, or how your leg would bounce under the table occasionally, which he usually would find annoying on others but on you it was surprisingly endearing. 

Whenever he noticed he was starting to get distracted, he had to snap out of it and return his focus to his history notes. At this rate he would forget anything he read if he kept thinking about that errant hair strand of yours that he itched to fix with his own hands. Riddle’s focus went back to the papers, he was good at focusing and this was a piece of cake, nothing he couldn't handle. 

Perhaps he had focused too much on his notes, because by the time he felt something on the back of his hand, it was already too late. There was a heart, painted with black ink.

“What did you just do?” Riddle inquired, eyes squinting in displeasure at the sight of a small doodle on his skin. 

“It's a heart. You were so focused on your notes you didn't even feel me peel your glove” You replied with a grin on your face. 

How could he be so careless? He didn't even feel the ink with how focused his eyes were on the paper. Riddle didn't look pleased, having drawings on someone's body was extremely distasteful and inappropriate. 

“I don't recall giving you permission for such a childish thing” Riddle said, his eyes returning to the notes on his desk. 

“I thought you would like it, hearts are your thing aren't they? Sorry, I won't do it next time” You sheepishly apologized and went back to read. 

“It's fine. I won't collar you for this, I am not that savage. Just try to ask next time” He gently scolded you trying not to sound too harsh. It wasn't a terrible thing, of course he wasn't going to get mad. He also had his gloves. It would only take pulling them up to hide the silly heart doodle. 

The rest of the evening was uneventful and the studying session ended not so long after. You thanked him and left. Riddle went back to his usual schedule but his mind was elsewhere. 

He couldn't stop looking at the heart on his hand. It was just a heart made out of ink, nothing more. It didn't even look symmetrical, was it really that difficult to draw an even heart? He would need to correct your pulse because that was terrible. 

Even with those petty mistakes, the drawing was so endearing. He had never allowed someone to touch his skin in that way, he would nag at anyone who even dared to try. He still remembered the happy look on your face and your reply. You thought he would like it. It was dumb, such dumb thinking to even consider he would enjoy a foreign drawing of something as simple as a heart. The worst part was that he did! It felt special, as if you thought about him specifically to give him that. You even went through the effort of moving his glove. 

It was a shared secret between you two now. No one else would know the heart was under his dark gloves, just you and him, and that simple thought filled him with delight. A temporary gift from the prefect to him. 

Days went on and he attempted to make the inked heart stay intact there for as long as possible. He was careful every time he washed his hands, but no matter how careful he was, the heart would fade. It only lasted three days. He felt distraught when it was gone. 

Now how could he ask for another one? It would be mortifying to even request for such a thing. He was above childish drawings on his skin! He didn't even need one. Why would he ask again? 

“Today we are studying again. Don't be late, prefect” Riddle said to you one day, and he made a mental note to forget his gloves and bring red ink this time and keep it as close as possible. He hoped you would get the hint. 

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[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

First: I want to say that I LOVE your writing. Like when I requested something before and I saw you actually did it, I squealed. Reading your fics literally makes me some happy when I'm down.

Second: I was wondering if I could request another poly!Plastics fic with a Janis best friend reader. R was a bad home life (it can be abuse, neglect, detailed, or glossed over. Whatever you're comfortable with) and the girls, plastics and janis, start to notice it (Like R's behavior or clothe change or something). The girls team up and coast R into telling the truth. R ends up living with Janis (or regina if you want) and they all have a big sleepover at the end.

Now I did read your request rules and I know that you don't write abuse relationships and if family also falls under that category that's completely fine. You don't have to write this fic if it makes you uncomfy and if anything you can take the poly!Plastics fic with a Janis best friend reader idea and have a completely different plot.

Hope you have a good day.

Bruises and Cuddles

|| poly!plastics x fem!reader

(i myself am poly)

|| Warnings; swearing, hinted at abuse, injured reader

|| Summary; reader doesn't have the best home life in the world. As the girls and Janis begin to notice, they take matters into their own hands.

Requests open!

Started; August 31st

Finished; September 9th

slowly getting back into the posting grind 🫡

~~~

You had just walked into school, shoulders slumped and exhaustion etched in your features as you made your way to your locker. Which was right next to Janis', your best friend.

As you approached your locker Janis noticed your state right away with a grimace," you look like shit." Leave it to Janis to compliment you. Right?

Opening your locker, you sighed as you heard her words. It wasn't exactly the reminder you needed, you knew how you looked. You had pulled your hair into a messy bun, tried to cover the bags under your eyes with makeup but you weren't as skilled at that as your girlfriends so parts peaked out. Even your clothes looked sloppy.

"Gee, thanks, Jan." You responded, Janis had been noticing stuff like this from you for the last while now. Since the beginning of grade 10 you'd been coming to school looking like you had just escaped hell. She was starting to get suspicious, wondering about what your home life was really like behind whatever facade your parents put up whenever your friends were over.

"We hanging out later? Damian pirated some movies," Janis gave you a playful nudge as she smirked, pushing her worries to the side for now. Hoping that maybe at the least she could get you out of your house for a while.

You hadn't been listening until she nudged you, getting your attention. You blinked and looked at her," huh- what?"

"Movie night." Janis simplified, a frown on her face as she realized you really weren't doing well. Maybe this wasn't something she could just push aside for now.

"Oh, I can't tonight. Sorry." You replied, its not that you didn't want to. You really, really did. But your mom's been getting on your ass about being out late so often and grounded you over it. Honestly, a stupid reason for getting grounded. But you weren't about to argue with her. You knew better than to do that because of how she reacts whenever you do. Let's just say, she isn't winning the 'mother of the year' award anytime soon.

Janis watched you with studying eyes, a plan forming in the back of her mind. She had to get your girlfriends involved, as much as she wasn't the biggest fans of the plastics. She was sure that having them on her side for whatever this was would be better than going about it alone. "Right."

The bell rang.

"Well, see you when we see you." Janis gave a mock salute ad she walked off to class, you frowned as you watched her leave. Feeling bad for having turned down her offer. For the fourth time in a row that week. You haven't said why, you didn't want her to be concerned or take some reckless action. You knew Janis would try to sneak you out of your house or some shit and didn't need that.

Throughout the week, more instances like that would come up. It would either be one of your girlfriends who found you in an exhausted state, sometimes with a few bruises or Janis would be the one to see it.

One day, Regina had been the one to find you first and had enough of seeing you so beaten up and exhausted. Janis happened to be near by so she rounded her up first, then Gretchen and Karen.

Working together (shockingly) the plastics and Janis pulled you off to the bathroom after making sure no one was in there. They had briefly discussed a game plan beforehand, knowing this was a situation that needed a more gentler approach compared to how they (mostly Regina and Janis) normally handle things

"We gotta talk about.. this." Janis gestured to you with a frown, she didn't know how else to word it without being extremely blunt.

You looked beyond confused.

"But you just gestured to all of me?" Your arms folded across your chest as you glanced at Karen, who was watching you with a sad look. You tried having a silent conversation with her but she didn't pick up on any of your social cues. Maybe not the best one to get information from about whatever this was.

"We're worried you're not getting the right- parental care at home." Gretchen blurted out, Regina gave her a side eye and Gretchen looked at her apologetically. You sighed.

You should have guessed they would notice. It's not like you hid it that well either though. Should you lie? One look at Regina's gaze told you no. It's like she could read exactly what you were thinking. Swallowing thickly, you decided to go with the truth. Your eyes met Gretchen's, being too nervous to look at either Regina or Janis. They could get intense with things like this. And Karen just didn't understand.

"It's my mother." Simple. To the point. Confirmed everything the girls had suspected.

Gretchen's expression softened and she held her arms out to you, you easily went into her hold and relaxed as you felt her arms wrap around you. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Didn't want you guys to worry." Your words were muffled as your face buried into Gretchen's neck, holding her tight.

Regina and Janis shared a look. Almost as if having a silent conversation.

"That's it." Janis said, then both Regina and Janis said at the same time; "You're living with me."

They paused and narrowed their eyes at each other. You looked up at them in slight confusion as you saw them doing a very aggressive and intense game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who you would stay with. You were silently thankful they didn't make you pick.

"Ha! Suck it, bitch!" Janis threw her hands into the air. You assumed Janis won. Regina rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. You could just tell that she wasn't pleased in the slightest. Janis turned to look at you with a smile," You're gonna come live with me. No arguments."

You sighed but nodded, grateful for your friend.

And that's exactly what you did. You moved in with Janis' family, they welcomed you in much to your mom's distaste. She didn't approve of you leaving but your dad helped get you out. He didn't like how his wife treated you, so he gladly helped you leave.

The times after that were good. You were finally getting the proper rest you needed and your bruises healed. Whenever you weren't at Janis', you'd be with your girlfriends. Who always made sure to give you cuddles and comfort.

Despite your past, your future looked good. And you couldn't be happier with how things played out in the end.

~~~

Hoping to get back into my usual flow of writing. I think it sounds kind of close to it? I just haven't written in so long that it might be different and a little rushed. So apologies of it isn't as good as it could have been 🙏

[risuola]

07.12 — F. READER x GOJO SATORU, who hates his own birthday

cw: fluff. established relationship, maybe the tiniest bit of angst at the beginning? — 1,4k words

There is something about birthdays that Satoru never truly comprehended. Maybe it’s because his own mattered so little to him, that he found it hard to understand why other people were so sentimental about it and it always was that way. From the youngest days, he wasn’t exactly a child that was allowed to enjoy all of those little, human pleasantries. Everything that was obvious for his peers, to him was a foreign concept. He was treated as an adult at the age as little as 5 and cake and ribbons were simply never an option.

Then, high school came and one of his birthdays was really special – the one when him, Suguru and Shoko spent the entire day together, doing sweet little nothings and even though he insisted that it was just purely friendly meeting, he could feel the effect that day had on him. He was truly happy. It was in the middle of first year in Jujutsu tech, the first winter together with his former classmates. A year after that held no similar magic. Suguru was changed during the second year and then, he left and along with him, most of Satoru’s happiness was also gone.

Years passed and Gojo made it a habit to work on his birthday, to distract himself from the celebrative aura that he was so stubbornly avoiding. Sure, for Tsumiki or Megumi – each year he was preparing something special, but himself? No.

You met Satoru in January that year. Born and raised in Kyoto, you spent your life over there, supporting the Jujutsu tech in that city and right after new year you moved to Tokyo, by the order of Gakuganji. It was a big change for you but you were excited to finally meet the strongest sorcerer of the current era – the one that you’ve only heard stories about and never actually had a chance to meet in person. Once you’ve met him, you realized that everything that Utahime had told you wasn’t exactly true and you blamed it on their long-term love-hate friendship. To you, Gojo was just lovely.

It didn’t take long for the feelings to develop. Not even a month had passed and already you were unofficially dating. The countless dates you shared, hours of late-night talks and slowly introduced intimacy all led you to where you were now. In the apartment that you share with him, waiting for Gojo to come back from the mission. It was 7th of December, the day of his birthday and you know he’s not too fond of it, but you were determined to make it special for him.

“Are you coming?” You asked over the phone and you could hear Satoru exhaling. “The house feels too empty without you, love.”

“I have just one more curse to exorcise and I’ll be heading home,” he replied, his tone tenderly gentle. “It’s late already, it’s okay if you go to sleep, sweets.”

“I’ll wait. Miss you, ‘toru. See ya soon?”

“Alright, baby, I’ll be back as soon as I can, yeah?”

“Yeah. Till later.”

When Gojo entered the apartment, just barely an hour after the call, he was heavily relieved to notice that it’s only you in the house. Once he pulled the blindfold off his head, the very faint, dimmed light soothed his tired eyes.

“You’re home,” your voice, so soft and lovely, met his ears as he stepped in deeper.

“I am,” he said, studying your form that came into the picture when you joined him in the living area. “Sorry to keep you waiting, you’re probably tired from waiting, hm?”

“It’s fine,” you smiled and Satoru could’ve sworn that every time he sees your features turning into the ones of happiness, he feels all of his insides warm up. Was that what home felt like? He had no idea, but if so, he was sure you were his home. “Go wash your hands, maybe get more comfy and I’ll warm a dinner for you, how’s that sound?”

“Perfect. Sounds absolutely perfect,” he allowed himself to bend to your level, to reach your lips and you didn’t think twice before cradling his face into your soft palms, kissing him back. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he muttered, pulling away with great difficulty.

“I’ll wait,” yet another smile you gave him, absolutely breathtaking, so sweet that he could almost feel the taste of it on his tongue. “Go wash your hands. How about after you eat we go for a nice, hot bath?”

“You with me?” He just made sure and with a nod you confirmed. “I’m in. Absolutely. I’ll be back.”

He’s left you with a chuckle, almost running to bathroom and it’s got you all happy. And even more happy you were once Satoru ate the late dinner that you made just for him. He wouldn’t tell you, but you knew all too well that after a job like he had that day, he’s always hungry and usually, he’d grab some fast foods at his way home to satiate the initial hunger. He never wished for you to stay up late and wait for him with dinner. People usually consider him as silly and ignorant, but truth is, he’s the most caring person you’ve met in your life.

“That’s perfect,” Satoru nearly moaned when the two of you settled in the tub, you between his legs, leaning against his chest as his long arms were wrapped around your body. The water was pleasantly hot, bearing the softest scent of the bath soap, and he thought for a moment that it couldn’t possibly get better until your lips didn’t find the most sensitive spot on the side of his neck. You were gently nipping at his skin, spreading feathery touches all over his torso as you were cuddled tightly next to his heart. The already opened box of his favorite kikufuku was standing right next to the tub.

“Today is your birthday, Satoru,” you began, and immediately, the wave of tension washed over him. “I know you don’t like that day, but to me, it is important.”

“Why?” He asked, once again melting underneath your touch like a batter would when warmed up. “It’s a day like every other. Nothing good ever happened that day.”

“But it did. You were born and it’s only because of this, that I could meet you so many years later. Only because you were born, the kids were saved… Megumi, Tsumiki, Yuta, now Yuji. So many amazing things happened and I know that you never truly had a chance to celebrate it, so let me now celebrate it for you.”

“If you say so…”

“I wanted to keep it all quiet, to spend the time with you and celebrate you. Because to me, you are a gift and I know that there’s not much I could buy you, so I wanted to give you me.”

To Gojo, it meant more than you were probably able to imagine. Material things could never fill in the void inside of him, there was nothing he needed and he couldn’t buy himself. It was the emptiness in his heart that he felt is impossible to patch up and now, it suddenly felt okay. He felt complete and it’s all because of your presence in his life. And it felt warm, so fuzzy and pleasant to feel your mark inside of him.

“If you are the gift, I think I could enjoy that day from now on,” he smiled softly, leaning his head and capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

“I’m all yours, Satoru. My heart, my body, my soul… All of it is yours.”

“I think I couldn’t receive a bigger blessing,” his words vibrated against your mouth and a with a chuckle you realized that he feels the same about you, as you feel about him. “You know, for my entire life I forced myself to get used to being lonely. I thought it’s just how my life’s gonna look like. You’re born alone, live alone and die alone.”

“Now you’re not alone,” you told him, once again pressing your lips upon his own. “And I’ll stay for as long as you’ll let me.”

“Then please, stay with me until the day I die.”

“You got this,” it was a whisper, but Gojo heard it clearly. It was so quiet, but for him it meant the world.

[faeskiss]

MY EVERYTHING ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Zaros x reader!

I am not a stranger to weary days, in fact I’ve been nothing but weary for the past couple of weeks…

I cannot for the life of me recall the last time I could peacefully allow myself to lay my head down and give in to sleep, it’s been so long since I’ve had a pleasant dream, cruel and unbearable ones plague me instead, making my nights excruciatingly miserable.

How am I supposed to study and give it my all in the trials if I’m not well rested? Everything in life worries me and I feel utterly powerless, it’s funny actually, how can an earis, someone who’s birthright is power itself, feel devoid of it? It’s all just a big joke

I can clearly hear the storm outside grow worse and worse, lightning cracks and rumbles relentlessly, I usually enjoy rain, but this, this is absolutely terrifying and it’s fuelling my unease by the second

I keep tossing and turning, trying to breathe and collect my thoughts, but it’s no use, it seems my own mind hates me just as much as everyone else.

After a few more torturous moments of pure agony I decide to go outside, I know the storm is raging and growing like wildfire but I can’t stand to be cooped up in my room like this…

I step outside of my room and as soon as I do I am met with a breeze that’s fervently cold, the walls of this palace echo the rage of the storm, it’s truly a ghastly night

I pull my shawl closer to me and wrap my hands inside of it, trying to grasp whatever warmth I can, I slowly pace the halls, passing various rooms, my feet can’t help but abruptly stop in their tracks…

I find myself standing just outside of Zaros’s room and a wave of nostalgia washes over me, I remember all the times we hid from the uproar of the sky, he HATED storms..

I don’t know what’s happening, but it feels like I’m not in control of my reflexes, I immediately go up to the door and knock, knowing full well someone might see or hear me, knowing I’d regret it later

“The earis invited themselves into Zaros’s room the other night, it seems his notorious ways are finally rubbing off on them, what a shame”

Heaven knows what other things these nobles would say, why don’t I ever learn?

The horror of what I’ve done suddenly seeps into me, and before I can even turn around to save face, I am much too late

He opens the door….his green eyes look tired and worn down, the usual charm and gleam is missing in them

“Uhm…..hello?” He asks, obvious confusion painted on his face

I clear my throat, and try to answer

“H-Hello, I- uhm” I reply, absolutely failing to come up with an excuse as to why I am here, in the dead of night, unannounced, barely decent

“You are the last person I would ever expect to show up at my door, in the thick of night” he says with a soft, unexpected laughter

“Trust me, I am just as confused as you are” I reply with a faint laugh

“It seems that I’m finally rubbing off on you huh?” he says slyly

“Oh please! it’s not like that, I-‘’ before I can finish my sentence a loud clap of thunder booms and reverberates through the halls, startling us both

“I JUST don’t want to be alone, during this outpour…….I’m sorry but I just didn’t know where else to go” I say, surprising myself

His eyes soften, and a warm, empathetic smile forms on his face, something I thought I’d never see from him, ever again…

All of a sudden, he reaches for my hand, gently and slowly pulls me in the room, and I just let him

He then shuts the door behind us

I cannot believe that I’m in Zaros Atha’llin’s room……..at night…… the nobles would have a field day if they ever caught wind of this, but the truth is, that I don’t care, when I know I should and that gravely concerns me

“Look, I’m so very sorry I interrupted your sleep, I didn’t-“ I say

“It’s okay, I was awake anyways” he cuts me off

“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask

“You of all people should know how much I loathe storms” he adds

“How can I ever forget” I reply softly

“I see you haven’t grown to like them either”

“Ha! Never” I reply

“I think we should sit down” he says as he moves towards the bed

“ah yes, of course” I reply as I follow him

I seat myself beside him, another frantic wave of nostalgia crashes against me, I always sat next to him back in school….

“I know there’s something troubling you, something other than the storm” he says in a calm yet stern voice

“I- I just” I try to reply, but I just can’t, it’s quite abnormal being vulnerable to him, the last time him and I had a heart to heart was quite simply a lifetime ago

“Please do not feel obligated to talk about it, take your time” he says

“I just have the worst, most obscene amount of anxiety these days, and it only gets worse and worse as the weeks pass” I reply, this took a lot of courage and valour, it took all the strength in me to even say these words to someone

“I-I understand you more than you might ever know, it seems that these trials have not been kind to either of us, the stakes are unachievable and the water’s rough, you are not alone, I feel it too” he says in a somber tone, his expression is filled with gloom

His words shoot right at my heart, making me feel understood and protected, I would have never imagined that anything he’d said would have this affect on me, but I don’t despise it, not even a little bit

“I wouldn’t wish this entire ordeal on my worst enemy…..which,would be you I suppose” he ends his sentence with a unexpected burst of laughter, which in turn makes me laugh too

“I suppose so” I reply, giggling like a child

Me and Zaros, actually laughing together, as if nothing’s ever changed, I never would’ve imagined

“From best mates who are absolutely inseparable to enemies who are fighting for the throne, how the tides change” he says, looking directly at my face, I am unsure of the intention behind his tone

“It’s all written in the stars, what can us mere mortals do about it?” I reply, fidgeting with my fingers

Silence creeps into the space between us for a few moments, it’s absurdly comforting, sitting next to him, I can feel his warmth, it’s familiar and safe, it feels like home….he feels like home

“I cannot believe that I’m actually about to say this, but I feel as if I have to, for my own sanity” he says

“What are you trying to say?” I reply, puzzled as ever

“I-I really wish I never left, I wish I stayed by your side, I wish I never lost the eight years I could have had with you” he says, desperation laced in his voice

I look at him with wide eyes and shock painted on my face, I have a very strange feeling that I know what he’s about to say

“Zaros, plea-“ I try to interrupt him

“No, just don’t!” he snaps

“I have felt this way for quite a while now, and sometimes, it’s all I can think about, I wish we never had that wretched fight in the first place!” He exclaims

I am left utterly speechless by his words, nothing could have ever prepared me for this

“I really wanted you to trust me more!” he adds

That sets me off, how can he ever expect me of all people to trust him? After his relentless insults and torments, he is so delusive

“Don’t start!” I snap

“What? Are you that scared of the truth?” he interrupts

“Well you have not made it easy for me, have you now?” I sneer as I jolt up, out of the bed

“What do you mean?” he replies as he gets up

“How in the name of Gods can you expect me to trust you after everything that’s happened? You agreed to contest against me, we are competing AGAINST each other or have you forgotten? How can I trust you any which ways? You are my rival!” I say with all the anger my voice can muster

“I had no.other.choice” he replies sternly

“And besides is that all I am to you? Just a rival, an enemy you want to overthrow? Or did you forget us and everything we were before our fallout, did all that mean nothing to you? You are deeply imbedded in all my memories, all my feelings, all my thoughts, there isn’t a corner in my soul where I can’t find you….you, you were everything to me, still are” he says

I want to absolutely scream at his words, he can’t just say that and the worst part is I can’t decide if I’m angry with him or yearning for him

“Please….don’t do this” I say, almost in a whisper, my voice shakes a bit

“How much longer are you going to pretend that you were never in love with me?” he snaps

I can feel my heart stop, my mind starts to fog up and I can barely breathe, a dull, crushing gust of pain swims across my chest…that is until I feel a violent rush of anger flow through me, red and fiery

“You…“ I rage

“I-I’m sorry, I went too far, I shouldn’t have-“ he says

“And you want me to “trust” you, I should’ve never come here in the first place” the hurt in my voice is evident and loud, and I might just burst into tears any second

I abruptly turn and sprint to the door, but before I can open it, he yanks my hand and pulls me to him

“I am so sorry, I know I’ve crossed way too many lines, I am a reckless fool, please forgive me, please stay” he says in the most desperate tone I have ever heard

“Give me one good reason why” I hiss

“I can’t” he replies

“I know I’ve caused you nothing but pain ever since I came back, I can see it on your face every single second, minute and hour I am near you, I have no excuse and no reason, I-I won’t force you to stay or do anything you don’t want to, but just know, how very sorry I am, for it all, we don’t even have to speak if that’s what you want, I care about you way more than I can ever express and I can’t handle seeing you so upset, I won’t hurt you, ever again, I promise, no matter what happens after the trials, it won’t change how I feel about you, nothing ever will” he says

I don’t reply, not because I don’t want to but because I just do not know how, my heart is heavy with a feeling I’d rather not feel, especially not for him, but I can not help it

“I don’t expect you to forgive me and-“

I don’t know what comes over me, but I wrap my arms around him in frantic desperation, as if he’s going to run away from me, as if I’m going to lose him all over again…

He slowly envelopes me in his arms, it’s very gentle, I can feel his heartbeat against my own, his warmth is infectiously addicting, I could practically fall asleep like this

“Don’t ever leave me, ever again, do you understand?” I assert

“I promise you with all my heart, I am never going away, my sweet earis” he replies in a soft, honeyed tone as he places a kiss on my cheek

“Zaros” I call to him as I pull away

“Yes?” He replies as he looks at me eagerly

“I have something very important to confess” I say

“What is it?” he replies as his expression grows more serious

“I am so very sorry I called you a leech” I say, not being able to hold back the mischievous smile forming on my face

At that we both erupt into laughter, and I embrace him once again, feeding off of his warmth

“And I’m sorry I called you a palace brat…though you still kind of are one” he says in a playful mocking manner

“Oh please , you love it” I reply in a calm, unbothered tone, my head resting his shoulder

“Yes, yes I do” he replies as he holds me tightly in his arms

[indigenous-character-tournament]

Would you say that the indigenous people including Chel from The Road to El Dorado are Muisca, considering that the myth of El Dorado came from wishful thinking of greedy conquistadors wanting more gold after "discovering" the Muisca people and the Golden Man or El Hombre Dorado?

My issues with The Road to El Dorado are pretty numerous and the portrayal of the Indigenous people of El Dorado is at the center of it. Colombia is my home country and while I am not Muiska, I am Indigenous to Colombia (Iku Arhuaco) and it is what I plan to do in my graduate studies. Now I don't have the time to really like, put sources since this is going straight from the mouth. (Also rip english in case i mess up)

To answer your question before I delve into it, I would say no, that I would not consider them Muiska. The people of El Dorado bear little resemblance to the actual Muiska, be it historical or now, other than the tie between El Dorado and the Muiska people. I will say that I also won't accept any submissions from the movie as well.

Chel and her people are quite divorced from what the Muiska culture is. I've seen many people even confuse it with more Mesoamerican tribes.

The only one who truly wears gold is the zipa, such as shown in the middle image (Tisquesusa) and the legend of El Dorado comes from the ceremony at Lake Guatavita, where it was said the zipa would cover himself in gold dust and make offers to gods.

The true clothing worn is actually plentiful. As skilled weavers of cotton and sheep wool, the clothing focuses on geometrical and animal-based designs that were sacred. There is little to see in any of the designs, and in the case of Chell, she is barely clothed which is definitely not something that bodes well representation-wise considering how sexualized she is.

The architecture is completely different as well, with no true reference to what it actually looks like:

What is most important to realize is that there are still Muiska people in Colombia today, and there was no input from them in the movie at all.

It's an issue a lot of these movies had and it made them worse. I could probably go on for much longer, but I should probably cut this down. But yeah, I wouldn't consider them Muiska. (Sorry for the late reply it has been like a solid few months since this asks lmao)

[tamayula-hl]

All thanks to Clip Studio Paint's 3D dolls! These dolls have saved me a lot of time and effort in drafting and composing… I can't draw without them anymore🤣

And actually, the more I draw, the more I enjoy improving my drawing, so lately I've been sacrificing sleep and food to draw 🥹 I'll try to take care of myself to the extent that I don't get sick 🤣

Aww, thanks for those kind words! I started studying recently because I love those gentle colors and gradations that can only be expressed by hand-painted watercolors, and I really enjoy painting them! There are so many things I want to paint in watercolor, so please keep an eye on my training 🥹💞

I'm so glad so many people can relate to how attractive the Yandere and possessive Slytherins are 😆💕. And of course I would love to draw more! I'd like to draw some kind of spicy and dark smut, but I've already drawn a Yandere-like smut with this and that, so it's hard to come up with a new story 🤣 But I hope to draw something about them soon 💪

Thank you! I'm not sure I understand what you are saying with my poor English, you mean how much more Yandere and Dark can ominis be?😳✨ In my headcanon, I envision Ominis as a less aggressive, conservative, self-sacrificing Yandere compared to Seb, but when, for example, the Gaunt family tries to harm MC or MC is in danger, I want him to be dark, cunning and aggressive to any extent!🤭🤭🤭 Sorry if I misread your English and gave a misguided answer 😭🙏

Sorry I forgot to reply to your Ask for over two months 😭🙏. And I am very honored to receive your compliments! To be honest, I still find it very difficult to paint and represent these people who lived in Britain and Scotland at the end of the 19th century, but on the other hand, it's very interesting to learn about the western culture of the time! I will continue to draw various Ominis in the future 😆💪✨.

I would like to take this opportunity to say that I think there are a lot of Ask's that I forgot to reply to when I just created this Tumblr account. I was new to Tumblr back then and didn't really understand the Ask 😭 I'm sorry if anyone is disappointed that you took the time to send me an Ask. But I read all the texts I received with full of joy! Thank you so much after all!

[muiitoloko]

hi!! I love your works, would it be possible for you to do one about Eli? Where he has one student that he likes the most but then (reader) starts new and he's immediately obsessed with her? And the other student gets super jealous but (reader) has no idea it's even going on

Title: Punctuality.

Summary: Punctual was everything you were not, Eli realized.

Pairing: Eli Michaelson × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mention of teacher-student relationship, jealousy, obsession.

Author's Notes: Hey, sorry this isn't exactly what you asked for, but I just had to get this idea out of my head 😭 I've been mulling over it for weeks, and finally had the motivation to put it down on paper. Your request actually gave me the push I needed, so thanks for that!

First and Second part here.

Also read on Ao3

Eli Michaelson stood at the front of the lecture hall, his voice commanding and confident as he delivered his lecture on advanced organic chemistry. He relished the attention, especially from Elize, one of his favorite girlfriends. With her, things were straightforward — she wanted to be fucked, and he wanted to fuck. Their arrangement was mutually beneficial, until a new student disrupted the status quo.

You arrived late that day, looking older than the other students, about 27 years old. You shuffled in with a sheepish expression, an old backpack slung over your shoulder. Eli frowned slightly at the interruption but composed himself, deciding to assert his authority.

"Late on your first day, I see. What's your excuse?" Eli's voice was laced with thinly veiled annoyance as he addressed you.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of Eli's scrutiny as all eyes in the lecture hall turned towards you. "I'm sorry for being late," you began, your voice steady despite your nerves. "I got held up with an unexpected situation at work."

Eli raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And what is your name?"

"I'm [Your Name]," you replied, meeting his gaze with a hint of defiance. "I'm here to study chemistry."

Eli smirked, a touch of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Well, Miss [Your Name], welcome to my class. I trust you'll catch up on what you missed. Take a seat."

You nodded, feeling the weight of Eli's dismissal as you quickly found an empty desk. You could sense the curiosity and judgmental glances from your new classmates, who were undoubtedly wondering about the older student who seemed out of place.

As the lecture continued, Eli's attention drifted back to Elize, who was sitting in the front row. He couldn't deny the allure of her gaze, the way she hung onto his every word with a mix of adoration and desire. Their relationship was uncomplicated — she satisfied his physical needs, and he provided her with fleeting moments of pleasure and affection.

But something about your presence lingered in Eli's mind. There was a depth to your eyes, a seriousness that was lacking in the younger students. He found himself stealing glances at you, observing your reactions to his lecture, and noting the furrow of your brow as you absorbed the complex material.

During a break, Eli approached you, his steps confident as he leaned against the edge of your desk. "So, Miss [Your Name], what made you decide to return to academia at this stage in your life?"

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze evenly. "I've always had a passion for chemistry. Circumstances just delayed my pursuit of it."

Eli nodded, studying you intently. "I see. Well, chemistry is a demanding field. Are you prepared for the challenges ahead?"

"I am," you replied firmly, your expression unwavering.

Eli chuckled softly, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Good. I like determination. It's a rare trait among my students. But don't be late any longer, okay?"

"Yes, sir, Professor, sir!" You responded with a wave, and Eli pursed his lips into a tight smile.

Over the next few weeks, you settled into the rhythm of Eli Michaelson's lectures. You were diligent in your studies, absorbing every bit of knowledge he imparted and excelling in your assignments. Despite your promising academic performance, punctuality remained a constant challenge.

One day, Eli found you rushing into the lecture hall, a harried expression on your face. He stood at the front, arms crossed with a look of disapproval.

"Late again, [Your Name]," he stated flatly, his voice cutting through the chatter of the students.

You hurried to your seat, flustered. "I'm sorry, Professor Michaelson. There was a traffic jam on the way here."

Eli sighed, shaking his head. "Traffic jam, unexpected meetings, a sick cat — your excuses are becoming increasingly imaginative. If you want to stay in my class, I expect you to be punctual."

"I understand, Professor," you replied earnestly. "I promise it won't happen again."

But despite your promise, the pattern continued. You were brilliant, a genius even, and you grasped the material effortlessly. However, the concept of punctuality seemed elusive to you. Eli grew frustrated, but he couldn't deny the brilliance you brought to the class.

Week after week, you pushed the boundaries of Eli's patience with your chronic lateness. On one particularly frustrating day, Eli intercepted you at the entrance of the lecture hall.

"[Your Name], this is becoming a habit," Eli said firmly, blocking your path. "What's your excuse this time?"

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. "I overslept, Professor. I lost track of time studying last night."

Eli raised an eyebrow. "Studying? Interesting excuse. You're a talented student, [Your Name], but talent alone won't get you far if you can't manage basic timekeeping."

"I know, Professor," you said, hanging your head in shame. "I'm trying, I really am."

Eli regarded you for a moment, his expression softening slightly. "I believe you are. Just... try a little harder. You have potential, but you need to apply yourself consistently."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I will, Professor. I won't let you down again."

As the semester progressed, you made a concerted effort to improve your punctuality. There were still occasional slip-ups, but overall, you managed to strike a balance between your studies and your other commitments. Eli noticed the effort and gradually became more tolerant of your occasional lateness.

Eli wrote on the board, his attention focused solely on the task at hand until the sudden commotion in the lecture hall pulled him out of his reverie. He turned around, his curiosity piqued by the mention of a fire in the city center.

As he scanned the room, he noticed a group of students huddled together, their eyes glued to a cell phone screen. A sense of irritation prickled at the back of Eli's mind as he watched them, his disdain for distractions evident in the furrow of his brow.

But before he could reprimand the students for their lack of focus, you interrupted, your hand raised urgently in the air. Eli's irritation ebbed slightly as he turned his attention to you, curious about what you had to say.

"Yes, [Your Name]? Do you have something to add?" Eli's voice was clipped, his impatience evident as he addressed you.

"Professor Michaelson, please," you pleaded, your voice tinged with desperation. "I really need to go to the bathroom."

Eli's expression hardened, his annoyance palpable as he regarded you with thinly veiled disdain. "Can't it wait, [Your Name]? We're in the middle of a lecture."

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the eyes of your classmates boring into you. "I... I must have eaten something bad," you admitted, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I really need to go."

A ripple of laughter erupted from some of the students, and you could feel the heat of their judgment burning into your skin. Eli closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Fine," he relented, his voice heavy with irritation. "Go. But make it quick."

With a sense of relief washing over you, you hastily gathered your belongings and made a beeline for the exit, ignoring the snickers and whispers that followed in your wake. As you disappeared through the door, the lecture hall fell into a restless silence, the students turning their attention back to their cell phones and the latest news updates.

Eli watched you go, a mixture of annoyance and begrudging respect flickering in his eyes. Despite your constant tardiness and occasional disruptions, there was no denying your dedication to your studies. Perhaps there was more to you than met the eye.

As the students resumed their distracted chatter, speculation about the cause of the fire in the city center mingling with rumors of Spider-Man's imminent appearance, Eli rolled his eyes in exasperation. The hero worship surrounding the masked vigilante grated on his nerves, a constant reminder of the city's misplaced priorities.

With a sigh, Eli returned his attention to the lecture, determined to salvage what remained of the class despite the mounting distractions. But as he spoke, his thoughts drifted back to you, the enigmatic student who seemed to defy his expectations at every turn. There was something about you that intrigued him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

As the lecture drew to a close, Eli expected you to return, but the minutes passed and you didn't reappear. Uncharacteristically distracted, he dismissed the class, his thoughts lingering on your sudden departure. In his personal office that afternoon, Eli found himself preoccupied, absently staring out the window as Elize sat on his lap, kissing his neck.

"Why so distant today, Eli?" Elize's voice was playful, tinged with irritation. "What's on your mind?"

Eli sighed, torn between his curiosity about you and Elize's persistent affection. "It's nothing, Elize. Just thinking about a student."

Elize raised an eyebrow, her annoyance palpable. "Oh? The one who ran out to the bathroom during your lecture? You're really fixated on her, aren't you?"

Eli tensed slightly, his mind racing. "It's not like that, Elize. I'm just... curious."

Elize scoffed, a hint of jealousy coloring her tone. "Curious? You were never this interested in any of your students before, not her type at least. What's so special about her?"

Eli avoided her gaze, his thoughts scattered. "I don't know. There's just something... intriguing."

Elize shook her head, her frustration evident. "Maybe she was just stuck in the bathroom or something. It happens."

But before Eli could respond, he was drawn to the news that was playing on his TV. The reporter was talking excitedly about how Spider-Man had once again saved the day, rescuing people from a burning building. The footage showed Spider-Man in action, effortlessly swinging between buildings, saving civilians, and even helping to put out the fire with a fire hose.

"Spider-Man," Eli growled, his expression darkening as he watched the hero being revered by the whole city.

Elize noticed the change in his demeanor. "Why do you hate Spider-Man so much, Eli?" she asked cautiously. "Are you jealous of the attention he gets?"

Eli rolled his eyes, pushing Elize off his lap. "Leave, Elize," he snapped. "I'm not in the mood to fuck today."

Elize's eyes narrowed in anger. "You're always in the mood to fuck," she retorted, crossing her arms.

"Not with you this time," Eli replied coldly, his gaze fixed on the TV screen. "Leave."

Elize huffed, her frustration evident as she got up from the couch and stormed out of the room, muttering under her breath.

Alone again, Eli stared at the TV screen, his thoughts consumed by Spider-Man's heroic actions. He resented the fact that Spider-Man, the so-called friendly neighborhood hero, was adored by everyone while he, Eli Michaelson, a renowned chemistry professor and successful scientist, often felt underappreciated. The contrast between Spider-Man's public acclaim and his own more private achievements gnawed at him, feeding into his already deep-seated arrogance and narcissism.

With a heavy sigh, Eli turned off the TV and leaned back in his chair, his mind drifting back to you once again. He couldn't decipher why he was so fixated on you. Was he attracted to you? That much was a little obvious; you were his type. But there was more to it — you were a mystery, always arriving late, almost always interrupting class. Like today, when you went to the bathroom and didn't come back. Why didn't you come back?

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Eli refocused on the task at hand. He had a class to teach, and despite his distracted state, he couldn't afford to let his students down.

The next morning, you woke up tired, your alarm blaring loudly, jolting you out of a fitful sleep. Groaning sleepily, you reached out to silence the noise, your body protesting the abrupt awakening. It felt like you had just closed your eyes before you were yanked back into consciousness. You sat up reluctantly, still dressed in your Spider-Man costume from the night before, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to your skin.

With a heavy sigh, you stumbled out of bed, your limbs feeling leaden as you trudged towards the bathroom. The thought of a hot shower beckoned, promising to wash away the exhaustion clinging to your bones. But before you could even consider stripping off your costume, your phone rang, the shrill sound piercing the early morning silence.

Cursing under your breath, you shot a web to catch the phone, fumbling to answer the call. Squinting at the screen, you groaned when you saw it was a police alert — the bank was being robbed. Who robs a bank so early in the morning? Did bad people not sleep?

Despite your exhaustion, duty called. With a resigned sigh, you quickly checked your web-shooters, ensuring they were fully charged and ready for action. You didn't have time to waste; innocent lives could be at risk.

Frantically searching your cluttered apartment, you finally found your mask and quickly put it on. Becoming Spider-Man was a familiar transformation by now, one you had grown accustomed to. You grabbed your backpack, shoving everything you needed for class inside, and jumped out of the window of your apartment.

Swinging through the waking city of New York, you webbed your backpack onto a nearby building to retrieve later. You zipped through the air towards the location of the bank being robbed, your senses alert to any danger.

Arriving at the scene, you landed on a nearby rooftop and surveyed the situation below. The robbers were armed and had hostages. You knew you had to act fast. With a fluid motion, you swung down from the rooftop, landing silently amidst the chaos.

"Look, it's Spider-Man!" someone in the crowd exclaimed, their voice full of awe and relief. "Thank goodness you're here!"

You ignored the misidentification — it was easier to hide your identity if people thought Spider-Man was a man, not a woman. You focused on the task at hand, webbing the guns out of the hands of the robbers before they could react. With swift and precise movements, you incapacitated the criminals and freed the hostages, ensuring they were safely away from danger.

Within minutes, the police arrived to take the robbers into custody. You nodded at them, your job done for now. You glanced at your watch — you were definitely late for Professor Michaelson's class again.

Swinging back to the building where you left your backpack, you retrieved it and quickly changed out of your Spider-Man costume. You needed to get to class as quickly as possible.

Back in the lecture hall, Eli Michaelson paced back and forth, his impatience growing with every passing minute. The students were all seated, waiting for the lecture to begin, but one seat remained empty — yours.

"Late again," Eli muttered to himself, his frustration evident in his tone. He was about to start the lecture without you when the door burst open, and you hurried in, slightly out of breath but determined. "Late again, Miss [Your Name]," he stated flatly, his arms crossed as he addressed you. "What's your excuse this time?"

You hurried to your seat, setting down your backpack before turning to face him. "I'm sorry, Professor Michaelson. I got held up by some construction work on the highway."

Eli raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Construction work? Every time you're late, there's a new excuse. I'm starting to think you're making them up."

You shook your head, trying to catch your breath. "No, Professor, I promise it's true. There was a long line of cars backed up for miles."

Eli sighed, his impatience evident. "I understand life happens, but you need to find a way to manage your time better. This is becoming a habit."

"I know, Professor. I'm sorry," you replied earnestly, avoiding his piercing gaze.

Eli regarded you for a moment, his expression softening slightly. "I can appreciate dedication to your studies, but punctuality is a basic expectation. Are you having trouble with time management?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "I'm doing my best, Professor. It won't happen again."

Eli's gaze narrowed, his voice firm. "It better not. You're a talented student, [Your Name], but this chronic lateness is testing my patience. You need to step up and be more responsible."

"I will, Professor," you promised, determination flickering in your eyes.

Eli nodded once, his posture relaxing a fraction. "Good. I expect to see an improvement next time. Now, let's not waste any more time. Today's topic is the mechanisms of nucleophilic addition to carbonyl compounds. Open your textbooks to page 236."

Throughout the lecture, Eli kept a close watch on you, noting your focused attention and the way you diligently took notes. Despite your tardiness, he couldn't deny your dedication to understanding the material. As the class progressed, Eli found himself more intrigued by your presence, your intelligence shining through despite your struggle with punctuality.

Eli continued his lecture, his voice methodical and precise as he explained the mechanisms of nucleophilic addition to carbonyl compounds. You diligently copied down the chemical formula he wrote on the blackboard, fully engrossed in the subject matter despite the occasional distraction.

Suddenly, something small hit the back of your head. You turned around to see Elize and her friends giggling, trying to stifle their laughter. Elize, who had been teasing you since your first day, tossed another small ball of paper at you. You caught it, your brow furrowing in annoyance.

"Hey nerd," Elize called out loud enough for the nearby students to hear. "Why are you always late to class? Don't you own a watch?"

Her friends joined in, snickering and making comments about how they should buy you a watch. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, frustrated by their childish antics. It reminded you of being back in high school, teased for being nerdy and always having your head in a book.

You sighed softly, trying to maintain your composure. Despite your powers and the confidence you felt as Spider-Man, here you were, still feeling like that same old nerd. You decided not to respond, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing you upset.

Eli paused mid-lecture, glancing back at the commotion. He frowned slightly, his irritation growing at the disruption in his class. "Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us, Miss Clark?" he asked, his voice laced with thinly veiled annoyance.

Elize smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Just wondering, Professor, why we have a student in our class who's always late."

Eli clicked his tongue in disapproval, but inside, he was pleased with Elize's blatant jealousy. It was a subtle reminder of the power he held over her, a power he relished. However, outwardly, he pretended to be irritated, masking his true feelings with a stern expression.

"Miss Clark," Eli said sharply, his voice cutting through the lingering giggles, "this class is not the place for childish behavior. If you have something to say, make sure it contributes to the lesson. Otherwise, I suggest you keep your comments to yourself."

Elize's smirk faltered, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Yes, Professor Michaelson," she muttered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Eli turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening slightly. "As for you, [Your Name], let's focus on the task at hand. If you need any help catching up on the material you've missed, my office hours are available."

You nodded, grateful for his offer. "Thank you, Professor. I'll make sure to come by if I need any assistance."

Eli continued his lecture, his voice commanding as he delved into the complexities of nucleophilic addition to carbonyl compounds. Despite his outward irritation, he couldn't help but be intrigued by you. There was something about your determination and resilience that set you apart from the other students.

As the lecture progressed, Eli's mind wandered back to the encounter with Elize. Her jealousy was palpable, a testament to the power dynamic he carefully maintained. He enjoyed the control he had over her, the way she vied for his attention. It was a constant reminder of his influence, something he valued immensely.

Yet, there was something different about his interactions with you. Unlike Elize, who sought his approval through flirtation and charm, you seemed genuinely invested in the subject matter. Your passion for chemistry was evident, and despite your struggles with punctuality, your dedication was undeniable. It was this genuine interest that intrigued Eli, making him more invested in your progress than he cared to admit.

Despite the interruption from Elize and her friends, the lecture continued, with Eli delving deeper into the mechanisms of nucleophilic addition to carbonyl compounds. You focused intently, determined to grasp the intricacies of the subject matter despite the distractions.

As Eli guided the class through the complex chemical reactions, you found yourself drawn into the material, your mind buzzing with questions and insights. Despite your occasional tardiness and the teasing from your classmates, you felt a sense of belonging in Eli's class, a feeling of purpose that drove you to excel.

After the lecture, you approached Eli's desk, eager to discuss some of the concepts further. Eli regarded you with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism, his arrogance evident in the way he leaned back in his chair, his posture exuding confidence.

"Ah, [Your Name], what can I do for you?" Eli asked, his tone tinged with a hint of condescension.

"I wanted to clarify a few points from today's lecture," you began, your voice steady despite the nerves that fluttered in your stomach. "Specifically, I was wondering about the stereochemistry of nucleophilic addition reactions and how it relates to the overall mechanism."

Eli raised an eyebrow, impressed by your astute question. "Ah, an excellent inquiry, [Your Name]. Stereochemistry is indeed a crucial aspect of organic chemistry, one that often confounds even the most seasoned chemists."

He launched into a detailed explanation, his voice animated as he elucidated the finer points of stereochemistry and its implications for nucleophilic addition reactions. You listened intently, absorbing every word with a hunger for knowledge that impressed even Eli.

As the conversation progressed, Eli found himself increasingly drawn to your intellect and passion for the subject. Despite his initial skepticism, he couldn't deny the depth of your understanding and the genuine curiosity that drove your questions.

After the discussion, you thanked Eli for his insights, feeling a sense of accomplishment as you left his office. Despite the challenges you faced, both in the classroom and in your personal life as Spider-Man, you were determined to succeed in your studies and make a difference in the world.

[illuminatedquill]

Story Summary: Purrgils and a nursery rhyme from his youth have shaped Ezra Bridger's life in ways that even he is not aware of . . .

The Research Survey Mission (22 BBY)

After an agonizing hour being held up by Republic Security, he finally made it to the hangar bay where his escort was waiting. Dodging precariously between the space fighters, grimly masked clone pilots, and their long-suffering mechanics, he weaved his way through the active hangar with a desperate determination.

The war against the Separatists continued to stretch on with no end in sight, he knew. It surprised him that his scientific study had been approved by the Senate, considering all the funds being tied up in the war's progress. His sponsor, Senator Amidala, had taken an interest in the study of purrgil hyperspace travel routes for humanitarian reasons and had lobbied the Supreme Chancellor for this study to be funded.

Wheezing with the strain from sprinting - something not done since his Academy days - he finally skidded to a stop in front of the vessel assigned to the survey mission: an old, but functional looking G9 Rigger class freighter.

"I'm - my apologies for the wait," he gasped out between heaving breaths. It wouldn't make a good first impression if he vomited in front of his team here -

And speaking of his team . . .

Clutching at the stitch in his side, he peered at the two individuals selected to be his escort. First, the pilot: a young human woman about his age, with raven black hair and a feisty expression on her sun-browned face - a beautiful face, he observed, that looked better suited for a leading role in a holo-drama rather than a drab military flight uniform.

The pilot looked impatiently at the chrono on her wrist. "You're late," she remarked, sounding grumpy.

Still taken aback by her beauty, he took a full five seconds to compose himself. "Yes - I'm sorry about that," he replied. "All the new security; I wasn't expecting - "

The second individual on his team gave a sardonic chuckle. "First time on Coruscant?" asked the second person.

He nodded, looking the other team member up and down with a rising skepticism. He was a young boy with short brown hair, some of which was kept in a thin braid that trailed past his shoulders. A strong, serious face with piercing blue eyes - similar to his own - gave the impression that little escaped the boy's attention.

More importantly, he wore the traditional brown and white robes of a Jedi Knight. They fit him well, despite the boy's youth.

Smiling slightly, he asked, "And you must be . . . Master Depa Billaba?"

Amusement glinted in the youth's blue eyes, breaking through the stoic expression. He barked out a laugh. "No, I'm afraid not. She had other pressing matters to attend to. I was sent in her place."

"Ah, I see. Are you another Jedi Knight, then?"

The boy pouted. "Someday. Soon, I hope."

He stuck out his hand in greeting. "I am Master Billaba's padawan. My name is Caleb Dume."

Dume's grip was firm and steady; the skin on his palm was rough, callused from years of hard work and battle. Far rougher than I would expect any young person his age to be.

Inwardly, he felt a small pang of sadness for the young Jedi; a war was a brutal experience to go through, even for the adults who were prepared for such an event. He couldn't imagine the toll it was taking on the young.

Even if they were Jedi.

"My name is Ephraim Bridger, Jedi Dume. A pleasure to work with you."

The Jedi nodded in acknowledgement. Ephraim turned to the pilot -

"Lieutenant Mira," she answered bluntly before he could ask. Ephraim noticed the emphasis on her rank. "And I'd like to actually start flying now, if either of you don't mind."

She turned and stalked onto the freighter's lowered ramp, disappearing into the ship.

Ephraim blinked and turned to Dume. The young Jedi just shrugged. "Can't keep her waiting," he said politely. Both of them soon followed the pilot into the waiting vessel.

"Guess not," Ephraim muttered. "Oh, this is sure to be fun."

"I hope so," said Dume earnestly. "Could use a break from this war. So, what are we hunting?"

"We're not hunting, Master Jedi. We're searching for something. A creature long rumored to be nothing more than a myth, save for scattered reports from spacers over the Republic's long history."

Dume glanced at him curiously. "What would that be?"

Ephraim turned to him, grinning widely. "Ever heard of star whales, Caleb?"

The Star Whale (13 BBY)

"Alright, alright," laughed Ephraim. "Time for bed, young one."

His son, Ezra, was encased in a bear hug, scrambling to free himself. "Ah, come on, Dad. Five more minutes, please?"

Ephraim considered the offer - until he glanced over his shoulder to find his wife, Mira, giving him one of her patented glares. Her eyes - a lovely shade of violet that he always found himself admiring - pierced through him like a blaster bolt.

Deflating a bit, he whispered, "Not going to happen, buddy. The boss says no."

The child twisted in his hug until he could look over Ephraim's shoulder. Mira blew him a kiss.

With his typical accuracy, Ezra mimed to catch it and pressed the kiss to his heart. It was a time-honored ritual every evening, before bedtime.

"Okay, then," said his son. "How about a story instead?"

Ephraim laid his son gently onto the floor, feeling the aches in his lower back. "I would love that. Head up to your bedroom and choose one. I'll meet you there in a minute."

Before he finished his sentence, Ezra raced up the stairs in a flash. Ephraim snorted and turned to look at his wife. She was throwing a hooded cloak over her shoulders, obscuring her figure.

"I'm heading out now, love," she said to him, voice muffled through the thick cloth wrapped around her head.

He went to her and gave a kiss on the bridge of her nose, the only exposed skin available due to her outfit. They had been doing this for a while now . . . but the worry never faded from his mind.

Since the Empire had come to power, he and Mira had taken over an old communications tower to spread messages throughout the galaxy with other groups of people who were fighting against the growing tyranny of the Emperor and his cronies. It was dangerous work.

But someone had to do it. Someone had to light a candle in the long, vast night that had fallen across galactic civilization.

"Be careful," he said quietly. Mira smirked at him, in her typical impish way.

"I always am," she replied. "Sing me home, when it's time."

"Of course," said Ephraim. He watched her slip out the front door, biting his lip. In his mind's eye, he could see her dodging through shadowed alleyways, dashing across empty streets, finding their hidden speeder . . .

Come back safe, darling, he thought.

"Dad!" came his son's voice, interrupting his mood. "Are you coming up or what?"

Ephraim chuckled, feeling grateful for the distraction. "I'm heading up now," he replied.

_ _ _ _ _

"Star whales?" asked Ephraim. "You're sure?"

Ezra nodded. "I found some of your notes - "

Ephraim groaned. "You were snooping around in my office again?"

The boy flushed with embarrassment. He sighed deeply. Mira had noted it before he did; their son had a predicament for getting himself into trouble. Nothing serious as of yet, thank the Force.

But in these dark times, it could spell greater danger down the road.

Especially given his . . . talents.

"For the last time, there is no candy hidden in my desk. You ate all of it."

"Right. Sorry, Dad." The apology would have seemed sincere if not for the smug grin plastered on the boy's face.

He reached over and ruffled his son's hair with fond exasperation. Ezra giggled and waved his hands away.

Ephraim sat back in his chair thinking of all the stories about star whales he knew of. Finally, he said, "Do you know I saw a star whale once?"

His son's eyes went round as a moon. "Really?"

Smiling, he said, "Oh, yes. It was a scientific study. I actually met your mother on that mission. And there was a Jedi, also."

"A Jedi?" Ezra's mouth went agape. "Who were they?"

"A young human boy, actually. Not much older than you. His name was Caleb Dume." A gentle pang of melancholy went through him at the old memory resurfacing; he had not thought of the young Jedi in the long years since that mission.

He wondered if Dume had survived the purge.

Somehow, deep in his heart, he was sure that the boy had made it. Palpatine had been vicious in his extermination of the Jedi Order, but there was no way that all of them had been killed. Rumors continued to pop up from all over the galaxy . . .

He shook his head. Ezra was watching him, waiting for the next part of the story.

"Oh, yes. We spent a week in deep space, tracking down a pod of purrgils," he continued. Ephraim felt the old sense of wonder and awe grip him as he remembered the towering, majestic creatures. The pod had passed by their tiny freighter, flowing around them like river water.

Closing his eyes, he could envision the golden splotches on their skin mixing with the vivid purple - and those eyes. Those giant, glowing eyes. Being looked upon by the star whales felt like an almost religious experience with the calm, magnificent intelligence behind those eyes appraising the explorers' small forms.

"The sounds they made . . . oh, it was like they were singing," he explained. "It shouldn't be possible in deep space, but the purrgils somehow manage to do it. And they did it so beautifully."

"It sounded like music?" asked Ezra in a hushed tone. He nodded.

"Like little songs," confirmed Ephraim. "I believe it's how they speak to one another."

"Did they jump to hyperspace?"

Ephraim nodded in confirmation. "Their tentacles in the back stretched far, far out. I could see lines glowing on them, brighter and brighter and then - they were gone just like that." He snapped his fingers on the last word to illustrate his point.

"Wizard," whispered his son.

"Totally wizard," he agreed. He stroked his beard. "But then something odd happened."

Ezra sat up in his bed, gripping the covers tightly. "What?" he demanded. "What happened?"

Ephraim stroked his beard, drawing out the pause for dramatic effect. Watching his child squirm in anticipation was always a fascinating experience, which he secretly enjoyed.

Finally, he broke the pause and leaned forward. "One of them stayed behind," he said.

His son's expression turned puzzled. "Really? Why?"

"Ah, well, I have only a theory on that," Ephraim confessed. "But I feel that it is true. You see, purrgil pods are a community. They take care of each other, watch out for one another."

"Like you and Mom," Ezra pointed out. Ephraim smiled.

"Precisely. They are also the only creatures with the capability to emit noise in the deep vacuum of space via their songs. Space is large and vast and dark, Ezra. My theory is that even purrgils can get lost sometimes. So, one stays behind to sing them home."

"Even purrgils can get lost," Ezra repeated, sounding sad.

"All beings, large and small," said Ephraim, "need help sometimes."

He watched his son ponder that for a few moments. Then, Ezra said quietly, "You say that to Mom sometimes."

Ephraim frowned. "What do I say?"

"She asks you to 'sing her home' sometimes. Or you ask her. And then one of you leaves during the night."

He felt an icy fist enclose over his heart. It seemed that he and Mira's covert activities hadn't gone unnoticed by their son.

"We do say that," he confessed. "It's just a saying."

Ezra's face turned to him, with those piercing blue eyes that were an inheritance. "Do you think someday, someone will do that for me? If I get lost?"

Ephraim felt the icy fist close tighter. "Your Mom and I will do that for you."

"But what if . . . " The boy's voice trailed off, refusing to give voice to the fear that had arisen in him. But Ephraim knew what Ezra was going to ask.

It was the same question that he and Mira struggled with every night since their child had been born.

What if you and Mom aren't here anymore?

He reached forward and enclosed Ezra's hand in his own. So small, so soft, so warm - and so fragile.

"You will meet others," he said firmly, "who will love you just as we have. I promise it, Ezra."

His son just gazed at him. "You promise?"

"I do. You are so easy to love, my son. You will find someone who loves you like it's second nature to them - and if you ever get lost, they will sing you home."

The Rhyme (4 BBY)

He sat in the cockpit of the Phantom, gazing through the canopy at the field of stars. Whenever things on the Ghost got too quiet, he liked to sequester himself in there and just enjoy the mechanical ambience generated by the shuttle's machinery.

They're out there somewhere, he thought. The purrgils.

His encounter with the legendary creatures, still so recent, had left him in a curious state. Ezra couldn't shake the sensation that this was not the last he would see of them.

Unbidden, an old memory rose to the surface of his thoughts. His father, Ephraim, telling him stories of the star whales.

One stays behind to sing them home.

Ezra smiled faintly, despite the gentle sadness he felt rippling beneath the recollection. Not too long ago, he didn't want to think about his parents. Thoughts of them were a source of pain that he did not want to revisit, especially when he was just a street-rat scavenging on the streets of Capital City for survival.

But now, with his new family. he could remember his parents freely. The memories were no longer a burden; the pain hadn't lessened, but the others helped him to bear their loss a little better.

He reached into his pocket and took out the holo-recording that Sabine had found for him on his birthday a year ago. Pressing the button, the recording flared to life, showing a static image of his family - before the Empire had come to take it all away.

All beings, large and small, need help sometimes.

Ezra gazed softly at the holo-image, feeling the old pangs of loneliness. Despite his time spent on the Ghost, some nights he still felt . . . lost. Like he didn't belong.

"Even purrgils get lost sometimes," he muttered.

"Is that so?" came a familiar voice from behind. Twitching in surprise, Ezra stole a peek at the source.

It was Sabine. To his surprise, she wasn't wearing her standard Mandalorian armor; rather, she wore simple sleeping wear consisting of a plain shirt, shorts, and slippers.

She arched a curious eyebrow at him and gave a little wave. "Hey, goober," she said.

"Hey, Sabine," he replied. "What brings you here?"

Sabine shrugged. "Just checking up on you. You weren't in your room. Zeb's snores don't seem too horrendous tonight, so I was wondering why you weren't sleeping."

"Actually," he admitted, "Zeb's snores help me sleep. Guess I'm so used to them now as background noise. If he's not here, I can't sleep so easily."

She laughed. Ezra felt his ears flush red at the sound.

Play it cool, he thought firmly. Be cool.

She shuffled up to him and pointed at the co-pilot seat. "Mind if I join you?"

He gestured at the empty chair. "Be my guest."

"Thanks." She sat down, still scrutinizing him with a curious look. "So, what's this about purrgils? You still thinking about those gas pods?"

Ezra snorted. "They eat the gas, they're not - well, technically - okay, yes, I'm still thinking about them."

Sabine giggled. "I'm just messing with you, Ezra." Her face turned serious. "What does this have to do with your family?"

He blinked, suddenly remembering the holo-recording playing in the space between them. In a flash he turned it off, feeling self-conscious.

"I don't know," he replied. "I was just thinking about them for some reason."

Ezra turned to look out the Phantom's canopy again. "My dad used to tell me about the purrgils all the time when I was younger."

"Really?" asked Sabine. "What did he say?"

"That purrgils apparently mate for life. There's more myth than fact about them, but that one is true. Despite their fearsome appearance, they're also really gentle. They won't attack unless directly provoked."

Sabine sat back in her chair, absorbing this. "Wow. Surprising."

"How so?"

"Purrgils don't make any kind of evolutionary sense, goober. Far as we can tell, nothing hunts purrgils. They are at the top of their food chain. And yet . . . " She waved a hand at the stars in front of them.

"They just exist. Just travel from star to star and occasionally take a pit stop to munch on some gas," she finished.

"And to annoy spacers like Hera," Ezra added.

Sabine snorted. "True. They continue to do that, maybe Hera will become a predator to them."

That elicited laughter from Ezra. Sabine grinned at him.

When his laughter died down, Sabine asked, "What else did your dad know about the purrgils?"

Ezra thought about it, then said, "The pod doesn't jump together. Not for long distances. He saw it happen, in person: one of them stays behind."

"Why?"

He closed his eyes. "To sing them home, when it's time."

There was a silence from Sabine. Then, he heard her murmur, "Even purrgils get lost sometimes."

"Yup. You get it."

Ezra opened his eyes. "My parents used to say that to each other sometimes. 'Sing me home when it's time'. One time, I asked my dad what would happen if I got lost and they weren't around anymore."

Sabine was quiet.

"He said other people would find me someday and love me like they did. That if I got lost, they would sing me home, just like the purrgils do," Ezra said. His eyes glazed over with tears.

"Some days I feel lost," he confessed. "I'm grateful for you and everyone else here, but it's not the same as it was with my family. I miss them so much sometimes."

Ezra let out a little bitter laugh. "Sometimes, when I was younger and still on my own, I wished that the purrgils would come and take me. That I could be anywhere but stuck on Lothal without my parents. It didn’t matter where we went - they could take me to another galaxy, for all I care."

All the horrible, seething emotions whirled and twisted within him. Ezra closed his eyes again and took deep breaths, trying to enact Kanan's Jedi calming techniques -

Sabine hugged him. Ezra let out a small breath that he didn't realize was being held.

"I'm here, Ezra," she said. "I'm here for you."

He melted into the warm embrace, just allowing himself to feel the strength and surety of his friend's presence fill the deep, dark cracks that his emotions had opened in him.

"Thank you," he mumbled, his voice a little ragged.

After a long moment, she released. Looking into his eyes with an expression of utmost seriousness, she said, "Look, I'm not much of a singer but I'll do it for you."

Ezra stared at her. "What?"

"Better me than Zeb. Or Hera and definitely better than Kanan." She shuddered at the last name.

"What are you talking about, Sabine?"

She rolled her eyes. "The singing, goober! I'll sing you home if you get lost."

His mouth fell slightly open. "You . . . you will?"

"Yeah. Just don't expect opera level talent here. Give me something simple to sing."

Ezra felt his mouth widen into a grin. "I never really thought about it."

"Come on. You have to know some music, Ezra."

He thought hard for a few seconds. Then he remembered something from his past - an old nursery rhyme his parents used to sing, when he was much younger.

"You got something," said Sabine. "I saw it click in your head, judging by your expression."

He looked at his friend, his mood cautious. "Okay," he said, "repeat after me."

Ezra took a deep breath.

"Loth-rat, loth-cat, loth-wolf run . . ."

The Girl Who Was Broken (1 BBY)

It had been a week since Ezra disappeared.

In the distance, despite the fading light of early dusk, Sabine could still see the smoke rising from the rubble of Capital City. It would take years to rebuild to its former glory. Years that the inhabitants of Lothal would now have, thanks to her friend's courageous sacrifice.

Yes, she felt proud. That's what she kept telling herself and the others, too.

But deep down, a wound remained. An Ezra shaped hole that refused to be filled from all the celebration and praise and joy from everyone around her.

I let him go. He's gone.

She shook her head vigorously at this last thought. "He's not gone," she said aloud.

But her words were snatched away by the rising evening breeze. She sighed and leaned against the balcony railing, taking in her surroundings.

Ezra's comm-tower. His home before he came onto the Ghost.

She knew Zeb and Hera would soon be making plans to leave. The Rebellion needed their talents desperately elsewhere. The war with the Empire had tipped in their favor with Thrawn's defeat but it was far, far from over.

She understood why they had to leave - and why she was deciding to stay. Ezra had asked her to see this through, not them. Sabine acknowledged the logic behind the decision to split up the remaining Ghost crew.

That didn't stop it from hurting, however. She and Ezra had spent plenty of nights conversing about this very subject; what they would do, should the worst come to pass.

But every plan they had come up with included them sticking together. Never had it occurred to them to plan about what would happen if they were separated.

And now he was gone.

"He's not gone," she said through clenched teeth. "He's not!"

Her shout became another casualty of the wind, snatched away in a heartbeat.

He couldn't be. She would know if he was . . . no, she was sure of it. Ezra was still alive out there, somewhere.

The trail had gone cold just outside the Unknown Regions. Hera had taken the Ghost, with her and Zeb, picking up the trail of debris from Thrawn's fleet halfway across the galaxy.

They could go no further. Neither of them voiced the obvious fact aloud on the trip back to Lothal: that no one who went into the Unknown Regions returned to tell the tale.

Ezra's lost out there. He's a smart boy, she thought. He'll figure it out. There's got to be some Jedi navigation techniques he can use.

Until then, all she could do was wait . . . and watch over Lothal, as she promised.

A memory came to her, rushing through her mind like the evening's breeze.

One stays behind to sing them home.

It was a silly idea, she knew. A child's hope.

But she had promised.

Sabine turned her gaze upwards, looking up at the starry night sky of Lothal. Somewhere, in between those pinpricks of tiny, scattered light, was her best friend.

She imagined his face, letting the image of him fill her mind.

And then . . . Sabine began to sing, fighting against the rising wind on this Lothal evening:

"Loth-rat, loth-cat, loth-wolf run. Pick a path and all is done. Loth-rat, loth-cat, loth-wolf run. The night is falling, and the dark will come. Loth-rat, loth-cat, loth-wolf flee. Follow my voice and run home to me."

Her voice wavered at the last verse. When it was done, she hung her head for a moment, letting the tears fall freely.

Had the wind carried her voice away? Maybe, in her most foolish of hopes, it had carried her song to wherever Ezra was.

That he knew she was there. That someone was trying to bring him home.

Sabine slammed a fist on the railing. "That was so stupid," she whispered. "There's no way he heard that."

It was an idiotic idea that the singing would be heard by Ezra. She wasn't a purrgil.

But Sabine knew, deep down in her heart, that she would try anyway.

I will sing you home, Ezra Bridger. Every night, until you come back to me.

~ epilogue ~

The Lost Boy (11 ABY)

He sat on his haunches, exercising his Jedi patience. Before him, a field of plain, unblemished rocks; the gray skies of the strange world he had crash landed on so many years ago threatened a downpour soon. Ezra scratched idly at his beard, studying the rocks with interest.

Finally, he picked one. With a small smile, he picked up a pebble and chucked it at one of the oddly shaped rocks a few feet away on his right.

It bounced off the rock's exterior - and then the rock leapt into the air, revealing the small, crab-like creature that laid beneath it. Or, rather, was attached to it.

The Noti - as Ezra had come to know them as - used the rocks as defensive camouflage when the nomadic bandits came passing by. Since the planet they were on had so many of them, it became a habit of the bandits to just pass them by without much attention.

The little Noti scrambled in place for a few seconds and then froze at the sight of Ezra.

"Ezra Bridger," it said in a tiny little voice.

"Hello, friend," he replied pleasantly. "The village is looking for you. It's time to make camp."

The Noti, by Ezra's estimation, was still a child. The village elder had approached him earlier that morning, babbling like crazy. He still wasn't fluent with their language, but the gist of it was that they were looking for one of their younglings that had gone wandering off.

"Ezra Bridger," said the young Noti uncertainly.

He shook his head. "No, they're not angry with you. Just worried."

Thunder clapped nearby, the sound roiling over the barren wastes. The Noti immediately disappeared underneath it's rock shell again, afraid.

Ezra sighed, walked over to it, and knocked gently on the shell. "Hey, it's going to start pouring soon. We need to start heading back - "

A gust of wind rose with the incoming storm, and, for a frozen moment of time, he heard something.

A voice, singing. As if from far, far away.

A familiar voice. A familiar song . . .

Ezra went absolutely still, his heart hammering away inside his chest. He strained to listen over the rising gale -

There. There it is.

" . . . follow my voice and run home to me."

And then the voice was gone, carried away by the storm wind.

But he heard it. Oh, yes, he heard it.

Ezra smiled to himself.

"Not bad," he remarked. "You're a better singer than you think, Sabine."

He felt a tug on the hem of his robes. Looking down, he saw the Noti clutching a tiny fistful of the blood-red fabric.

"Ezra Bridger?" it asked.

Ezra knelt down and patted the little creature. "Don't be scared. Stay close to me, okay? We need to go now."

The Noti chirped back an answer in its own native language, sounding cheerful.

"Yeah," Ezra agreed. "It's time to go home."

[guilty-pleasures21]

Another one?! Ugh, I get bored at work, okay?!

I am so sorry guys, but even I'm getting bored of this one 😭. I'm just going to work with what I already have in my drafts and not add on much more to this storyline so I can work more on the ones with actual plots 🥲. Thank you for following this far!!! Much love ❤️.

3. And on it goes

Part 1 - The apartment

Part 2 - the late night

Part 3 - the shirt

 Warnings: kissing and touching, mentions of sex

----------------------------------------------------------

    The first thing she did was head over to the kitchen and open up the fridge. 

     “You hungry, cariño?” Miguel asked, leaning over the kitchen island. He'd taken her back to his place after they'd watched their movie, but they'd grabbed some food after, so he didn't know how she could possibly be hungry again so quickly. 

     “No. I just want to see what brands you use,” she replied, studying his fridge carefully. She closed it shut again, then turned around to face him, that sweet smile that she'd been giving him all day still stretched across her face. 

     “And?” Miguel asked. “Do I pass inspection?” X pretended to consider the question, her lips twisted to the side as she thought about it. Then she shrugged. 

     “It'll do, I guess,” she relented casually. Miguel smiled and shook his head. 

     “Help yourself to whatever you want, arañita. No questions,” he reassured her, moving to stand next to her. “Do you want some water?”

     “It's fine. I have my bottle.” She gestured to the translucent purple bottle she carried around everywhere with her.

     “You don't have to use your bottle, querida. Just use a cup,” Miguel suggested. “Or a glass. Whatever you want, it's all yours.” He never spent too much time at home, always working late in the lab or staying up to fulfil his superhero duties. He supposed it was a bit of a waste, leaving his luxurious penthouse apartment empty most of the time, but maybe that was about to change soon. For the better. X smiled and he felt his own lips curling at the sight.  

     “Thank you.” She walked over to the balcony next, crossing the living room to unlock the sliding door and step out into the cool night air. She took a few cautious steps to the railing, then clung onto it tightly as she glanced out at the city. “Wow. This is beautiful.”

     Miguel leaned against the railing beside her, puzzled by her awkward posture. “Cariño. What are you doing?” 

     X backed away from the railing, then breathed a sigh of relief. “I'm kind of terrified of heights.”

     He hadn't known that about her, but it wasn't something that would have come up in an everyday conversation.    

     “You know I'm Spiderman, right?” Miguel reminded her, gesturing to the buildings around them. “I can just web us away.”

     X backed away until she reached the door and pressed herself up against it nervously. “Uh, no thanks, querido. I'm fine!”

     Dios, he loved hearing her call him that. He started moving towards her, a wicked glint in his eyes, and X held out a hand in warning. “No way, Miguel. I'm good right here. You can go perform your death-defying stunts all you want, I'm gonna stay right here: on solid ground.”

     She slid the door open and rushed back into his living room before he could grab her, and Miguel grinned as he closed the door behind him. X sighed with relief, then turned to go explore the guest room. 

     “Why is your house so big?” she asked, her eyes travelling over the plain bedsheets and single cupboard at the corner of the room. She didn't think he had guests very often - he was always busy with work or being Spiderman, and he never talked about his family. Was he just not very close to them or had something happened that had driven a wedge between them one day? Miguel shrugged.

     “Why not? I mean, I'm pretty big myself,” he joked. X turned back to face him, her cheeks heating up as she bit down an embarrassed smile. Miguel folded his arms across his chest and flashed her a naughty smirk, and X swivelled away from him and squealed with delight: oh, she knew exactly how big he really was. She cleared her throat, composing herself, then straightened. 

     “Okay! So! Bathroom?” She walked over to the first floor bathroom and opened the door to take a peek. Pristine marble countertop, neatly folded spare towels, sparkling cream-coloured tiles. Did he hire a cleaner to take care of his house? She couldn't imagine him getting on his knees and spending an entire day scrubbing the bathroom clean. “Nice.” 

     “So? Are you gonna make an offer?” Miguel teased from behind her. X closed the door and turned back to him, confused. 

     “Huh?”

     “For the house,” Miguel elaborated, gesturing to their surroundings. “Are you done inspecting it?” 

     X smiled and pretended to consider the idea. 

     “Hmm, I still haven't seen the upstairs yet,” she pointed out, taking a step closer to him. “What's the master bedroom like? Can I … test it out? With a friend, perhaps?”

     Miguel grinned and curled his fingers around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “Depends. Who's this friend?”

     X wrapped her arms around his neck and pursed her lips in thought. “Hmm, I can bring him tomorrow? I think he should be free in the afternoon.”

     Miguel frowned immediately. “Who's this friend, querida?” 

     “I'm kidding, Miguel!” X laughed at the annoyed look on his face, then stretched up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “You're so cute when you're jealous!”

     She pressed herself against him in a hug and he relaxed when she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “It's only you, querido, only you.”

     Miguel grunted in agreement and hugged her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Then he followed her up the stairs. 

     “The bedroom is that way, arañita,” he informed her when she walked straight past it to continue down the corridor. He curled his fingers around the belt loops of her jeans and tugged her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close to him. She sucked in a breath when he pressed his lips to the side of her neck, and he grinned at her response.

     “I know. I'm just … saving it for last,” she replied, shivering against him as he brushed his nose along the length of her neck. “I want to take my time testing it out.” 

     She turned around to flash him a mischievous grin and Miguel bent over to rest his forehead against hers. “Santo cielo, arañita.”

     She slid her hands up the back of his neck as he kissed her, her fingernails tickling the back of his scalp delightfully. He groaned at the sensation and pulled her tighter against him, arching her back so he could slide his tongue deeper into her mouth. She kissed him back a little more, then pulled back eventually, straightening so he'd loosen his grip on her. She turned around when he released her and continued making her way to his study.

     She let her eyes drift over the titles in his collection as she strolled past his bookshelves, then she called back to him over her shoulder. “Do you read anything for fun?”

     “Fun?” Miguel repeated, coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist again. “What's that?”

     She snickered at his response, then giggled when he nipped at her earlobe. She spun around in his arms and shot him an exasperated look. Then she curled her arms around his neck and leaned forward, bringing her mouth closer to his. 

     “‘Fun’ is what we had tonight, Dr O'Hara,” she informed him, her dark eyes falling to his lips and staying there. “Maybe you should try doing it more often.”

     Miguel grinned and turned her around to start guiding her to his bedroom. “The night is still young, arañita. Maybe you can teach me a little more about having fun tonight.”  

     She walked into the room, then stopped immediately, hesitating. She normally took the seat next to him, their elbows touching, their thighs brushing against one another’s, but … She saw the corner of Miguel's lips twitch as his gaze flickered from her to the chair beside him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. And she knew he wouldn’t let her concentrate if she sat next to him right now. 

     X edged closer to the other side of the room, aiming for the seat diagonally across from him; too far for him to try anything. But then he glared at her, his lips twisting into a frown and his fingers tapping on the table impatiently as he gestured for her to plant herself in the seat next to him. She gulped, keeping her head down as she scurried over to him, hoping no one had noticed the silent communication passing between them. Then she dropped into the seat next to him and shuffled away slightly, trying to keep some distance between them. Miguel huffed in irritation and grabbed onto the edge of her seat, rolling her right next to his side so that he could place his hand on her knee. 

     “So?” He glanced around the room, opening the meeting once everyone had taken their seats. “What’s the update?” 

     He slid his hand up her thigh as Aaron began speaking, his fingers brushing against her over her pant leg. X gritted her teeth and hunched over her laptop, hoping against hope that no one would find anything suspicious about their behaviours. She squeezed her legs together as Aaron continued presenting his report, lifting one to cross it over the other. But Miguel stopped her immediately, pressing down on her thigh to hold her in position so he could continue stroking her. She tried to keep herself frozen in place as she stared at the screen, tried to ignore the way he squeezed her thigh gently, his thumb rubbing along her as he calmly asked Aaron a question. But how could she think about anything else right now? How could he?! Looking up at the screen with his eyes narrowed in thought, his attention entirely focused on Aaron’s presentation, even while he caressed her beneath the table. Miguel  moved his hand higher, inching his way closer and closer to her centre, and X reached down quickly, grabbing hold of his hand and twining her fingers with his. She saw the corner of his lips quirk as he relaxed into her touch, his skin warm against hers, and she bit down on her grin, her chest tingling at the ease with which she could put a smile on his face, even just a small one.

     “Well, if that’s all,” Miguel concluded, addressing the rest of the room, “then back to work.” X moved to pull her hand out of his - to stand up and return to her work as well - but Miguel held her firm, his fingers not letting go of hers even while he glanced at something on his laptop. 

     “X,” he began, his expression giving nothing at all away, “could you stay behind for a second? I have something I need to discuss about your project.” She nodded and waited quietly for everyone else to exit the meeting room. Finally, when they were alone, Miguel stood up and crossed the room to lock the door before making his way back over to her. 

     “Um, what did you want to talk about, Dr. O’Hara?” X asked curiously. She tried to maintain a professional tone as she spoke: a reminder that they were currently at work, but he just smirked at her, grabbing onto her wrists and pulling her up to stand before him. 

     “I wanted to talk about your performance yesterday,” he told her, guiding her arms around his neck before running his hands down her sides and settling them on her waist. He bent over her, his lips brushing along her neck as he began murmuring against her skin. “You did such a good job, querida, I was hoping to get a repeat performance tonight.”

     They'd hung out again on Sunday - after Miguel had coaxed her into another sex session when they'd woken up in the morning - but she'd insisted on going back to her apartment before work the next day. She'd been a little nervous about how he'd treat her once they were at work again, expecting him to adopt the stern and quiet demeanour he normally wore around the office, but oh, how wrong she'd been.

     He grinned at her silence, then pressed a soft kiss to her skin, his hands moving up her back to pull her closer to him as he continued making his way up her neck. Her head fell to the side in response to his touch, her body ceding control of itself over to him, and he moaned softly against her as he glided one hand down to the waistband of her pants. He snuck his fingers beneath the back of her shirt and skimmed his fingernails across her bare skin, and she sucked in a breath at the feeling. 

     “Miguel,” X breathed, the hoarseness in her voice drawing another low moan out of him. And then she could no longer speak, the only thoughts on her mind the memories of his skin on hers, his hands, his lips, his tongue. He pulled back, his gaze falling to her mouth before his lips followed, landing on hers so he could begin kissing her. She gasped, her muscles tensing in alarm even as she kissed him back, her body melting into his as he swept his tongue around her mouth, his movements slow and appreciative. Then he returned his lips to her neck, grinning against her as he pleaded with her to speak his name again. 

     “Say it again, querida,” he told her, taking her earlobe into his mouth and sucking on it. “Say my name again.” He moved both hands to her waist now, his fingers curling around her as he pressed her back against the table, his thumbs stroking small circles on her bare skin while he nibbled on her ear. 

     “M-” She bit down on her lip, stopping his name from falling from her lips - she wasn't going to indulge his naughty behaviour. Not at their workplace! “Dr O'Hara …”  

     He lifted her up and set her down on the table, then slid his hand up the side of her face to pull her mouth to his. He kissed her slow and deep, moaning into her mouth appreicatively at the taste of her, and she finally pulled herself away from him at the sound. 

     “Miguel!” she hissed, sliding backwards across the table to distance herself from him. “We're at work, cariño!” Miguel grinned at the term of affection, then began moving around to the other side of the table to stop her. She paused in the middle of her movements and twisted around to glare at him. 

    “Miguel, I swear, I'll … I'll withhold sex for a week if you don't stop!” She set her features into a hard expression, making sure he knew that she meant it, and the smile melted off his face. It was the worst possible punishment she could think of, given his unexpectedly high sex drive - not that she'd ever considered how high his sex drive would be. He’d just never seem too bothered by relationships or affection - no matter how freaking hot he was - so she'd been a little surprised by how he was constantly brushing his hands along her body or twirling her hair between his fingers or pulling her closer to him to shower her with soft kisses. But it was cute the way he kept following after her like an infatuated teenage boy - an infatuated teenage boy with absolutely no self-control when it came to his raging hormones.

          She couldn't be serious, could she? But she kept her face straight, her rosy lips not even twitching at the ends as she stared at him threateningly. Miguel clenched and unclenched his fists, thinking. They still had the meeting room for another fifteen minutes, so it was unlikely that anyone would come check in on them. But … he'd promised her they'd be careful and he was determined to keep that promise; to make sure she got the bright future she deserved. He sighed and stepped away from her, giving her the space to slide off the table and march over to the door. But he chased after her quickly and placed a hand on the hard surface before she could open it. X turned to look up at him, startled by the sudden interruption. 

     “Tonight. ¿Sí, querida?” he asked, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he gazed down at her. She folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with an exasperated look, prompting his stomach to start churning with fear once again. “I'm making fajitas?” 

     She narrowed her eyes, trying to resist the temptation of what he'd learned was one of her favourite dishes. Then finally, she folded. “Fine. But I want two!” 

     He grinned and let out a sigh of relief as he stepped back, allowing her to throw open the door and stalk out of the room. But of course he wasn’t going to make her any less - she was going to need the energy, after all, for all the activities he had planned for them tonight.

Tags: @heubstr

[g0ldenzinnie]

Unstoppable

Couple: Mark x fem!reader Genre: fluff; a little bit suggestive; a little dramatic, but who doesn't want a little drama Sinopse: At the end of a horrible day, your boyfriend makes a surprise just for you. DISCLAIMER: This is my first fic, and I hope it will be the first of many more. And also English it's my second language so have mercy on me. Word count: 5,6 k; I recommend listening to https://spotify.link/QPWm3Rr44Db while you read it <3

You had a bad day. No, sorry, a terrible day. 

First, you overslept. It wasn’t your fault your phone discharged over the night, because you connected the charger wrong. Your class started half an hour ago, but you were still in your apartment, trying to pull your pants up while brushing your teeth. When you got to campus, you were a sweating mess since you had to run to reach the bus. When you enter the classroom slamming the door accidentally, the teacher looked at you like you disrespect him in three languages, however he still continued. You sat down and opened your bag, then you realized you forgot your notebook at home, due to your late night studying and the reason for your oversleeping. That was the second thing that made your day into a nightmare, the final test. In a few minutes, you would have to face the test that would define your future as an engineer, further to top it all you forgot your notes at home. It didn't matter now, you just had to deal with it. You plug your phone under the desk, which for your luck every desk had a uni, and look at your missing messages. That is when you noticed the third thing that was making your day horrible. Your lock screen showed a happy blond boy playing the guitar, you smiled, having a nostalgic feeling in your chest. Mark lee, your boyfriend. You were barely together, since your different schedules and busy calendars. Besides, when you were together, you are so exhausted that you only watch movies on the couch and order takeout. It is not that you didn’t like it, it’s just that you missed having quality time with your boyfriend. You saw in your notifications three missed messages from Mark. 

“Good morning baby ❤️” “Good luck today I know you're gonna kill it” “I miss you ;c” 

You smile at the last messages, you feel comfort knowing that he missed you too. You respond. “Hey baby” “I miss you too bub, I just want to finish this test and see you”

You haven’t seen him in weeks. As you were focused on your career, Mark was focused on his. Now text messages were the only way of communicating. 

“I know princess, but I have rehearsal all day.” You let out a groan. One day they will kill him with so much work. 

“It’s okay baby, we can meet another time.” “Just be careful please.” “I don’t want you to pass out”

You responded, but you knew it was helpless. Even if the king himself from England order your boyfriend to stop overworking… he would probably apologize in a very polite matter and go against his order. You knew your golden boy wasn't unbreakable. Occasionally he would call you in the middle of the night just to hear your voice, and get the motivation that he needed. Despite that, he didn't complain a bit. Mark was the kind of person to torture himself, just to not let down the people that depend on him. Sadly, you were that kind of people. You needed to see his face, to hear his voice, you needed him.

“It’s like you don’t even know me baby” “I'm unstoppable”

He sends you a sticker of a bunny flexing his arms, and you laugh out loud. Your teacher sees you with a penetrating look and goes back to the board. Again, you look down over your phone, trying to respond.

“So you’re a superhero then?” “Or a super villain? Were you trying to steal my heart all this time?” “Is this your evil plan?”

 You replied, hoping it would make him laugh. You used to think that when he laughed, one of the most beautiful sounds in the world was produced. 

“A villain, never” “Actually, I am a superhero who is at your side in your time of need.” “I am Spider-Man 🕷️”

You smiled at the cuteness of your boy. You knew his obsession with Spider-man, actually on his birthday you made him a surprise party in his room and decorated it with that theme. He still considers it to be one of his favorite birthday parties. You didn’t have a chance to reply to him when another message came along. 

“I just wish I could use my power to come and see you. So then I could hug you, and give you a kiss.”

You feel the heat coming to your face as you blush. You replied instantly. 

“Just one?”

“Definitely more than one.” “And definitely not just in your lips” 

You let out a giggle, then drop your phone. Mark could be cheesy when he set his mind to it. Your attention to the class was gone long ago. 

“I'm losing focus Mark” “You’re gonna make me fail this class”

“Sorry baby” “But dude, seriously I really need you”“I miss our dates, not like watching movies and eat (which I love, don't get me wrong)” “But like real dates, you know? Like going out somewhere, or doing something else”

Your mode went down, owing to the text. You didn’t want him to feel like this. Some days you asked yourself if this is what torture fells like. 

“Me too baby, but we will see each other again, I know it.” “We just need more patience.” 

You were going to text him an “I love you”, when the fourth thing that made your day terrible happened. Your charger overloaded and stopped working, further your phone turned off seconds later. You put your head against the desk, feeling like a literal mess. The worst part is that when you looked up to see the clock, it was only 11:27 AM. 

After nine hours on campus, you were ready to go. The day transcurred as you predicted, horrid. The test was practically written in another language you didn’t study every night, in addition, your post anxiety didn’t help you to calm down. The only good thing that happened that day was that one of your classmates lent you their charger. When your phone started working, you found missed calls and messages from your boyfriend worried thinking something happened to you. You explained fast, leaving him with some relief. He told you to let him know when you were out on campus and as you promised, you texted him letting him know you were outside. While you wait for the bus in the freezing and dark night, he called you. 

“Hey baby” 

“Why are they keeping you in campus at this hour?” He said worried. You let out a sigh, tired. Not from him, but from this disgusting day. 

“My insufferable teacher, who didn't let us go before he could end the whole lesson. You should have seen it babe. I thought that literal vapor would come out of his ears when we told him we were supposed to go” You replied laughing, trying to ease your mind. But your boyfriend was doing it for you. Just by hearing his voice, you felt your body more relaxed. But you didn't hear a laugh in return. So you started to worry. Little did you knew that your golden boy's mind was working like a machine. 

“Where are you?” He asks, knowing the answer since he knew you, and your routine like the palm of his hand. 

“I’m at the bus stop, why?”  You respond, looking around at the emptiness of the street. You wait for his answer, yet instead you receive a hung up sound. He cut the call. You thought it was some connection issue, but he didn’t answer your calls, nor your texts. 

“Baby, what happened? Are you okay”“Babe”“Mark, I’m serious, what is going on?”“Dude, answer your phone.”

It passed two minutes after your last text when a black car made a turn in the corner of the street, coming in your direction. Since the street was silent, you could hear the loud music coming from inside. You let it pass, you thought it was a random car like other ones. It was when the car stopped in front of you and the window rolled down, when you realized it wasn’t random. Your vision showed your boyfriend seated in the backseat with a microphone in his hand. You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow, trying to act pissed since he didn’t answer your phone. Still inside of you, you were jumping out of happiness because he was there in front of you.

“Your hero to the rescue.” 

He said with the mic. You couldn't contain your smile, you wanted to hug him, however you didn't even have to take a step. He jumped out of the car and tucked you in, with his arms around your waist, resting his head in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his, feeling the tears coming to your eyes. You could feel his warmth and cologne, just the way you remembered. He took a step back and took your face gently. He looked at you with so much worship and caring, that you felt your heart melting in the process.

“My beautiful girl” He whispered before he kissed you with all his being. Desperate, but not rough. Full of love and adoration. You respond, enclosing your fingers in his hair. Everything in the world didn’t matter. What happened during the day was forgotten. He was finally there, kissing your lips, pulling you close, needed for your touch like you needed his. It was until the car honked as you returned to reality. Mark broke the kiss and nodded at the driver. He rush to take your hand and pulled you into the car. 

“Let's go, I have a whole date planned just for you.” You smile confused, stepping into the car and closing the door. 

“Baby, nothing is going to be open at this hour on a Monday.” You say, before noticing the things in the car. 

“Who said we were going somewhere?” You didn't know how, but there were disco lights illuminating the inside of the car. Also, your favorite snacks were in the middle seat. The driver who started moving the car couldn't be seen because of the wall separating the front and back of the car.

“Mark, what is this?” He just gives you the other mic and another kiss on your lips as you were distracted. His hand was in the nape of your neck, with his fingers wrapping your hair gently. Your breathing became heavier, pulling him close, grabbing the collar of his sweatshirt. He breaks the kiss and rest on your forehead. Smiling he responds.

“We are going to have a karaoke date. I need to practice my voice, you need to release stress. It's the perfect match.” He turns on the mic and takes out his phone to show you a playlist. You let out a gasp as your heart wrinkles. The playlist name was “For my Angel”, and it was full of your favorite songs. Even your favorite versions. “What do you say?” He asks with his mic, leaving a funny eco behind. You smile and turn on yours. 

“I say let's do this” You claim as you pressed play and a song of Olivia Rodrigo started to sound in the speakers. “Oh my god, babe, you know me so well” Shouting of excitement, you start to sing into the mic. Mark laughs and joins you, since one month ago when the album dropped, you made him learn the lyrics. You laugh, not believing this was happening. One moment ago, you thought you would declare this day to be the worst day of your life. However, the boy next to you, trying to sing in falsetto, made a 180-degree turn of it. 

Both of you didn't care about what you sounded like, you were just goofing around and singing like your souls were ripping apart. After thirty minutes of singing, rapping and dancing, you’re tired and ask Mark to sing a solo. Since he loved karaoke, and you, he agreed gladly. Even when his throat started to feel dry. That was one of the things you loved about Mark. He always put his soul into things. It didn’t matter what it was or how, he always put his 100%. You smile at him trying to hit a high note of one of Justin Bieber songs, and let out a laugh in the process. You take his hand and caress it with your thumb, he looks at you surprised and stops singing. “What's wrong?”

“I love you” You whispered, hypnotized in his eyes. He smiles and leans over, holding your chin, gently giving you a kiss. It was slow and gentle, his lips were soft against yours, and they were moving with synchrony. Like he knew you in and out, what you needed, indeed. He broke the kiss, leaving a centimeter between you two, while he takes a lock of your hair and puts it behind your ear.

“I love you too” He replied also in a whisper looking at your face carefully, like he wanted to remember every single freckle or other aspect of your face. As he hasn't done it already. He first looks at your lips, the temptation incarnate. Nothing was as distracting and beautiful as your lips, simply he loved that. Then he looks up to your cheeks and nose. He loved to kiss them, to him, they were the cutest thing on your face. Then finally, he looks at your eyes. His favorite thing on planet earth. He claimed that they were as beautiful and unique as the sky. He always told you those things, many times before. Still, he repeated them, to make sure you remember how beautiful you are. You let out a nervous laugh because of his piercing look and lean your head, confused.  

“What?” He shakes his head as if it’s something stupid. “Just… I missed you so much.” He says as leans over to give you a kiss on the forehead. “So much” 

You feel his warm breathing in your left cheek as he goes down to kiss it. Then he does the same with your other cheek, before making a final move, laying a kiss on the top of your nose. He was taking his time filling your face with love and affection, like it was the last thing he was able to do. “I swear, I just can’t get enough of you” He says in the corner of your lips to place another kiss. You smile and try to look away from the embarrassment. His hands went again to your chin to make you look at him. You look at his lips, feeling in the inside of your body the tension you two missed over the last days. His gaze of pure affection makes you feel warm in your chest and butterflies in your lower stomach. He stays inches away from your lips, waiting for your approval, but clearly to you, he didn’t need it. You bend closer to him, eliminating the space between you two, pressing your lips together. Your hand was on his cheek, passing your fingers against his hair, while the other one was on his chest. Mark grabs your waist with a firm grip, approaching you to him. The kiss was desperate, full of passion, nothing like the past ones. “Come here” He whispers raspy, breaking the kiss to take air as he pushes you to his lap. Chills come down your spine when you listen to his tone. You put your legs around his body, your hands in the back of his neck. This time, he starts the kiss by grabbing your hair with one hand and the other one still holding your waist. He was moving his lips slowly but with a hungry matter, helpless by your body on top of him. Your body feels hotter by every move of your boyfriend, full of emotions forgotten through your days apart. As a reaction to all of this, you left out a whimper against his lips, leaving him enough space for him to enter his tongue to your mouth. You move your waist a little to feel him more, instantly, Mark groans in your mouth as a reaction. “Don’t tease me baby, please” He whispers, lowering his mouth to get to your neck. He presses his lips against your soft and now hot skin with a wet kiss, biting a little to taunt you. You bite your lower lip trying to stay quiet, he knew your weak point. “Now who is teasing?” You say mocking him. He laughs, leaving a warm sight that gives you chills. Then goes back to your lips fervently, his hands moving past your body without any shame. Yours were in his neck, trying to pull him closer with the nonexistent distance you had. When his hands were going under your shirt, you heard a knock in the wall that separated the two parts of the car. You stop instantly, looking at Mark with panic in your eyes. Reality hits you like cold water, you weren’t alone. Obviously, you forgot that. 

“What?” Your boyfriend asked, pissed because your moment was interrupted. “Mister Lee, you have five minutes. Then we have to go back to the company.” Mark cusses underneath his breath and closes his eyes. Now you understand why he was acting like he didn’t have enough time. He actually didn’t have it. “Okay, just… just keep driving, please.” He says, in conflict with himself, grabbing his temple. The car moved with the same speed as before. “I’m sorry I didn't tell you.” He says without looking at you with embarrassment. “They just gave me an hour recess, the members stayed at the company but I just… I just really wanted to see you” You were pissed, but not at him. You were mad at the universe, for tearing both apart. For the unfair situation. But you were not going to spend the last five minutes with your boyfriend for god knows how long, making a fuss. So you grab his chin to make him look at you. His gaze was angry, as also sad. The same feelings you had. You lean your forehead against his and close your eyes, sensing his skin with all your faculties. “It's okay. It doesn’t matter now.” His breathing got heavier as he shook his head. You also knew him like the palm of your hand. You knew his anxiety of the future was caving in. His mind having all the questions both of you didn’t have an answer. “Hey, focus on me.” You say, leaning a hand in his chest, the other one still in his head. You breathe calmly, trying for him to follow you. It’s difficult, but he does it with time. Then you start talking.

 “I love you. Nothing matters. That’s the only thing you need to think about now. Okay?” He doesn’t do anything, still with his eyes closed trying to keep his breath under control, you fear he is going to have a panic attack. After a while, he nods. You smile and give him a quick kiss. “You’re unstoppable.” He smiles remembering his text and opens his eyes, finally looking at you. “We are” he states, looking at you directly, with a gaze you think is full of starlight. You feel tears in your throat, but you swallow them. You don’t want to cry now. “That’s my golden boy” You gave him another kiss, this time longer but sweet. He stays still for a second, then wraps his arms around your body in a hug, breathing hard for the strong emotions inside him. If he had the power, he would steal you right now, and hide you where no one or nothing could stop him from loving you, over and over. You separate and rest on his forehead. He caressed your nose with his, then lefts a giggle out of his mouth. 

“How about one more song?” You say, grabbing his phone to look for one specific thing. He leans his head confused and tries to take a look, but you move away from his gaze. “C’mon, babe, let me see.” He says sulky, you laugh and shake your head. “You’ll see. Just wait a mo - oh, there it is.” You press play and the intro of Locked out of heaven from Bruno Mars starts to play. Mark leans his head back and screams. “Yo! Babe, that's my song!” You smile and start to get out of his lap, however, he pulls you back, holding your waist. “Where are you going? Sing with me.” He grabs the mic and starts to sing the first line, before leaning the mic to you to sing the second. You follow his dynamic with a goofy smile and start to sing, moving your head. When the song hits the chorus, the two of you sing in the same mic, enjoying yourselves totally. Screaming the lyrics to each other because you felt like you were locked out of heaven because of each other. As your love felt wrong and incorrect, clearly the world practically was keeping you apart, it felt so good. Like two angels intertwined on a mission to find and love one another. The bridge was coming along and Mark made a howling sound to the ceiling, you laughed and followed him, feeling more alive than ever. “Are you ready baby?” He asks, moving his head to the rhythm. You nod, smiling at him, watching how his excitement was filling his body. “Okay, let’s go!” He shouts before singing the bridge with you. You feel like all the happiness in the world was headed your way. Closing your eyes, singing your heart out with the man you loved. You look at him just when you both sang, “Can I just stay here?! Spend the rest of my days here?!” You observed how the veins of his neck were pumping out since he sang so loudly. His eyes closed, shrinking, trying to hit the right note. You smile, watching your boyfriend be happy before he goes. He then looks at you and locks his gaze with yours, holding your hand tight while the other still held the mic. Basically, the only thing that was separating your lips. Then he presses his forehead against yours to feel closer to you. “Can I just stay here?! Spend the rest of my days here?! Cause you make me feel like, I’ve looked out of heaven” You both sing to the mic, smiling and actually begging to god or whatever is up there, to let you stay with each other. You feel the tears coming to your eyes because this moment was about to end. You could barely sing anymore, so you stop and put your hand against your face. Mark drops the mic, letting the last part of the song go, to hold the back of your head and let you rest in his shoulder. You let yourself go and cry without any shame. Your boyfriend feels the tears coming as well, however he didn’t drop any of them. His concentration was fully into you. He kept stroking your hair and kissing your cheek repeatedly. With your fingers, you start to hold strongly to his sleeves. Believing, he wouldn't go away for that, unfortunately you and him didn't control that. 

The car stopped, and you started shaking your head, knowing what's coming next. “Baby” Marks whispers in your ear, fondling the back of your head with one hand and the other one on your waist. “Just one second” You instantly responded, holding him close without looking at him. You thought that if you did, your heart would break more than it already is. “Baby please, I need to-” “Just, just give a moment” Another knock from the wall came. “Mister Lee, we’re outside the company. You need to get out of the car” Mark was really trying to hold himself together at this point. “Give me one minute, please” He says with his jaw clenched, trying not to break something. “Y/n, please look at me. I’m not gonna forgive myself if you don't” He begs you, raising his hand to your cheek to separate you from his shoulder. You do, but you still look down sobbing, while looking at his chest. The heart of your boyfriend was broken by seeing you like this. He pressed his cheeks against yours, attempting to form a connection with you. He needed you to look at him, one last time. “Please y/n. Look at me” By his implore, you raise your gaze and meet his dark eyes. You instantly broke and Mark does it with you. “When you’ll be back?” You ask, wiping his tears away. He does the same with you, his lips forming a line. “I don't know. I have to stay at the dorm for the promotion, and then they want to do another comeback with dream.” You cursed and look at the ceiling, trying to stop your crying. “Hey, hey, no, no. We won't say goodbye like this.” He says, holding your head with his hands on your cheeks, making you look down. You close your eyes and cup his hand. “I don't want to say goodbye.” You whisper, finally opening your eyes. The man in front of you was tired. Of his schedule, his tireless work, and most importantly tired of being apart from you. A strong kiss closed the distance between both, and his breathing left strong through his nose. The kiss felt wet and salty because of your tears. Your hands were on the side of his head, pushing him to you. Mark deepened the kiss and you followed him gladly.  Both of you didn't want to separate, but sadly, breathing was necessary for you. When you broke the kiss, Mark says in your lips after. “Sorry, I said it wrong.” You look at him confused, as a response he gives you a quick kiss before saying. “It's a see you soon”.

The tears were appearing again, but he focused on kissing you. His hands were hugging your back, pulling you closer together. Your lips were in synchrony, however, they were interrupted by a knock on the window. “Dude, I say a minute please” Marks says against your lips trying to continue, suddenly the door open and shown your boyfriend's teammate, Johnny. “Hey y/n.” He says flirty, leaning his body to the door of the car. You feel the blood rising to your checks, and try to hide it in the neck of your boyfriend. “Hi” you say, still there. “Johnny, what are you doing here?” Mark ask, putting his hand in your hair to caress it. A laugh comes from the best friend of your boyfriend. “Taeyong is calling us to the practice room.” You also hear a pause, like he's taking it time to say what's next. “Sorry man, but we have to go. Now” You know he means it. Johnny was one of the first to support your relationship. He wanted to see Mark happy, same as you. So you thank him silently when he closed the door after he said. “You have 30 seconds to do whatever you please. But dude, I'm serious, 30 seconds.” Mark nods and sighs. You feel Jonny walking away a little, to give you space, and Mark started talking. “We don't have much time.” “I know” You answer, leaving his lap for good. He lets out a groan of disapproval, but you better step off now. You both stay quiet for a few seconds, just looking at each other, feeling each other hands. It was you who started the conversation. “What I told you before, it wasn't a lie” He settles to the side to see you better. “I know, but I can’t stop thinking about the damage that this is causing.” You get close and took his face. “Better to be like this together, than being apart” He analyzed you, trying to see any regret on your face, nevertheless, he didn’t find anything. “Unstoppable, remember?” You state, smiling, Mark gives you a little laugh and nod with his head. He leans closer to your face and kiss you gently, pulling a piece of your hair behind your ear. After you separate, you rest in his shoulder, with Mark leaving kisses in your forehead. “I love you” he whispers, caressing your arm with his fingertips, giving you chills in the process. “I love you too” you respond, giving him a kiss in the shoulder. He holds you close by wrapping his arms around you and placing his head on top of yours. You stay like that for a while.

After a few seconds, you hear a knock on the window. “Dude, I can’t extend this any longer.” Mark sighs and separates from you. Jonny leans against the car to wait for him. “See you soon?” Mark says, putting his hand against your check. “Yeah” you whisper before kissing him. The door opens and Johnny pulls Mark by the sleeve outside the car. “Let's go Romeo” He says, pushing him to the doors of the company. He almost trips by his best friend strength, but manage to stay on his feet. He turns and waves at you, walking backwards before entering the company. Your heart breaks by every step he took, and you let the tears that remain in your system fall in your face. “I had to take him out, if I didn't, he would probably run away with you.” Johnny states gently. You sniff and nod. “We don’t want that” You say looking at him, the expression he gave you was comprehensive. He shakes his head softly. “No, we don’t” What's best for Mark, apart from knowing him, that was the reason Johnny and you were friends. “The car is gonna drop you at home, so just try to relax. Okay?” He tells you, placing his arm against the door frame. You nod and try to wipe your tears and smile. “Take care of him for me, would you?” He laughs and nods. “It won’t be long, you know? It’s just because you love each other so much, that you think it is going to be an eternity before you see each other.” You giggle and sigh, resting your back on the seat. You suddenly felt tired. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You respond, closing your eyes in the process. Johnny reads your body and leaves a small smile. “Have a safe travel, y/n” He says before closing the door. Yet before he closed the door you say “Thank you, Johnny, for everything.” You didn't see him, but he smiles at you with carrying and closes the door. After you hear two knocks on the roof of the car, this started moving. Your body felt palled after all those emotions, and you started to get sleepy. Before your whole system could go to the lands of dreams, you remember the words of Johnny. With a smile on your face, you start to feel hope. Believing truly that it won't be long before you see your golden boy again.

3 weeks later. 

Your legs were heavier than ever trying to climb the stairs of your building. Since you were on vacation, you decided to have a job full time in the cafeteria a few blocks away. Obviously now, you were regretting your decision. But hey, at least the money is always good. When you reach your floor, you feel relieve. At least, it was Friday. So you would have the whole weekend to relax. Sadly, you would have to do that alone. Mark was still busy with his calendar, however, he called every night to check on you. So you didn’t felt so sad about his absence.  When you get to your door, you open your bag pack to find your keys. The panic started to rise when you didn't find them there. You also opened the front pocket but again nothing. You curse and kick the door, angry. Now you had to look for the locksmith downstairs, which meant you had to experience the pain of your legs all over again. Just because you forgot your keys inside, when you left the apartment in the morning. When you started to walk away, preparing yourself for torture, you feel the door open. You turn scared believing it was a ghost, however the surprise came in when you see your boyfriend, leaning in the door frame holding your keys with his finger. “Your hero to the rescue, again.” He says with the raspy voice you missed. You gasp, covering your mouth in surprise. Your brain couldn’t load the information that was happening. “Dude, you're kidding” You say, still with your hand on your mouth. He smiles at how cute your reaction is. “I'm not.” In a quick movement, he takes your arm to pull you to him and give you a passionate kiss. His lips moving, with hunger and desire. Your tiredness and lack of motivation stop from existing. Your backpack drops from your shoulder but Mark grabs it quickly with one hand. The other one was reaching down your lower back, pulling you closer to feel him more. He breaks the kiss to go lower to your neck. You bit your lip to not let any embarrassed sound come out, since you were still in the hallway. “Inside now” You whisper with need in his ear. He grins against your neck and pulls you to the apartment to not waste any more time to love you. 

[lowkeyremi]

I'm home (Sakusa x inferred blackfem!reader)

Content: Reader studies abroad in america and has finally come home to see her volleyball bf <33

thank u for almost 400 followers, honestly i have no idea why u guys follow me lmaoo

No cw just fluff

"Are you sure he misses me?" Those pretty acrylics you got done before leaving the states tapped your phone as it was pressed up against your ear. 

"How many times are you gonna ask? He's your boyfriend, so you of all people should know he misses you. Badly. It's always "I wish she were here", or "(x) more months until she's home." He's always talking about you." Motoya scolds over the phone, you're standing by the baggage claim waiting for your suitcase to appear on the conveyor belt.

"Don't give me that attitude, you're his cousin, which was why I was asking." You push a braid behind your ear, wearing a protective style is important especially for traveling. You don't have the time to put up with your hair. 

"Sorry, sorry. Anyway, are you stopping by Osaka first or what?" His voice is filled with pure curiosity. A groan escapes your throat. How long does it take for one suitcase to come out? You should have checked it in as a carry-on. 

"Well I'm closer to Tokyo so I wanna head there first. I'm gonna surprise Kiyo." The jet lag is finally starting to hit you, it's about 11:30ish pm in Tokyo while back home it's 10:30ish am. 

"Alright, make sure to come visit me and Suna though, actually how long did you say you were staying? We play the jackals next week. Maybe we can all get together!" He seems very excited, it's evident in his voice. 

"I'll be here for the next month and a half. I'm so fucking tired." He chuckles, "it might take a night or two, you've been in the states so long." 

"Yeah, I was gonna get a rental but I might just uber to Kiyo's apartment." Motoya hears you yawn. 

"E-excuse me, are you tourist?" A woman asks you in broken english. 

"It's better if you rest then see Kiyoomi tomorr-"

"I'll call you back, Toya." He tries to say something but you're already pressing the red decline button. 

"No, I'm just here visiting family. I'm studying abroad in the states." You answer back in english. The lady stares at you as if she's trying to understand what you just said. 

You repeat your sentence in japanese and she replies meekly, "I'm sorry, I just assumed you were american because of your skin. I just wanted to say it's super pretty." She smiles at you shyly.

"Well you wouldn't be too far off, I'm half american. Also thank you, you're so sweet." She nods and walks off to get her suitcase.

"Finally! My suitcase." A few people stare at you, when they see you jump up in triumph, they musn’t understand your impacience. 

------

"Where to?"  The cab driver asks. He seems pretty fed up and his cab smells of cigarettes. 

"Let me pull up the address really quickly, I'm sorry." He sighs impatiently while you hurry to type in your password to find Kiyoomi's address in the messages shared between you two. 

"Okay, it's xxxxxxxxx." The man nods. The slow hum of the cab let’s you know that he’s began driving and your eyes close. Secretly you hope to get a little rest, not that it would help much. The man hits the gas and you jerk forward, luckily your seat belt keeps you from hitting the passenger seat's head restraint. 

"Sorry 'bout that." There’s a tinge of sarcasm laced within his voice and it holds no real empathy. Instinctively your eyes roll. Why do people have to make other people’s day bad just because their day was bad? He's definitely not getting a good review from you. 

The drive was about thirty minutes with traffic being slow at such late hours. The street lights of Tokyo make it hard to sleep, it’s so unnaturally bright.

Where you live now is nothing compared to the brightly lit streets of Tokyo. Sleep is no longer an option, those pretty eyes of yours trail certain restaurants and shops the cab drives by.

The cab driver hit the brake indicating that you’ve arrived at your destination. Within seconds he turns around to look you in your eyes, “cash or card?”

You don’t have much yen on you. Making a stop by an atm is your top priority for tomorrow. “Card, what’s my total?” 

He scratches his head. He best not make up a price on the spot, that’s super annoying. The total isn’t too bad, luckily. He definitely charged you more than he deserved though, yes it was timely but customer service was awful, if you could even call that customer service. 

Excitement was hot in your stomach as you stepped out of the yellow cab. The tokyo air felt so nice against your skin, it feels amazing to be back, even if only for a little while. Once you’ve collected your bags it was time to walk into the apartment building. 

The receptionist looks up to meet your eyes when he notices you. "Are you a new resident or are you visiting?" His voice is perfectly generated, you don’t quite remember him from last time, but he must have been working here awhile to nail that voice. 

"I'm visiting." You bite your glossed lip, the flavor of peach invades your mouth. It’s Kiyoomi’s favorite. Mainly because the first time he bought it for you, it was a last minute first date gift. Since then it’s stuck with both of you, he enjoys the way it tastes on his lips after you kiss him. 

"Alrighty, do you know which apartment you're visiting? I'll ring to let them know you're here. It is quite late after all." He says, glancing back at his computer. 

The plan is to surprise Kiyoomi.. you set your bag down on top of your suitcase. 

"Do you mind if I just go up? It's been a few months, and I want to surprise my boyfriend." The man stops for a second, "In that case go ahead, but let me tell you, many people come to surprise boyfriends or girlfriends and they end up breaking up because said s/o wasn't expecting them and was seeing their side piece."

You giggle, it's wrong to laugh at such a story but you know your Kiyoomi. He misses you so much, everyday when you facetime he whines about wanting to see you. 

"I thought that was only in very cringey romance movies but thanks for the heads up." He nods and sends you on your way. You make a mental note to get a new suitcase. Yours is ratty and the wheel is broken which means you must drag it everywhere. That is not convenient, especially when traveling a lot.

His apartment is on the fifth floor of the building. "Where's the key he gave me?" A groan escapes your lips. You really hope that excitement didn't override your rationality and that this key is somewhere in your purse. 

Frantically searching, it turns up under a bunch of other crap you don’t need. Without Kiyoomi to lecture about your messy purse it’s become a nightmare inside of it.  "Oh thank God, I can't ruin this."

Ding. It's finally time, excitement creeps up in your body. It's been about seven months since you've seen Kiyoomi in person. He came to the states for christmas to see you. 

With him being a pro athlete and you being a college student, it's hard to find time in your schedules to spend time with one another. Long distance relationships aren't the easiest and you missed him terribly. The thought of seeing him kept you busy while flying. Now.. now you're right in front of his door. 

With patience you slide the key into the lock and twist it the right way in order to open the door. 

You hear footsteps, Kiyoomi's lamp is on in his room. What's he still doing up? Doesn't he have practice later?

"Motoya, I fucking told you I'm not watching a movie with you when I have practice later-" Your boyfriend stops at the genkan when he sees you. 

All the anger in his face disappears and his face smooths out. Before you can even process what's happening, those long arms of your Kiyoomi are around you. You practically melt in his touch, becoming one with him.

“What are you doing here, baby? I- when did you land?” He asks all at once, his sweet breath right in your ear. He smells like vanilla and cinnamon, “God I missed the way you smell.” Is all you can say at the moment.

“I just landed like an hour ago, came to see my man before I go visit anyone else.” That chuckle of his warms your heart. He’s going to be the death of you, for sure. 

“I was just about to call you, it’s like 12pm in the states right?” He asks.

“Something like that. I love you so much.” It’s so random but true, you do love him. 

“I love you too, so so fucking much. I can’t tell you how desperate I was getting to see you.” He sighs. He leans back slightly to take in your face, you do the same. He’s so handsome and beautiful at the same time. 

You pull him by his collar to kiss those lips you love so much. Honestly you expected this kiss to be desperate but it was passionate and slow. He placed his hands on your face, they’re warm and inviting. You break the kiss and he smiles at you.

It reminds you of how much a grouch your boyfriend was when you had first met him. He was always frowning or pouting. He keeps telling you he doesn’t pout but you know what you saw. His hands don’t leave your face and hell if you mind. 

“I’m finally home.” You say with a small content sigh. It’s only for a month that you’ll be home, but soon enough you’ll graduate and get to live with him permanently. 

“Yes, my baby is finally home.”