#i’m sorry the world made you feel like you only had one path

[magics-neptunes-things]

Cheetah

Hello everyone!

So for once this isn't a request, but more something who was walking in my head rent free and I just had to write it.

I don't know a lot about motorcycle to be honest but i made some research, so if there is some incoherence, I'm sorry!

Also I start to translate the English in Spanish before stopping, because in the end almost everyone is supposed to talk in Spanish and I'm really bad at it (I only can command something to eat and drink).

Please let me know what you think about it and enjoy ♥

TW : Moto accident, Angst, Injuries and a little bit of autodestruction maybe.

“Come on Cheetah, everyone’s waiting for you!”

You sigh softly, putting the picture you were looking at in your bag. It’s a picture of your ex-girlfriend and yourself, during your happy days. It’s been three months since the breakup and you are still mourning the end of your relationship like if it was the first hours. You still feel numb and if like someone is constantly crushing your heart in their iron grip. It’s not getting better, and it probably never will. Ona was, is, the love of your life and it’s just impossible for you to recover from it.

Falling for Ona was easy. You met her when you were both 20, even if you come from Palma de Mallorca and not Barcelona. You are a athlete too, so it wasn’t hard to cross her path at one of the Spanish awards. Patri Guijarro was there too and like you she comes from Mallorca, so she introduced you both and the rest is history.

When Ona moved to Manchester, you follow her. You find a team to train your motorcycle and your skills there. You were still young but promising on the circuit and you didn’t have trouble the find someone to help you getting better. And better you get. Just like Ona in Manchester United, you easily improve your skills and became one of the best in the world. Sure, you were sometimes away from home and Ona for your competitions, but everything was perfect.

When Ona came back to Barcelona, you flow back with her too. Some of your team came with you, some other didn’t but you can’t hold it against them. You find people to replace them and continue to race on the top of the leader boards.

The breakup didn’t come from nowhere, you can’t say that. You knew how much Ona was worried when you race, scared that you hurt yourself. You never had a big injury until now. But just after Christmas, you were implicated in an accident and Ona had trouble to concentrate in something else than that since that day.

It wasn’t your fault honestly; you just weren’t able to avoid the motorcycles already lying on the road. So, you made a gliding flight and had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, nothing too serious. But Ona was in Barcelona while you were in Qatar, and it took almost two hours for you to be able to call her, even if you make everything possible to have your phone back.

That’s what pushed Ona to break up with you.

“I can’t keep focusing on your future death while I’m in training or supposed to be concentrated on something important, Y/N/N. I’m so sorry.” was what she told you.

Can you blame her? No. Did she told you it was because she doesn’t love you anymore? No. Did you try everything to make her change her mind? Yes. You even told her that you will stop your sport. But she’s not with you anymore and it hurt like hell.

“Hi Cheetah!” make one of your opponent when you arrive in the garage, where the motorcycles are stored.

“Hola” you mumble back.

Cheetah is your nickname, because of your speed and the feline way you stand on your bike. But it’s especially Ona’s favorite animal. You wonder if she’s still looking at your race sometimes. Probably not. You never asked Patri who became your friend with the years, the girl never talked about your breakup either. You like it that way.

One hour after, you are on your bike, ready to start your race. Your helmet is a notch off from what security recommends, but you prefer to wear it like that. Ona had forbidden you to do so and you had accepted her request without flinching. But Ona isn’t here anymore, and you have no one to care about.

Well, your brother who is in your team maybe. And probably your parents, but even if you love them, they aren’t Ona.

The qualifying rounds put you in fourth place at the start, but after a daring overtaking you manage to get gain the third place. The weather is great honestly, a little bit sunny maybe but it’s better than the rain. You are in Italy after all.

The fight for the second place is hard, your opponent always manages to stand in your way to keep you from reaching it. It starts to frustrate you, even if your team keeps telling you in the helmet to take no risks. You don’t listen to them, still being careful not to make faults though, you don’t want to have any penalty against you.

“Lenta, hermanita por favor!” (Slower, my little sister please!)

You hear your brother’s voice but don’t listen to him either. He will probably kill you for it after the race , but if you manage to get the second place, it’s worth it right? Winning is the only thing that you have left. The only thing that makes you feel a little alive.

That’s why you don’t hesitate to take other risks to get the second place. Plot twist, you shouldn’t have.

It’s the first time since you’re a teenager that you lose the control of your motorcycle, but it’s a strange feeling. You feel yourself flying and the helmet getting ripped off your head during the crash. After that it’s all black, you just have little moments of consciousness from time to time.

“No no no no no! ¡ Y/N No me hagas esto! Respira por favor!” (Don’t do that! Breath please!”)

That’s your brother voice. You don’t know where you are, you hear people screaming and probably running next to you. But you are too tired. Falling asleep now probably will help you feel better, right?

“Sigue luchando. Piensa en Ona." (Keep fighting. Think about Ona.)

Ona? You think about her every single second of the day. You are surprised by this statement, but it has the advantage to wake you up a little. Your brother usually never mention your ex-girlfriend, knowing how much the breakup is destroying you.

“Alright we take her to the ambulance, now!”

If you were able, you probably would have rolled your eyes because of the strength that this man screamed with. You are not even able to open your eyes though, and you hate the way you feel your body not responding to what you want. But your head hurt and soon you are asleep again.

The next time you are awake, it was way quiet. You hear your parents and your brother, but you have to make a big effort to understand what they are saying.

“She called her name several times in the ambulance, but she’s asleep since”

Well, that’s embarrassing. It’s useless to wonder which name you called, there only is one woman in your head after all.

“Did you call her?”

Your mother.

“No. Y/N would have probably hated me if I did.”

Is he right? Maybe. You’ll think about it later.

“She has the right to know how Y/N is.”

Point for your father.

“I’ll call Patri instead.”

Well, it’s probably better that way. Patri is one of your best friends and if Ona wants to have news of you, she will ask Patri. But once again, she probably has no interest about your health anymore.

You fall back asleep again soon after that.

Patri’s face is white when she reaches the gym of FC Barcelona Femeni. It’s not Ona who realized it first, your ex-girlfriend is focused on her exercises next to Mariona.

“Patri you alright?” Pina asks, looking at her friend with worry.

Everyone raises their gaze on the girl, but she’s only looking at Ona. And Ona knows, right there. She gulps and stand up, her hand shaking.

“What happened?” Ona asks quietly.

But Patri takes her by the hand to take her out. She doesn’t want to explain to Ona what happened in front of the others. She doesn’t know how the younger one will react at the news, and she’s scared of her reaction to be honest. Every single person in the team know how much Ona is sad about your breakup, even if she’s the one who chose to have it that way.

“Y/N had an accident during the race” Patri starts, looking at Ona with attention. “I don’t know what her injuries are or anything else. But she has that awful crash, and they came with the ambulance and those kinds of white curtains.”

Ona knows what the curtains are for. It’s to protect the dignity of the runner in the case of a serious injury… or worse. Very worse. Her face passes from white to green.

“Is there a video from the crash?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to…”

But Ona doesn’t listen. Like you, she’s stubborn. She wants to know. She needs to know. She doesn’t know when the accident happened, but the video of it is easy to find on social media. She doesn’t react at all during several seconds and Patri wondered if Ona’s mind crashed, too.

“She loosened her helmet” Ona whispers at first.

“What?” Patri frowned.

“She loosened her helmet! She loosened her helmet and now she’s probably dead!”

Ona’s shouting and Patri prefer that, but it’s surprising. Ona isn’t the kind of girl who shout usually. She puts a comforting hand on Ona’s arm before talking.

“We don’t know that for now” she tries, with a comforting voice.

“Haven’t you seen the crash? Haven’t you seen of hard her head hit the ground? She didn’t move after that! At all!”

Patri doesn’t know what to answer at that. Ona’s right and she regrets to have inform her so soon, without having news of you. Or your brother, who had kind of a crush for Patri before realizing that she’s as gay as you are. You still tease him about it years later.

“I’ll try to call her brother, ok? But for now, let’s get out of here.”

When you wake up next time, you have enough strength to be able to open your eyes. You don’t know what time it is, but the sun is shining behind almost closed blinds. There is someone on a chair next to you, but you are disappointed to realize that it’s only your brother. Not Ona.

“Hola” he whispers when he realizes that your awake.

You only answer with a grunt, unable to talk for now. You feel sleepy again, but you want to talk with him a little bit.

“We are at the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

You close your eyes briefly to make him understand that you remember. Your throat feels too scratchy to talk for now. You’ll learn later that they have to intubate you to keep you alive.

“You’re lucky you’re alive, I’ll kill you a second time if you weren’t. They want to get you back in Barcelona tonight, are you okay with that?”

You don’t answer right away. Why can’t they keep you here?

“The team think it would be easier to be somewhere where they speak Spanish. And we will be closer to Mama and Papi.”

Your brother seems to understand your questions. It’s a great thing that you are both so close. You close your eyes again now and he nods before taking your hand in his. You don’t really care where you are taking care off after all.

“You can sleep now. You need to rest to get better, ok?”

You squeeze his finger softly before closing your eyes for good now, falling asleep again. You are still asleep during the transfer to Barcelona and when you wake up again you are in the Spanish’s city hospital.

Once again, it’s your brother who is here when you open your eyes. He changed his clothes but he’s still here, reading a newspaper with his feet on your bed.

“Don’t you have a house?” you groan.

He rolls his eyes after having looked at you for two seconds. Maybe to realize that he wasn’t dreaming. He threw carefully the journal next to you without putting his feet down, but everything is still blur.

“I can’t read it” you whisper.

“The Spanish’ motorcycle prodigy almost died in an awful crash yesterday. Her condition remains alarming” your brother read for you.

He’s angry. You don’t answer anything, what should you say anyway? You know that it’s your fault, if you were a little more careful nothing of that would have happened. You know too that you aren’t on the point to die, your brother wouldn’t have scolded you if that was the case.

“What are my injuries?” you ask without looking at him.

He sighs loudly before answering.

“You have broken ribs, a broken tibia, your cheekbone too, your elbow is in pieces, your shoulder has been dislocated again and you have a massive concussion. They thought that you have something broken in your spine, but it’s just a massive bruise. Oh, and you have other bruises almost on every part of your body, when it’s not burn because of the asphalt. They had to put stitches somewhere on your head and your brow bone too.”

you stay silence for several seconds, completely stunned. These are massive injuries, you know it. It will probably need a lot of time to heal all of them and that mean that you will miss the end of the championship. You were on the top 3, and it’s an awful disillusionment for you. You were already picturing yourself on the podium at the end of the season.

“How many time am I supposed to stay in bed? Before starting my rehab?”

He frowns softly, not expecting this question.

“They don’t know for now if you elbow will be well enough to start racing again”

“Of course it will be” you snort.

“No” your brother answer. “It’s serious, Y/N. You maybe won’t be able to drive a motorcycle again. On a circuit at least.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t have the choice. This is all I have left now.”

Your breakup was awful for you, but it was for your family too. You weren’t always careful with you, but Ona pushed you to be reasonable and stayed in the track. Now you don’t have anyone to hold you back. Ona was the only one you were listening. You don’t listen to anyone now. Only your Abuela when she when she emotional blackmails you. But your loved ones try not to use that card too much to not burn it.

“You have to stop that. You still have people who care for you. The Oldies do, I do, your friends do. I know that the breakup sucks, but you can’t play with your life like you do.”

“Piss off” is all you mumble back.

Because you know he’s right, but what are you supposed to do now that he’s here with you and you would give ten years of your life to swap him with Ona? He doesn’t answer anything, knowing that you’re out of arguments and that you know he’s right.

“Did she… Did she call you?”

“She didn’t have to” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I called Patri as soon as we were in your hospital room in Italy.”

This hurt a little more, to be honest. You are not aware that Ona was with Patri every time she received a call or a message from your brother. You sight softly before closing your eyes. Your head starts to hurt like hell, which is probably normal for a concussion.

You wake up several hours later and you already know that it’s the night. There isn’t any noise coming from outside your room and no light from outside. But there is someone sitting on the chair next to you.

“Ona?”

It’s seems almost impossible, but it’s definitively Ona. You are able to recognize her silhouette in the dark after all these years passed with her. Even if you haven’t seen her in the last three months.

“It’s worse than anything” she mumbles, looking somewhere near your broken leg.

“What?”

“Not knowing how you are. I thought that break up with you will help me to stop worrying about your races, but it’s worse every time. I almost called you or messaged you before every race just to hear your voice, but I just couldn’t. And then I learned about your accident, and I have to live with the thought that you were dead for several hours.”

She raises her eyes on you, and you have trouble to support her gaze, even if you are in the dark.

“I’m sorry” you finally say.

“Really?”

She seems unconvinced and she has every right to be. She knows you, better than anyone.

“Well, I’m sorry that you were worried because of me. But as you see, I’m alive.”

She rolls her eyes and let her back go against the chair she is sitting on. You still feel strange, without knowing if it’s because of the drugs or because you are dreaming. You don’t have really anything to lose, so you ask.

“Is it real life?”

Ona looked at you with an obvious surprise on her beautiful face. God you missed her so damn much.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it real or am I dreaming?”

“Are you making the move where you ask me if I am an angel?”

You stupidly laugh before regretting it, your ribs protesting hardly. Ona seems alarmed when you groan in pain, putting your non-injured hand on it.

“I’m ok” you whisper, taking several small breaths, the big one would have been too hurtful.

“You are not” Ona mumbles.

She’s right.

“It’s less painful than the thought that I lost you.”

She sighs once again and looks at her fingers before shaking her head softly. You wanted to grab her hand, but she’s on your bad side and your arm is in that awful cast.

“Tell me what I have to do to have a second chance, Oni. I’ll do every single thing you’ll ask me. I swear. Please” you beg when she stays silence for several seconds.

“What if I ask you to stop your stupid moto?”

There is a challenge in her voice, and you know why. One time, she told you that she’s not even sure that if she asks you to choose between her and your sport, you’ll chose her. At that time, you didn’t know that she was serious, you thought that it was something she wasn’t thinking and said due to the fight. How wrong you were.

“I’ll do it” you answer without any doubt.

She seems surprised, looking at you with two big eyes. You have always loved Ona’s eyes, some people said that brown eyes are the most common and expressionless. They never have crossed Ona’s gaze.

“I saw what a life without you is Ona and I don’t want that life. I want you and if I have to stop my sport, I’ll do it if you still want me.”

She sighs and rubs her eyes. She seems tired to be honest, but maybe because it’s the middle of the night and that she’s supposed to be asleep right now.

“I didn’t break up with you because I don’t love you anymore. I still do and I think I will for all my life. I need you to be a part of my life too.”

Her words are melody in your ears, but you feel like there still is something else. Like if something was restraining her.

“But…?” you mumble, looking for her eyes.

“But I can’t continue like this. I thought you were dead.”

She’s crying now and your heart hurt like if someone just punch it. You move in the bed, trying desperately to touch her or anything to try to comfort her. Your ribs and your legs burn awfully, and you ignore your elbow hurting in protest.

“Ona I’m so sorry, I swear” you say, managing to take her hand in yours.

The position is awful, and you wonder briefly if you can throw up even if you haven’t eaten anything since almost two days.

“I didn’t think it will hurt you that way. Please don’t cry” you continue.

She shakes her head softly, kind of laughing between her tears.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you left me. And you blocked me everywhere.”

That point hurts, too. You weren’t even able to look at her social media to have news of her, you were reduced to follow fan’s account of her.

“I just couldn’t live with you popping randomly on my timelines. It hurts too much every time.”

You nod and that the gesture who make your position too hurtful. You roll on your back, trying to hold your whine of pain. But Ona sees it anyway and frown almost instantly.

“Do you want me to call them to have more painkillers?”

“Are they ok with you being here? I don’t want them to make you leave” you admit with a law voice.

There is a beam of silence.

“I won’t leave your side” she says in a comforting voice.

You want to believe that she means it for like all your life. But having her tonight is what you have best for now. So, you nod, closing shortly your eyes when she rings the nurses. The door is open only a minute after and you open your eyes again when you hear Ona’s voice.

“I think she’s ready for more painkillers” the brunette says.

“I will give some to you” the nurse says to you before adding something in your intravenous. “What hurts?”

“Everything” you admit softly.

She nods and gives you a smile in sympathy. You look at her doing her things, missing Ona’s small winces at your admission. The nurse starts to talk again when she’s at the door, ready to leave.

“You will feel better like this. After that it will be great if you try to eat something. You will be sleepy for now though.”

Your eyes fly to Ona who is already looking at you. She said that she will stay by your side, but does she meant while you sleep too? She probably has training or somewhere to go. A match to play? You don’t know which day is it anymore, the painkillers are starting to kick already, making you confuse.

“Ona” you manage to say.

“Sleep, Hermosa. I’ll be here when you wake up, ok?”

Two weeks after, you are finally leaving the hospital. You still have to leave in a wheelchair, much to your disappointment. But with almost half of your body injured, there is no way that you are able to walk with crutches.

The only positive thing is that the person who is pushing the wheelchair is Ona and that she managed to make it funny, sliding on it in the hospital’s floor. Your brother is following with your suitcases, smiling softly while watching both of you.

After learning that you will be alright, you parents went home in Mallorca two days before you were authorized to go home. They proposed to you to come back to Mallorca with them and you have to admit that you miss your island, but there is no way that you are somewhere Ona isn’t.

When you felt better, you had a very intense and long discussion about your relationship, both of your feelings, what you both expect from that said relationship and where you want it to go.

Ona is the one who will look after you on daily basis, but sometimes your brother will need to take you to your appointment when Ona is away or training. The end of the season is soon here, but there still is the Olympics this Summer so she has to prepare herself intensively.

Your girlfriend’s here, one month after, when you are in the doctor’s office for the worst moment of your professional life. Sitting next to you, she’s holding your hand when the doctor looks at you with an awful sorry face.

“I don’t know where to start” he begins, playing with the sheets on his desk.

“Just go straight into it, Doc” you sigh softly.

You know already that you will hate what is going to be say. Ona’s fingers stroking your hand help, but your heart is still beating faster than ever.

“You are making good progress, I saw that they removed your cast on your feet, but we are really concerned about your elbow. We don’t think it will be fit enough for you to be able to start motorcycle in a professional way anymore.”

You were waiting for it, but it’s still hurt to hear that. Motorcycle is the only thing you knew since you were a teenager, you never thought about doing anything else in your life. You swallow softly before passing a hand on your face. You did everything you can to be able to start again, followed every advice your team gave you. But it’s not enough.  

“I don’t know what to say” you finally mumble, looking at an imaginary point somewhere on the desk. “It’s all I know; I don't know how to do anything else.”

“I can pick you an appointment with our psychotherapist if you want to. It can help.”

“Can we leave? I’ll tell you if I want one”

For now, you just want to get out of this office and be able to breath some fresh air. Ona helps you to get up even if you don’t need help anymore. You suppose it’s a way to comfort you. You are glad for her. She doesn’t say anything while you are getting out of the building, but she doesn’t let your hand go when you lean against the railing once outside.

“What am I going to do, Ona?” you whisper softly.

She let go of your hand now, but it’s only to pass her arm around your waist and hold you close.

“Whatever you want mi Amor. It’s ok not to know now, but you still have a bunch of possibilities. We will figure it out together, yeah?”

She kisses your cheek, and you close your eyes, letting yourself being cuddle a little more. It’s not the same feeling that the one when you lost Ona. You know there is different exit doors, you just have to find the good one. Ona will be your light in the dark.

Several weeks later, you are in France. Not for a race, but for playing the WAG for your girlfriend who is playing the final today. She introduces you to others girlfriends/wife of her teammates and you get along great with everyone. You watched every single game in the stadium, and you were able to see Ona several times in between. You missed her and she was worried sick to let you alone at home, but you are pretty fine.

You are famous in the world of sport so it’s not a surprise that you are not able to skip some interviews while going to the stand to attend the finale.

“Y/N” said one journalist when he puts her microphone under your mouth, with an awful French accent. “You announced your retirement sooner this month because of your massive injuries. How are you feeling?”

“I’m still sad about it, of course. It wasn’t my choice and I think it makes it harder but I didn’t have the choice. I’m sad not to be able to finish the championship this year, I was really well ranked, but you know…”

You shrug, thinking that’s between his accent and yours, people on social media will have a great fun.

“Do you think you will come back in the motorcycle world one day?”

“Not as a racer obviously, but why not. I still need to figure what to do with my life, but first I have to heal correctly.”

“Thanks for your answers” he smiles. “Do you have a favorite for today?”

“Spain, obviously” you smile back.

“Have you a favorite player?”

You almost roll your eyes at that. Your relationship with Ona is a common knowledge for everyone, you are not hiding yourself. You both weren’t as famous before and you were posting without really thinking about it.

“Oh, I don’t know… Number two is pretty great” you smirk, looking at the jersey you are wearing.

You hear someone giggle in the background, and you are pretty sure to recognize Irene’s wife waiting for you with Mateo. You soon say goodbye to the journalist to find your place in the stand. You are sitting next to Ona’s family obviously and your family made the travel too. They are sitting next to other Majorcans people, Cata’s family and Mariona’s brother and mother aren’t far away neither.

When Ona smiles at you during the national anthem after looking around to find you, you smile back and say “T’estimo” to her. You know that she can’t hear you, but she easily can read it on your lips.

You don’t know what the results of this game will be, like you don’t know what you will do in several months. But you know you will be fine, because you will be with her.

Ona is your forever and you don’t want another.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #woso one shot

[i-am-a-fan]

once again. i urge all trans people to RESEARCH. RESEARCH THE RISKS. LIKE PLEASEEEEEE. Experiment. go out, look at others.

Take care of your body. Even if it makes you dysphoric. Your body deserves respect.

Medically transitioning won’t cure you. It’s not a medical drug. It’s a tool to help, like make up or clothes. and it has so many risks that you need to make sure you’re willing to take care of.

Ask for help. You deserve comfort.

#I’ve had to listen to multiple detransitioners talk for a project #and it’s so fucking important to listen to them #because they’re right #Being allowed to go on something at 16 when you don’t know who you are yet #and without treating any other underlying factor #is. so. so scary #because it doesn’t get cleaned up. #you just feel worse. #but being trans isn’t a curse #it sucks. and it’s a burden at times #but you can just fit in. #i’m sorry the world made you feel like you have to fight every morning #i’m sorry the world made you feel like you had to chose between being yourself and fitting in #You can pick and choose who you are #i’m sorry the doctors failed you detransitioners #i’m sorry the world made you feel like you only had one path #i’m sorry to those that stopped because you became afraid. or realized how hard it gets #but most importantly #remember to NEVER berate the other side and to listen #do research #always. #🏳️‍⚧️ #i’m very emotional rn #🐊 #speck rambles

[chosows]

i think it would be nice if like there was a one shot about us having a kid with him i think that would be perfect for a one shot

i’m assuming this is about sukuna—if i’m wrong i’m sorry anon, i’ll take my mind out from the depths of the filthy sukuna gutter

FATHERLY DUTIES

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Pregnancy was an experience Sukuna had never expected to be bestowed upon him; you as his wife are bringing his child into the world. It’s a journey filled with joys and challenges, something he hopes to face successfully hand in hand with the woman he trusts most. Who would’ve known that such a pure life could stem from someone so corrupt?

Word count: 2.2k

Contains: Established relationship, pregnancy, brief smut, Sukuna being smitten, brief description of sex, slice of life, alternative universe: Sukuna is human

Note: making this bow divider took longer than me actually writing this, i hope it resembles bows (੭ ˊ^ˋ)੭ — don’t be afraid to request, i’ll get around to them when i have time

DURING THE PREGNANCY

Pregnancy is a wonderful gift; the ability to bring a child into the world with the person you adore should be cherished. However, the experience is far from being as glamorous as you imagined it to be. What seemed to be a breeze for everyone else hit you ten times harder—you’re experiencing it all. Bloating, morning sickness, general nausea, a weak bladder, and the list goes on. You convince yourself it’s all worth it to bring your beacon of joy into the world, but it feels as though you’re barely clinging on. 

As a man, he would never understand the extremes you experience daily with this growing life inside of you—though any set of eyes could see it was obvious you were struggling, even his. To lighten your workload, he subtly began taking over house tasks; encouraging you to get your rest was similar to asking a wolf to play fetch—you were not giving him an easy time. Claiming that just because you are pregnant you aren’t capable of taking care of chores anymore is insulting and then whining due to the aches you get after completing them; it’s a constant game of tug of war with no winning side. Since your hormones are all over the place, it is best to allow you to have your way; arguing with you won’t help anyone, and it could cause issues with the development of your child.

Observing your bump growing throughout the duration made him realise this was now his reality; half of him and half of you created this new soul. He never believed he could feel so fondly of someone he had never met, how a soon-to-be human who is currently smaller than the palm of his hand could alter him in ways he wouldn’t imagine he could change. If there is a given opportunity when you allow him to feel your belly, he would take it in an instant; the movement in which your child shifts and manoeuvres is almost as though it recognises his presence—showing favouritism to its father before they are even acquainted. The way in which he massages your hips and presses his lips to your stomach reminds you of all the reasons why you chose to settle down with him of all people. Sukuna may not be the most put-together man but he swears by his vows to raise this child right with you. The mistakes of his past will be discarded, life handed him this new slate filled with a multitude of opportunities—you were the angel sent to guide him on the right path, and you sure looked the part with how elegant you were in your flowy maternity clothes and lazy hairstyles.

Weight fluctuations are inevitable, but the bitter reality of realising some of your favourite clothing pieces don’t fit correctly anymore hits you hard. Your body has to adjust its shape and your child needs the nutrients; it would be vain to only care for your looks rather than the health of your baby. Instead of throwing out your old clothes, Sukuna emptied half of his side of the wardrobe for you to store them there—it’s not guaranteed you return to your original size any time soon, but it wouldn’t hurt to hold onto them for the memories they carried. He finds you to be as attractive as you once were; you look completely identical in his eyes, your clothing size is nothing but a number—the shape and curves of your body make you who you are, his special girl. Sukuna had stopped working out as much as he used to, claiming he was bulking and putting on weight of his own; while it was the truth, the reality was he didn’t want you to go through this change alone. It can be daunting and weigh on your conscience, but it should never affect you—a woman whose beauty can only be experienced. No matter the skill of a painter, they would find it impossible to encapsulate so much splendour on a canvas.

“A nursery wouldn’t be hard to build; we don’t need to pay anyone. I could do that myself.”— He said. While you are resting on the sofa, minding your business flicking through a magazine, the sounds of crashing and cursing sound out from upstairs. It’s hard to restrain a chuckle before you shout up to check in on him, and his tone instantly shifts from gruff to mellow, doing his best to convince you all is well while half the crib he spent hours on just collapsed. You give it to him that he is a handyman—he is just far too impatient to read instruction manuals. Ignorance is not always bliss, especially if the crib his child is supposed to sleep in keeps plummeting to the ground. The walk of shame through the living room to grab his thin framed reading glass was silent; he didn’t dare to look you in the eyes since he could already picture the smug expression on your face. Proving him wrong was like a punch to the gut; it flattened his almighty ego to the floor, burying it amongst the dirt. There is a strange guilt summoned when you acknowledge his inaudible struggles, so the two of you join forces. You knelt on the rug of the nursery, reading the instructions out loud while he did the handy work. It’s a job well done when the room you envisioned comes to life, all the blissful colours to stimulate the imagination and the variety of stuffed animals patiently waiting to greet their new friend—it’s everything you could’ve hoped for, you pray your child will love it there as much as you do.

Many pregnant women state their sex life runs dry, but yours has taken the turn for the opposite. Whether it be your pheromones growing stronger due to the hormones or him appreciating the strength it takes to become a mother, he could not take his hands off of you. Sex was something he initially hesitated on during your first trimester; he feared that too much activity might render you eligible for a miscarriage since it was so early on. When you began becoming more stable and combating the pregnancy symptoms with ease, that’s when the two of you slipped back to your usual bedroom routine. You were limited to few positions, but seeing you in missionary was something he could never catch himself complaining about. Not only was your belly growing, your breasts were too—you had simply gotten him awestruck by doing nothing but existing. What a woman’s body is capable of is truly spectacular; who wouldn’t be captivated by the beauty of it? His thrusts were much gentler than usual; it felt as though you were having intercourse with a different person due to how careful he was being. It become more sensual, the bond between the two of you stronger than it had ever been. His eyes were filled with warmth as he gazed down at you, smiling softly while the back of his hand brushed against your cheek. No one had ever belonged to him before, nor had he belonged to anyone; it was a beautiful transition into this freshly blossoming future. He finally has discovered his sense of belonging is with you by his side. His idea to snap a picture of your belly during the weeks of growth led to half of a photo album filled with images of you, there for you to reminisce on after you enter labour.

AFTER THE PREGNANCY

Delivering a child was the most chaotic yet eye-opening experience for both of you—more so him who watched it from a fully different perspective, seeing everything up close. He never felt ill, nor was he disgusted; it was amazing how you carried around this bundle of life like it was nothing. While you were dosed on the epidural, he came out of the delivery room with gashes on his hands from the force your nails dug into him. There was no gender reveal since it was decided you wanted it to be a surprise, placing your separate bets on what the baby could be. Even though he wanted a boy, as soon as he saw his baby girl resting in your arms, he fell in love with her. Though she had a sparse head of hair, it was a similar colour to his. In his arms, she barely existed—nothing but a mere dot with her little white hat on. It was rewarding to see how far he come since you first met him; you couldn’t be more proud of him. You didn’t intend to change him, but he altered himself in ways he thought were necessary. He kept his witty humour and arrogance, the two things that truly make him who he is. It wouldn’t be your Sukuna if he wasn’t a handsome pain in the ass, finding ways to tease you yet also ways to comfort you and make you laugh in desperate times.

When you had taken the childcare classes for new parents before going into labour, he outdid himself in all preparations; he was like the student who thoroughly studied for the exam months before it even arrived. The reason he had been trying so hard is due to his fear of hurting the baby—he finds himself being rough without realising, often making the same mistakes while handling you. During nights, she would screech down the baby monitor right beside his ear, causing you both to stir. The duty of checking in on her was split on a makeshift roster, but you had been growing exhausted progressively with each passing day. Since there are days when he is up later than you, he sees to her to prevent the sudden outbursts happening during the early hours of the morning. She would weep and fuss until he took her into his arms. When she’d go silent, he would lean to lay her back down until she started up her cries again. The only thing that would calm her down was being held by her father.

Time flies by with the new addition to the household; your daughter is now able to grasp onto her favourite teddy bears at five months old. Her wardrobe is bigger than yours, and she managed to successfully steal the heart of your husband—the only competitor. All three of you would spend half of the day playing, chatting with her in the room since it would aid her mental skills. She seemed pleased seeing both of her parents, watching the two of you chatter and share innocent displays of affection. Her cooing noises would make you both grin; Sukuna couldn’t believe one of his creations could be so pure and full of love. Others told him he was nothing but distant and incapable of kindling sincere connections, but he managed to prove those who held a lack of faith in him wrong. He will admit that there were times he found the idea of love far too corny for a man like him, but accepting it into his life made it so much brighter, giving it a completely new meaning.

There came many troubles and stressful situations, but the excitement of raising a child made them all irrelevant to Sukuna. The two of you finally made time for an at-home date, sharing two light drinks and a meal. Men who fall out of love with their wives after they become mothers are nothing but weak in his eyes—if they cannot deal with one minor change, they would never amount to anything in life that involves them stepping free from their cowardly safety net. If anything, this journey made him realise how he truly wishes you would be the person who will die by his side; part of him hopes the two of you find a way to bypass death and live on together for eternity—it wouldn’t hurt to be optimistic. In the bedroom, he stripped himself free of his clothes, his gigantic figure looming over you while he stared down at you. He climbed on top of you, pinning your hands to your sides while he stole a kiss—yearning for your affection greater than ever before. That sparkle in your eyes never left; he remembers seeing it ignite for the first time when he first kissed you all those years ago.

“You are quite the woman, you know?” Sukuna hums, rubbing his nose against yours while his hair brushes across your forehead.

“I know, don’t you just love me so much?” You tease, poking your tongue out as you grin.

“I do, more than anything. You’ll always be my number one girl; our little angel comes in close second.” 

“I used to be your angel” Your voice winds in a whiny tone, widening your eyes and curving your lips down to appear upset.

“You still are,” He kisses your cheek while his hand trails down to the waistband of your panties, twanging it against your skin as he speaks, “I miss your bump.”

“Do you want another baby?” You beam at him, your eyes crinkling and your hand squeezing his.

“If you want one, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

#jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk #oneshot #ryomen sukuna #alternate universe #smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna

[gasstationlady]

tom holland’s school of manifestation | a charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x supermodel!reader

charles has a big crush on world renowned supermodel, y/n l/n. who would’ve thought she’d return the feelings.

notes: very much travis kelce x taylor swift inspired. faceclaim is yasmin wijnaldum! btw i try to improve with each post (like how i write/pace the story) so if you have any suggestions, pls (veryvery kindly) tell me!! :))

disclaimer: SORRY FOR TYPOS. GOOGLE TRANSLATE (and from american high school lol) FRENCH. KYM ILLMAN MENTIONED LOL. none of the information in this social media au is factual. i do use old photos of charlotte and charles, and usually i don't like to include pictures of their ex or current gfs in these fics (only bc i want to keep it as imaginative as possible and i feel like adding them kinda gives you a reality check while reading LOL) so lmk your opinions on that!

masterlist

voguemagazine

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 854,487 others

voguemagazine Since beginning modeling at the age of 14, Y/N L/N has cemented herself as the most influential supermodel of all time. As of 2023, she is now the world’s highest paid model surpassing Kendall Jenner who previously led the list. Throughout her career, she has made 39 appearances on international Vogue covers.

Tap the link in our bio to read the full profile. Photographed by @/leannafitz, Written by Phil Stevenson, Styled by @/sheri_simmons, Vogue, February 2023.

View all 942 comments

user MOTHER IS MOTHERING

user omg as someone who has been a fan since she began in 2011, i’m so proud of her 😭

user she's the definition of perfection

user LOL ariana (charles), what are you doing here

↳ user his little crush on her is soo cute 😩

↳ user he’s just like us fr lmaoo

user her walk is legendary like it reminds me so much of naomi

user i was gonna say she’s the model of our generation but that’s wrong. she’s actually the top model of all time 😩😩😩

user i’m glad to see a non-nepo baby be on top of the list

↳ user no literally like no shade to bella, kendall, and them but y/n had to fight tooth and nail to be here

↳ user frrr bc most of the nepo baby models are great, don’t get me wrong. however, they were allowed to make mistakes during their career in order to improve. y/n was not privileged enough to have that. like ppl don’t understand the insane expectations that were placed on her ever since she entered the industry, but she exceeded those expectations every. single. time. and that’s why she deserves this title

user she’s so beautiful

user i would die for y/n

user nothing could describe the amount of affection i have for this woman omfg

charleslc_updates

42,077 likes

charleslc_updates Charles and Arthur talking about Y/N L/N (again lol) in a recent interview 👀

View all 396 comments

user lmaoooooo relatable

user omg i'm new to f1 but i've always been a y/n stan i'm freaakkkinng out but wdym again??

↳ user lmaooo charles is always trying to bring up y/n

user the leclerc brothers 🥰🥰

user it was so cute to see the both of them in one video

user this man fr blushed AHAH cute

user i get it charles i too have the biggest crush on y/n

↳ user lol literally like get in line dude

↳ user back of the line bucko

user i've never seen a man so down bad for someone he's never met

user y/n what are you doing girl if you don't want him ILL DO IT

user @/yourusername

↳ user LMAO YESSS @/yourusername

ynupdates

239,095 likes

ynupdates Y/N opening the 2023 Chanel by Karl Lagerfeld show during Paris Fashion Week.

View all 3,977 comments

user omg she absolutely killed it

user god does she need a dog? i can bark

user i love seeing her thrive

user quick charles this is your chance!!! she’s in paris 😭😭😭 @/charles_leclerc

↳ user lmaooooo not you tagging him but literally though

↳ user no srsly please mr. "i hope our paths cross soon" you don't understand i need this to happen

user yall saw that walk??? ugh y/n the woman that you are

user i don’t get the hype. all she does is walk.

user NAHHHH SHE ATEEE THAT

user i’m so happyyyy 🥺 y/n is so booked and busy she’s really out here doing multiple back to back shows for paris fashion week

↳ user same! it’s crazy that she gets to open and close multiple shows, especially ones like chanel!

user i love that so many people are going to these shows just to see y/n

user i could make this exact dress with my curtains

user if i ever meet her in real life i would die happily

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, bellahadid and 5,490,124 others

yourusername rien de mieux que d'etre a la maison [no place like home]

View all 12,658 comments

gigihadid sexy lady

↳ yourusername already missing you

user i keep forgetting she's part french

user you absolutely KILLED those shows

voguemagazine iconic ⭐️

alexademie 🔥🔥

user beautiful girl!!

user omggg charles liking this LOL

↳ user it's actually frustrating me that this man has no game like i'm rooting for you cmon

↳ user lmaooo literally though i'm just hoping he's pulling some strings behind the scenes

anokyai 😍😍😍

user la plus belle fille [the most beautiful girl] *liked by charles_leclerc

↳ user if this is him shooting his shot 😭😭

↳ user lol charles is down so bad he's even going through the comments

user am i just crazy but why are there two drinks in the second post? like is this supposed to be a very soft launch

↳ user it's probably gigi 😭😭 she did comment saying that they were hanging out with each other

↳ user but why not just take a pic of her tho

deuxmoi

31,844 likes

deuxmoi Y/N L/N & Charles Leclerc spotted hanging out with each other in Paris

View all 992 comments

user NO WAY OMG

user i'm actually in disbelief how tf did charles get here

user i knew you could do it charles!!

user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

user so are they dating???

user CHARLES FR WINNING RN AHAH

↳ user NO LITERALLYYY HES BEEN DREAMING ABOUT THIS FOR AGES

↳ user he manifested this 😭

user they look sooo good together

user why does he look so srs

↳ user give my man a break 😩

↳ user well it looks like he’s not your man anymore 😭😭

user omgg this is like a fairytale

user wait i'm kinda obsessed with this

user i’m so invested

kymillman

201,885 likes

kymillman Y/N AND CHARLES

Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc is joined at the track today by top supermodel, Y/N L/N. This is the first time Y/N is with him and she clearly shines in front of the camera.

Her debut at the grid has quickly become a popular topic as fans and drivers alike are intrigued by the presence of one of the most famous women in the world.

For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com #f1 #formula1 #signedprints #japanesegp #CharlesLeclerc #Y/NL/N

View all 971 comments

user SHDJEJ IM ACTUALLY GOING FERAL

user mom and dad 😩

user so it’s official???

↳ user i mean this is the hardest launch they could have done other than posting 😭

user i’m a charles fan and even i’m surprised he got her to date him

user i’m rooting for them so much 🥺🥺

user she’s serving though

user i’m watching the race rn and they literally keep talking about y/n being there AHH

↳ user i always forget she’s kind of a big deal

user kym gets on my nerves but this picture is actual gold

user it's so obvious that this is a publicity stunt

↳ user nah but for who? bc i know damn well that neither charles nor y/n need it

↳ user obviously not for them but maybe it's to gather more attention for f1

↳ user girl i need u to listen to urself rn 😭 bc that makes no sense

user idk who charles is and idk what the hell f1 is but best believe i’m tuning in next race just to see y/n

↳ user literally me girl i can’t believe i’m watching cars drive in a circle rn

yn_updates

91,922 likes

yn_updates Some moments of Y/N being mentioned by drivers during the Formula 1 race

View all 1,061 comments

user i swear it was like every minute i'd hear y/n's name

user the way that all the drivers are aware of charles's long time obsession with y/n LOL

↳ user i just know charles is the type to never shut up about her ahaha

user she's literally THE y/n l/n. i mean if viewers are sky rocketing just by her being there, imagine her impact if she had actively promoted it

↳ user she's so iconic

↳ user no bc i love y/n so much that i just forced myself to watch rich grown men vroom vroom in circles for almost 2 hrs just to catch a glimpse of her

user i'm in love with her life

user LMAOOO THE DRIVERS TEASING CHARLES

user lando's so funny 😭😭

user y/n and f1 stans are being FED today wow

user is it just me or am i kinda annoyed about how often they're bringing her up like my girl can't even support her bf in peace

↳ user yea i'm eating it up but also feeling bad for y/n at the same time. the attention is definitely a double edge sword.

user apparently she was with joris most of the time 🥺

user this is literally straight from a fairy tale i can't

user didn't they just meet like a week ago

↳ user as far as we know they were first spotted together about a month ago by that deuxmoi post. but assuming from y/n and charles's past relationships, i don't think they'd be this comfortable going public without being together for a while

↳ user yea this has definitely been going on longer than we think/have been seeing

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, gigihadid, landonorris and 7,712,083 others

charles_leclerc J'ai toujours su que c'était toi. Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour ❤️ [I've always known it was you. Happy birthday, my love]

View all 34,511 comments

yourusername merci, mon cœur ❤️ [thank you, my heart]

yourusername je suis raide dingue de toi [i'm madly in love with you]

↳ charles_leclerc l'amour de ma vie [the love of my life]

user are we interrupting something...

user i can’t believe it’s already been 6 months since they first went public

user throwing myself down the stairs as we speak

user they don't know it yet but we're actually a throuple

user happy birthday y/n!!!

user in love with their love 🥺

user lmfaoooo i just know charles is on cloud 9 this man literally sees y/n and is blind to everything else

↳ user he's sooo cute, he's like a love sick puppy

user i still think this is a pr relationship

user god i'd die for someone to look at me the way charles looks at y/n in that second pic

user this is my roman empire

user i'm so obsessed with them it's insane

user our generation's brad and angelina

↳ user don't say that wtf my parents are never separating

user pls don't ever breakup 😭😭

#f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc social media au #supermodel!reader #f1 smau #f1 fic #charles leclerc fic

[coco-loco-nut]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

Pairing: None

Summary: Being a woman in F1 has it's challenges, especially when you are constantly seen as a threat

A/n: McLaren history revision, actually, a lot of it might not make complete logical sense, just ignore that. i’m not great at angst

requests open masterlist ttpd masterlist

_________

You've scared everyone in the F1 world since you started driving in 2014 for McLaren, more dominant than Max Verstappen, the only driver other than Lewis Hamilton to challenge you. Your aggressive driving style and ability to get the most out of your car has lead you to three championships. Men don’t like that.

You are in a bit of a slump this year after moving to Mercedes, not having won one of the first three races, but you are poised for attack, ready to take your place at the top.

“Daddy, who’s that?” you hear a little girl ask as you walk to the paddock.

“Y/n L/n, we don’t like her,” his fragile masculinity practically yells the comment into your ears. With a smirk you look at the pair, walking over and bending to the little girls level.

“What’s your name?” you ask, your voice bordering on being sickly sweet.

“Sarah,” she squeaks, eyes wide with fascination. You remove your team hat and pull out a sharpie from your pocket, signing your hat.

“Don’t let any man tell you you can’t be better than the boys. You can do anything, you’re a girl,” you smile, putting the hat on her head. You wave over your assistant. “Get her sizes and buy her some team gear, charge it to me,” you tell the assistant, who eagerly nods. Of course, the F1 social team caught the incident and posted it.

“Y/n! How does it feel to be in a slump, as some are calling it? Some fans are even calling you washed. Quite sad isn’t it,” one reporter asks.

“You guys keep saying I am in a slump, or I’m being replaced by younger drivers. My bare hands paved their paths, you don’t get to tell me about sad. If you wanted my career to be dead so bad, you should’ve just said so,” you roll your eyes. Nothing makes you feel more alive than driving, but annoying the media is a close second.

“What about your move to Mercedes next year? Why switch?” another reporter asks. Couldn’t you just get to your motorhome without being hounded by reporters for once?

“It was a mutual decision, it was time for us to part,” you walk away, reflecting on the last few months.

You hadn’t planned your exit from McLaren to Mercedes, the scandal regarding your exit being contained by NDAs. You had punched one of the engineers who made a sexist joke at your expense. You promptly decided you didn’t want to be there anymore, especially when they didn’t fire the engineer.

“I feel bad that this is how it has to happen,” Zak said at the end of last season.

“You don’t get to tell me you feel bad, if you actually did he would’ve been fired and I wouldn’t have to leave,” You told him, visibly upset.

“It was one joke and he was reprimanded. You don’t have to leave,” Zak says, you sharply inhale.

“It wasn’t one joke. It had been ongoing for years, it’s a wonder it took me this long to break. What did you want me to do? Laugh until I cry?” you asked Zak, who seemed shocked.

“Then I truly am sorry, I’ll launch an investigation to see why it wasn’t reported to me before. You will have always have a friend here,” Zak tells you, a small comfort.

“Thank you,” you give him a small smile. You spend the whole offseason steeling yourself and working to be the best driver you can be. You stayed longer at the gym and sent more time on the sim.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Daniel asked one day over a glass of wine, he’s known you since you both were karting, and he’s watched you spiral the past few years. Daniel is your best, and one your few friends.

“It’s so hard being a woman in F1. I am a completely different person than I was before I joined,” Daniel doesn’t comment, he knows you felt like a caged animal so you acted like one.

“Why did you leave McLaren?” Daniel asks, knowing you wouldn’t leave unless there was a good reason.

“I signed an NDA, so you can’t share any of this. After I started at McLaren, an engineer was hired who would say sexist remarks all the time. Over time I stopped being nice and just got mean back, and I finally snapped. I gave him a nice right hook to his face,” you sip the wine, giving the shortened version. “Zak didn’t know, no one had reported the engineers behavior, so we signed NDAs and I left.”

“I’m sorry, That plus the media circus of being a woman in F1 can’t be easy,” Daniel sympathizes.

“That’s why I forced myself to be like this. If I can make myself seem untouchable, it doesn’t hurt as much. Being the villain is easier,” you tell him.

“So how will you approach Mercedes?” Daniel keeps you talking, knowing you need a good trauma dump.

“Lay low for the first couple weeks, let the drivers think they took out my claws, hung me to dry. It won’t be enough to ruin my season, but enough to catch them off guard. During the fourth or fifth race, I’ll leap from my gallows and crash their party, exposing the sexism within Formula One,” you smirk.

“The old ‘who’s afraid of little old me’ tactic,” he smiles, enjoying your plan.

“They should be afraid,” you say, explaining your interview with Suzie that is going to break the internet, after all, the NDA only kept you from talking about the punch.

Just like you predicted, the media and fans were divided. Some called for a public apology from McLaren and the FIA for the treatment of female drivers, most called you over dramatic, and said you only wanted to attention to distract from your poor performance and waning stardom. They said not everything is about you and the people who hurt you didn’t do it to hurt you.

You wanted nothing more than to argue back and show the media and fans just how disturbed they had made you, but Toto told you to let your driving do the talking. That race you said one thing to the media, “you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.”

“Chills, your interview was phenomenal. Thanks for citing me as one of your biggest supporters by the way. Scooch over, let’s see what insecure men are tweeting,” Daniel hands you a glass of wine and sits beside you on your couch, air playing his phone screen.

“I like that one, I’m always drunk on my own tears,” you laugh. Daniel logged into his spam account, letting himself reply to the haters.

“I like this one. Y/n L/n is the kind of person to sue you for stepping on her lawn,” Daniel laughs.

“The reply is better: she’s fearsome, wretched, and most importantly, wrong,” you both think of a funny reply.

You show up to the track and win, and win, and win, until you are holding the trophy for your fourth world championship.

In your post-championship interview with the F1 media team, you make what may be your biggest announcement yet.

“In the wake of people calling me crazy after sharing my experiences as a woman in motorsport, I’d like to make a very special announcement. I am who I am because you trained me to be like this, so to make sure no other girl has to go through what I did, I will be sponsoring two F1 Academy drivers with added mentorship and sponsorship opportunities. I’ve seen the work that Susie Wolff has done, and I cannot wait to help grow the presence of women in motorsport,” you say, sitting beside Susie.

“We will make sure she doesn’t terrorize the girls too much,” she jokes at your request.

“Who’s afraid of little old me?”

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo #the tourtured poets department #who’s afraid of little old me #f1 x female driver

[sepherinaspoppies]

Only If For A Night (i/?)

pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader

summary: In Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), she gets forcefully transported to Westeros and meets her favorite book character, Aemond 'One Eye'. She asks and begs for his help to send her back home after realizing this was a world she did not want to live in. Unknowingly to her, her favorite fictional man had already grown too attached to fully let her go.

warnings for this part: profanity, tea drugging, blood magic, sexism, I think that's it... more dark stuff later. READER IS LATINA !

wc: 4,027

series masterlist

my masterlist

pt2

notes: originally I was gonna have this fic be a one shot but it is sooo long that I decided to split it into three. this is an introduction part, aemond will be on the next (I'm half way done with that part).

She knows she is screwed when Doña Maribel broke the news to her that the last of the cempasuchiles were completely sold out in her shop. Making it five flower shops in the span of an hour that she walked to have fully run out of the bright orange flowers she needed for her ancestral altar that she and her abuela worked tirelessly on for the past few days. (marigolds, grandmother)

She wonders what to do next or perhaps where to go as she plays with the gravel beneath her shoes. Sure, she could walk another mile or so to another flower shop and try her luck there just as Doña Maribel suggested but she finds herself too tired to venture deeper in her small pueblo by herself. (town)

Even the walk back to her abuela’s was not something she looked forward to as of now. This was the time where she wished she had the ability to drive but alas she could not for even the streets of Mexico were more hectic and nerve wracking than back at the states. (grandmother’s)

She sighs in defeat. The cempasuchiles were the last thing on her abuela’s list of things she required for tonight’s first day of Dia de Los Muertos. The bright orange flowers illuminated the path of those who died, back into the land of the living and enjoy the offerings their family’s set up for them. (Day of the Dead)

Maybe for just tonight she could spare them.  

She sets her three mercado bags beside her as she sits down on a bench right next to a bus stop that could lead her directly to her abuela’s home. The smell of citrus of the lemon tree above her eases her disappointment and feels that this is the perfect spot to reread one of her favorite books. (shopping)

George R. R. Martin’s, Fire and Blood Vol. 1. She wondered what it was like to reside in a world of dragons (before they were all extinct), dire wolves from the North, red priestesses from Volantis, and mysterious yet powerful witches. To live inside the walls of the Red Keep and tour around the secret passageways and to fight for the rightful Queen of Westeros, Rhaenyra and the other members of the Blacks during the Dance of Dragons.  

Sadly, even if it was possible to venture deep into alternate fantasy universes. It all was pure fiction. Not real. Impossible. 

‘And so one-eyed Aemond the Kinslayer took up the iron-and-ruby crown of Aegon the Conqueror, “It looks better on me than it ever did on him,” the prince proclaimed.’

“Excuse me, do you happen to know when the bus is due to arrive?” She snaps her head up meeting the most beautiful and enchanting woman she’d ever seen. Eyes round and greener than the trees itself during spring. Hair long and black like ravens in the night sky. She was tall, taller than most of the women here with skin like porcelain that had not seen a day of sun, a rarity here in Mexico. 

It was her mischievous tight lipped smile that made her feel loss of words. Unknowingly, this mysterious woman was the first person who spoke to her in English, not Spanish.

“Umm… I- I’m sorry?” 

The green eyed woman smirked as if she knew the small effect she had on her. Gods she was beautiful. 

“The bus–” 

She shook her head out of her revere, coming to reality. “Oh, I’m not sure. Perhaps a few more minutes.” She informed, pulling her mercado bags closer to her side, allowing the green eyed woman to sit, not wanting to be rude. 

She murmurs a quick thank you as she sits exceedingly close to her, shoulder to shoulder, flesh to flesh with her. Jeez, talk about personal space! However, the woman doesn’t seem to care or acknowledge that she has enough space for her own person. A feeling of uncertainty rests below her gut, telling her to be vigilant around her presence.    

“How long have you waited?” She asks, breaking away the long silence between them. She almost shivers at the intensity hue of her eyes that bore right through her. 

“About ten to twelve minutes.” She replies, looking anywhere else but her. 

A satisfactory look sketched around the woman's youthful yet elderly face which she found odd. What could be so pleasing about the bus not arriving? The woman said nothing, only sitting rather straight, almost elegant in her simple long green dress. Though, in the back of her mind, she wondered if she felt hot underneath the heaviness of the velvet fabric. She sure as hell did.

“Wait, how did you know I spoke english?” She asked as the hairs on her arms stood up straight in some kind of chilling fear. 

The woman’s eyes lowered and centered on the object sitting up on her lap. “Your book gives it away.” She snickered softly, tilting her head reading the bold letters of her very worn book she got at the thrift store for just two dollars. “An interesting read.” The green eyed woman said whilst her face held no sincere fondness of it for someone who found it interesting. 

“You’ve read this before?” She asked curiously, little taken back, that she finally found someone else who read Fire and Blood Vol 1. Or anything by George R. R. Martin. 

“Yes, almost like I've lived through it” 

She opens her mouth to speak but the green eyed woman beats her to it. “I don’t mean to pry but where are you headed?” The smile falls off her face as she remembers the warning of stranger danger she learned as a kid. 

The woman must have noticed the dubious look upon her face as she threw her head back in a laugh. “I ask because it seems a storm is coming our way. And it looks like an angry one.” 

Sure enough, as she looked up the sky had turned into a deep gray with heavy clouds ready to pour any minute. Well this wasn’t forecasted in the noticias this morning, otherwise, she’d carry an umbrella. Or better yet, she wouldn’t have walked all this way if a storm was brewing. (news) 

“My cottage is not very far from here,” the green eyed woman revealed, standing up from the bench, overlooking the seriousness of the clouds. “It is just around the corner. Would you like to come?” 

She wanted to say no, that she was better off walking an hour back to her abuela’s house, even if it meant that she’d catch a cold in the pouring rain with blisters all over her feet. Besides, she did not know anything about this woman. Every bit of her mind screamed stranger danger! Don’t go!

But as she glanced between the heavy clouds and the green eyed woman with her hand extended out, all that doubt and worriment went away. 

“I don’t even know your name,” she pointed out. If all goes bad, at least she had a name to tell the authorities.

“My name is Alyssandra Riveras.” The green eyed woman smiled, bowing at the waist. 

Though still somewhat skeptical, she walks alongside Alyssandra to her cottage. She makes small mental notes in her head, counting the red stop signs, right and left turns and any other landmarks of important significance. 

She was almost positive she could point her way back home. It did not help that five minutes into their journey, it started harshly pouring out of nowhere like a bucket of water had been poured all over, blanketing her vision. 

Alyssandra’s cottage had sat on the outskirts of the pueblo, isolated from all civilization, hidden around tall and green pine trees. A faint voice in the back of her head screamed to run and never look back. She ignored it.

From a close distance, she was able to distinguish a small window with overgrown vines and branches wrapped around the perimeter of the cottage. Bones, bells, and crystal windchimes hung from the roof and windows, mostly likely put up for some kind of spiritual protection. 

She was no stranger to the craft. Although raised catholic, both her mama and abuela had hung an old broom above their doorway to keep away unwanted guests and negative energies as well as pinning the mal de ojo sigil around the walls for the look of evil and envy against their family. (evil eye)

“Cempasuchiles,” she murmured in awe when Alyssandra’s small garden came into view. It was the most of the orange flowers she had ever seen, all bright and lively and huddled together. 

“When the storm is over, you can grab as many as you’d like,” Alyssandra offered, peering over her shoulder, unlocking the door to her cottage. She nods following her inside whilst giving a grateful smile. 

The interior of the cottage was small, meant only for one person to take residence. The same size as what a studio apartment would be back in the states.

In no way was the inside minimal, in fact it was the opposite. Almost all of the walls were covered with shelves with small trinkets adorning inside such as little statues, crystals, herbs and other supplies. 

In the center of the room lay a huge stone like table, old and antique bearing the resemblance of something medieval. And something about it, sent shivers down her spine along with the same faint voice, telling her to run. 

She ignored it, again. 

“Give me your belongings, and change into this,” Alyssandra says, tossing a strappy white chemise. She exchanges her poor-soaked mercado bags that contained pan de muerto, churros, and tamales for her ancestral ofrenda. (bread of the dead, offering)

She turns around to protect her modesty, seeing as there was no other room to change nor did Alyssandra point her to the bathroom, so she lifts the drenched garment over her head and sheds away the last clothing she had on her body, leaving her completely bare in her birthday suit. 

She couldn’t help but to feel Alyssandra’s eyes watching her very intently, examining every inch of her body as if it met her standards or so. She knows she should use her hands to cover up and give Alyssandra a piece of her mind, or better yet introduce her to a knuckle and hand sandwich for the way she was looking too closely.  

Yet her body feels frozen, unable to move under the green eyed woman’s gaze. 

“Would you like some tea to keep you warm?” Alyssandra asked, moseying to the kitchen. 

She blinks, whatever paralyzing feeling she had dispelled away. “Um, yes thank you.” Alyssandra nodded, pulling what looked to be a kettle on the stove. Meanwhile, she slipped on the white chemise in a hurry to not feel as exposed anymore. 

She takes the time to analyze the rest of Alyssandra’s cottage as she hears the droplets of rain hit the rooftop harder and the sound metal being filled with water. Various of the same purple flower plants were placed near the entrance, she notes to herself that these couldn’t possibly be lavender but another species or something within the same family. 

A small cot laid in the corner close by the hearth, with multiple open ancient books and scrolls spread on top of the bedspread. She almost wants to look through the pages and read Alyssandra’s interests but she doubts she could as she observes the handwriting is unreadable from where she stood. 

She walks forward to where the hearth is, feeling slightly warmer as something immediately catches her eye. Above the mantle, hung on the wall was a medium sized portrait of a small boy, appearing no more than three years old. He stood straight, almost regally with his hands behind his back. His face held no gentleness or warmth like a child should have. 

Gods forgive her, but the child looked cruel like the gueritos who bullied her in elementary school when she was just trying to make new friends. (white boys) 

Though, for an evil looking child, he sure was beautiful. The most striking thing about him was his set of eyes. Wide with his left eye a dark violet and his right a dark green similarly to Alyssandra’s. His hair was straight and cut short right below his ears. She looked closer at the portrait, thinking if her eyes deceived her as she noticed the peculiar color of the boy’s hair. 

Silver. 

Curiosity takes the better of her as she asks, “Is that your son?” 

Alyssandra turns, holding two mugs of steaming tea. “Yes, that’s my beautiful little boy,” She places both glasses on the stoned table before she sits adjacent to her. It doesn’t go unnoticed by her the sad look on Alyssandra’s eyes. “He looks like you,” she points out though it’s somewhat of a lie in hopes to lift up Alyssandra’s spirits.

Alyssandra throws her head back in a chortle, “For all my hard work and labor, I had hoped he looked like me but nature loves to play its cruel jokes. He is a replica of his bastard father.” The thought of her son’s father left a sour and disgusting taste in Alyssandra’s mouth. 

Alyssandra focused her attention back to her, “What about you?” She asked, sitting rather too straight. 

“Do you mean if I have kids? Gods, no.” 

Alyssandra smirked, “I take it you don’t like the idea of children. I did not either but after years of solitude, I changed my mind. I had other children before my son, but all of them died before they were due. You, however, are still young. Your mind can still change.” 

She shifted in her seat anxiously, sipping the odd taste of the herbal tea Alyssandra provided. It wasn’t like she did not like children. She respected children and found them quite cute with their little tiny hands and feet and infectious laughs. But besides the point of appearance, children were a tremendous amount of responsibility that she found herself not ready for.

Not now. Not ever. 

She could barely handle taking care of herself. Much less care and provide for a child for eighteen years or so. 

“I don’t—” 

“Oh but you will,” Alyssandra fired back without so much as blinking an eye. 

She grimaced, knowing where this conversation was heading. And it was about to be a not so pretty one. She glanced at the window by the door, the rain was still heavy if not more.

“I thank you for giving me shelter. But I really must go. I was only just supposed to be out for some groceries and my abuela is probably wondering where I am.” Polite and respectful enough just as her mama taught her.

She grabbed her belongings that were hanging by the fire and stuffed them inside her mercado bag. Her hand was on the cusp of prying the door open when Alyssandra rushed to her side, wrapping her hand around her wrist. 

“Wait. Please don’t go.” Alyssandra pleaded, “It’s just that you remind me much about myself. I didn't mean to cause offense, I’m sorry.” 

Run. Say no and run now, While you still can…

There it was again that same paralyzing feeling closing in on her feet, preventing her to move. It was strange like a shield gluing both her legs down. 

She nodded, murmuring ‘fine’ under her breath as Alyssandra slowly led her back to the woven chair with such gentleness as a porcelain doll. “I still need to call my abuela, so she can know I’m alright.” 

Alyssandra twisted her face in a wince, “I’m afraid we’re too far out for any signals to catch a telephone call.” She held back the overweening snicker to herself, it was why Alyssandra chose her cottage to be settled this far out in this very modernized realm; so no one could find her. 

Alyssandra wasn’t lying. No matter how hard she hit her Iphone against her palm or moved it around, there had not been a single signal bar glowing. She wondered if her abuela had started to grow worried and perhaps began to search for her. She hoped she didn’t and that her cousins kept her preoccupied with the rest of the decorations to notice the duration of how long she’d been out. She also wondered if they were still going to the cementerio, to clean and decorate the graves of their loved ones but with the amount of thunder and rain, she’d doubt it was still on the agenda. (cemetery)

Alyssandra prepared some more tea as the fire gradually faltered down. This one had a different taste than the previous one with tiny purple petals floating around. Alyssandra watched very intently as she sipped every last drop while she scarcely touched her own mug.

The green eyed woman began asking her multiple personal questions, mostly about where she was originally from (due to the fact that her vocabulary deemed to be more vehement in English than Spanish), her family, and if she had any siblings. She had answered them all. Letting her know that she was just visiting from the states to celebrate Dia de Los Muertos with her family she had not seen since the death of her sweet abuelo. (grandfather)

Alyssandra’s eyes glimmered even more when she explained how strangely, her very stern and overprotective mama had suddenly let her travel by herself to a country she had never been to in years since she was small. Her mama preferred her to be where she could keep a close eye on her because ‘uno nunca sabe’ especially if you’re a woman. (one never knows)

It was odd, alright. Especially when her mama gave her money that she didn’t have, and enthusiastically wished her good fortune on her travels. Yup odd…

But not to Alyssandra.

Alyssandra sat down after cleaning both mugs ready to ask the hard hitting questions she’d been warming her up to. “Have you ever been with a man?” Her eyes widened before breaking rounds of deep laughter that made the sides of her ribs ache and cramp. 

However, there wasn’t an ounce of amusement displayed on Alyssandra’s face, but rather annoyance. What was so funny? It was a simple and uncomplicated question that meant no harm. At least not to her. He couldn’t harm her any more here. Alyssandra guessed perhaps it was the side effect of the tea making her humoristic. 

“No,” She replied, wiping the humoristic tears at the corner of her eyes. “The opportunity has never presented itself?” Alyssandra asked.

All the humor that previously lingered had gone swiftly away, realizing that Alyssandra was indeed asking something so personal to her. “No,” She shook her head, feeling her face hot and red. “People don’t look at me as someone they want to be with. They’d rather be with someone exciting, adventurous, and outing. And I’m neither of those things. I’m a homebody who’s idea of fun and adventure is living through fictional books.” She answered truthfully, too truthfully. 

Alyssandra watched her face transform into a deeper shade of red. “What is it?” She questioned, taking a hold of her hand, taking in the role of someone empathetic. 

“I want my first time to be special. Like the fairytales I grew up reading about with the grand Prince sweeping the young maiden off her feet and taking her to his castle…” The way her eyes reflected small flashes of light made Alyssandra almost feel guilty for her true intentions once the repercussions of the tea ran out. 

She remembers when she too wished for a dashing knight in shining armor to take her away, far away from the shit she had been through; the pain, the suffering, and the poverty. All of it. As Alyssandra grew well into her womanhood, she realized there was no knight coming to save her. Instead, there was a selfish Prince who spared her for his desires and her many talents beyond the acts of the flesh.  

But Alyssandra needed her to go. She needed that piece that was stolen from her. She didn’t want the risk of going back and facing him again and repeating through the hell and agony he put her through. So sending her for it seemed like the better alternative. 

“I know you probably think it sounds stupid–” She stammered, her face still beet red. 

“I don’t think it sounds stupid,” Alyssandra softly smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze. Judging by the serene look upon her face, it was a good lie that she seemed to believe. 

She smiled. Finally, someone who didn’t think of the idea of waiting for the right person was silly and unrealistic. 

Her smile deterred, sensing something trickle down her nose, dropping against the skin of her hand. 

Blood. Her blood. 

Run! 

“Alyssandra?” She whispered, puzzled at the sight of more blood spilling out of her nose. Every strand of hair in her arms stood, sensing a new type of alertness course right through her. She glanced at a very blurred Alyssandra with what looked to be a smirk written on her face. 

“W-What’s happening?” She stood from the chair, but that soon turned out to be a bad idea as her knees gave out, sending her straight to the stoned cold floor. She glanced up, watching as Alyssandra sauntered in front of her, and as much as she wanted to crawl away her body was glued to the floor. 

“Look,” Alyssandra said, crouching down at her level before she took her in her arms like a newborn baby, weighing little to nothing. “We don’t have much time. When you wake up, I need you to retrieve something of mine…” 

She felt her back collide on top of the stoned table, “What was in that tea?” She questioned but Alyssandra was quick to shush her. “It doesn’t matter now. You drank it all willingly.” There was no argument there. 

Alyssandra pulled out a jar with overflowing cempasuchil petals inside and circled the petals around her. Almost like a ritualistic circle she used to watch the brujas next door do. (witches)

“You need not to be afraid. You will not be harmed as long as you do what I say. Exactly as I say.” She gulped, nodding seeing as she had no other choice. “Bruja.” She spat but Alysssandra only chuckled, “I’ve been called much worse, little dove.” (witch)

Through the corner of her eye, she saw Alyssandra holding out a small knife. “I am in need of a sapphire. It was stolen from me many years ago. It is one of a kind, which is why when you see it you’ll know it is mine.” 

She momentarily shut her eyes as the dark haired woman rapidly cut the middle of her palm spewing her blood on top of the petals. “Once you’re successful, you’ll come back here with the sapphire and gather some of my materials. The marigold petals with your blood coating them; The blood of whom you took the sapphire from and lastly you’ll lay on top of my precious table here to be transported back.” 

There was an evil smile on her lips that she desperately wanted to punch it off. “And if I don’t get the sapphire?” She questioned. 

Alyssandra combed away her unruly braided hair, “Then I won’t bring you back and you’ll be stuck there forever.” 

Fuck. 

“Stuck? Stuck where? Where am I going?” 

Alyssandra clicked her tongue, “A place where fairy tales do not exist, my little dove.” If she wanted a Prince to sweep her off her feet. Alys would gladly give her one. 

She attempted to wiggle herself out of this pendeja’s spell but whatever Alyssandra mixed in the tea it was compelling her body to still and her eyes to slowly falter shut in a peaceful sleep. (dumbass) 

“However I should warn you, this spell is only valid until tomorrow. Until Dia de Los Muertos is over and even if you do achieve in retrieving the sapphire but it is after November second, you'll be permanently trapped with him.” 

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#prince aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen

[smilesrobotlover]

Talon has never been afraid of things that people were typically afraid of. He never understood the fear surrounding spiders—he only found them to be pests that needed to be put outside where they belonged, and he even found some of them cute. Talon never found water frightening, the dark was no issue to him, and he found tighter spaces more cozy than anything. He was scared of monsters, but that felt more like a valid fear since they could actually kill him. But everything else he never understood the fear others had. That is, until he was swept into a different world surrounded by men looking for their respective heroes of Hyrule. Talon discovered that he was terrified of heights. He’s never had to climb anything high up—back then he would have his wife reach high places for him. Now either Malon or Ingo took care of those problems for him since they were both taller than him. But being on this adventure, he had to face heights more times than he’d like, and every time he faced them, his legs would turn into mush and he’d struggle to stand on his own. He always tried to hide it since he already felt like a burden to the other men, but he couldn’t. It was all getting worse when the men found themselves in the mountains, inching closer to cliff-sides that made Talon dizzy. Rusl picked up on Talon’s nervousness and he rested his hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t like heights?”

Talon gave him a look and let out a shaky breath. “Y-you could say that.”

Rusl smiled. “It’ll be ok, we’ll take care of you. And besides, we have Kass here in case we fall!”

The blacksmith gestured to their feathered friend who was chatting with Benji, but it didn’t make Talon feel any better. He didn’t want to put any responsibility on Kass, and he definitely didn’t want to fall in the first place. As the men walked, Talon couldn’t help but notice the cliffside getting closer to them, and he felt himself pressing up against the rocky wall more and more the closer it got. The path turned rocky and rough, and the edge was inches away from his feet. Talon turned away from the cliff, hugging the wall as he shuffled forward. This slowed him down, and the others were far ahead of him, not seeming to care that one wrong step could send them to their death. But Talon didn’t care; he didn’t bother to call for them. He was just focused on his breathing and shuffling along the wall.

“Talon.”

The farmer flinched and looked to his side where Leon was standing, watching him worriedly. “S-sorry,” Talon apologized, and Leon waved it away.

“It’s alright, we just don’t want to accidentally leave you behind. Here,” Leon offered his arm for Talon to grab onto, “you can hang onto me, but the sooner we’re off this path the better.”

Talon let out a breath and complied, not caring that it was childish to do so. Leon walked slowly, yet with confidence as Talon stumbled along. It wasn’t like the first knight to slow down for him, but Talon was grateful for it. He peeked over Leon’s shoulder to spot the others already on the other side, with Rusl watching them anxiously.

“We’re almost there,” Leon assured, and Talon nodded.

“I’m so sorry about this—“ Talon started, but Leon stopped him.

“We all have fears, it’s normal. But that’s why we have each other. We don’t have to face them alone.”

Talon smiled at Leon and they pressed onward. He didn’t know how long they were going for, but it felt like forever. But Leon still held onto him as they walked, so he continued. Sudden shouting from the others made him and Leon pause.

“What’s going on?” He heard Leon yell, but he wasn’t able to hear a response before the sound of crumbling rocks was heard. Leon gasped and he spun around, covering Talon as small rocks and dirt fell on their head. Talon felt his stomach lurch as the mountain shook, and a loud crash was heard in front of them. Leon let go of him and he cursed under his breath. Talon opened his eyes only to see the path in front of them destroyed, and the others hidden by boulders.

“Oh goddesses,” he mumbled, and Leon cupped both hands around his mouth.

“RUSL! AMMON!” He shouted, and it was silent until the two heard a faint shout back. Talon let out a sigh of relief, but was returned to his own predicament. “Well, they’re alive,” Leon muttered, turning to him.

“W-what are we gonna do? The way forward is-is broken!” Talon cried, gesturing to the broken path. Leon hummed and walked towards the edge, then he gave Talon an apologetic look.

“It’s not a far jump…”

Talon’s eyes widened.

“No.”

Leon walked towards him, his hands up defensively. “Talon, that's the only way we can reunite with the others.”

Talon shook his head, but the mountain began shaking again, and another loud crash came behind them. To his horror, the other side was destroyed, and there was shouting from his friends again, this time with the clang of metal. They were being attacked.

Leon grabbed his arm and started to pull him towards the edge. Talon pulled back, stopping him in his tracks.

“Talon, we need to go. Now!”

“B-but—but we—“

“I know you’re scared, but we must get to the others or else we’ll be crushed by rocks!” Leon turned to the gap and ran towards it, jumping towards the other side. It didn’t seem to take much effort for him, but it didn’t make Talon feel much better. “Talon please!” Leon tried again, his hand extended. “It’s going to be ok, we’re close to the end!”

Talon swallowed hard, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. He had to be brave—just this once.

The farmer started to slowly move towards the edge, his legs shaking uncontrollably as he shuffled. Parts of the cliffside began to give way, and it nearly made Talon fall to his knees, but with Leon pleading for him to hurry, he continued to move forward. He reached the cliff edge and he felt himself grow nauseous as he glanced over the edge. That was a mistake.

“Come on, Talon!” Leon pressed, his hand extended. Talon paused for a moment before letting out a breath.

“J-just give me a moment—“

“You don’t have a moment! Don’t think about the cliff, just jump!”

Talon swallowed again, his whole body shaking now. He shuffled closer and closer to the edge, feeling weaker each step he took. Leon was clearly growing impatient, but he gave Talon a confident look. He could do this. He had to.

“Run and jump, Talon,” Leon said, waving his arm towards him, and the farmer nodded. He just had to trust himself. Talon took a small step back and took a deep breath, then ran to the cliffside. But as his foot hit the edge, the ground beneath him crumbled, and he yelped as he began to slide over the edge. Talon’s hands were waving wildly, and he miraculously was able to grab onto something, stopping his fall.

“TALON!” The farmer looked up to see Leon reaching out for him, a more desperate look in his eyes. “Grab on!”

Talon was growing hysterical as the only thing stopping him from plunging to his death was his grip on the rocks embedded into the rocky wall. He squeezed his eyes shut, not trusting his strength to grab onto Leon.

“Talon please!”

The farmer looked up at Leon.

“It’s going to be ok,” the first knight assured, inching closer to him. “I won’t let go, just trust yourself, and trust me.”

Talon swallowed again, and he nodded. Using all the strength he had, he began to reach for Leon. Their hands were inches away from each other, and with one last effort, Talon swung himself, and their hands clasped together. Talon smiled relieved, as did Leon.

“It’s going to be ok,” he said again, starting to pull. But Talon heard something, an arrow shooting through the air, and Leon let out a pained yell as it was buried into his back. A sudden electric shock went through both of them, and Talon yelped as he lost all strength in his grip, and he let go of Leon’s limp hand. He could do nothing but watch as Leon and the path grew smaller and smaller as he plunged to the world below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talon awoke with a jolt. He instinctively started to feel himself, checking for injuries, but he found none. He let out a loud sigh of relief, rubbing his hand against his head as everything came back to him. Was it all a nightmare? He didn’t know what else it could’ve been—he fell. Not even a tough Hylian would’ve been able to survive a fall like that. Yet… it felt so real…

Talon rested his hand on his heart and attempted to slow down his breathing. Whatever it was, he was still worked up over it; beads of sweat were beginning to drip down his forehead, and his throat hurt as though he was about to cry. He glanced over to his left and found himself in a clearing surrounded by trees, but no one else was there. He frowned and turned his head to the other side and found a shallow spring with fairies gently floating around it. Yet no sign of anyone. He sat up and flinched at a sharp pain going through his ribs. He groaned and rubbed at the area, trying to breathe in a way to not make the pain worse. Why was he hurt? What happened? Where was everyone? Talon’s questioning thoughts were interrupted when he heard movement behind him, and he spun around only for his heart to stop at the sight.

A large man was watching him from the shadows of the trees. He had long white hair that sat on his shoulders, with strange markings decorating his cheeks and forehead. But what scared Talon the most were the bright, white eyes staring back at him. The man began to move towards Talon, and the farmer began to scramble away despite his aching side.

“N-no no no! Stay away! Please!” Talon begged as the man reached him in only a few strides, but he stopped in front him.

“Be at peace, Talon. I will not harm you,” the strange man said, his hand raised in a way to calm him. Talon’s mind went blank as he stared at the large man, his eyes feeling like they were popping out of his sockets.

“D-do I—do I know you?” He stammered, fearing to anger him. The man’s expression was blank as he stared back at him, but he shook his head.

“No. But I know you.”

That certainly didn’t tell Talon anything. He looked side to side again, hoping to find one of his friends, but he remained alone with the strange man who somehow knew him. He swallowed and sat up, once again cradling his side with a wince.

“Um… Who—who are you?” Talon tried again, and the man simply kneeled in front of him, his expression continuing to remain blank. He was silent for a moment, and Talon wondered if he even heard him, but he finally spoke up.

“I am called the Fierce Deity,” he answered.

“Oh.” Well that still didn’t answer anything for Talon. But he supposed it was better than nothing. “Well… Uh… nice to meet you then. Um… Can I just call you Fierce? Or… something?”

Fierce’s expression was making Talon grow uncomfortable. He couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. Was he even a Hylian?

“You may call me whatever you like,” he said after a long moment of silence. Talon nodded, and he began to lean back, his whole body beginning to shake. He fell backwards and let out a sigh, staring at the sky. With this… Fierce Deity here… It was becoming harder and harder to explain the previous events as a dream. Fierce suddenly came into his view, and Talon’s eyes widened.

“Wh-what?”

“Are you alright?”

Talon let out another sigh, rubbing his ribs. “I–I don’t know. My ribs kinda hurt. And I’m confused. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what happened to me, I don’t know how you know me or what you even are. I’m just—” Talon’s voice began to shake and he rested his hand on his eyes. “I’m so confused.”

Fierce’s eyes squinted slightly and he left Talon’s view. “I can explain everything to you Talon, but first—” A twinkling sound was heard, and Fierce entered his vision again, this time with a fairy. “Let’s heal your side.”

Talon frowned, but the fairy floated towards him before he could say anything. In a blink of an eye, the fairy swirled around him, and his side suddenly stopped aching. Talon sat up, staring at his side in surprise. He always knew about the fairies’ abilities to heal, but he never experienced such a thing himself. It was incredible. He looked around him but found that the fairy disappeared. He glanced up at Fierce confused, who picked up on his confusion.

“It’s alright, the fairy only needs to return to a great fairy to rejuvenate her power,” he explained.

Talon nodded and looked down at his side, still amazed by the missing injury. Goddesses, he almost wished he could do that as well.

“It is fortunate that you fell closeby to a fairy fountain,” Fierce continued to explain, and Talon froze. Fell. So Talon did fall, so he…?

“What happened?”

Fierce turned to him and once again kneeled down. “You died.”

Talon’s mind went blank. “What?”

“You died.” He repeated, hitting Talon harder the second time.

“I… died?” Talon repeated himself, feeling his stomach sink to the ground. He died. That fall killed him. How was he alive? Did the fairies save him? Did he die when he hit the ground? His friends…

Did they all think he was dead?

Talon began to grow nauseous, and he ran his hand through his hair. “I died…”

Fierce watched him silently as Talon continued to look down on himself. There was no evidence from the fall, save for his aching ribs, but the fairy healed that away.

“Is-is it true then?” Talon asked in a quiet tone, his voice shaking uncontrollably. Fierce tilted his head which was the first emotion he’s ever seen him express. “Is it true that fairies heal you, even after death?”

Fierce was silent for a moment. “Only immediately after you die. If you die long before you can get to a fairy, then you’ll need fairy’s blood.”

Talon felt the blood drain from his face. Fairy’s blood was extremely illegal in Hyrule. In order to use blood from a fairy, it would have to be killed. To kill a divine creature sent from the goddesses themselves was an act of blasphemy. Did Fierce… kill a fairy to save him?

“You… you didn’t…” Talon started, but he felt his stomach churn, and he covered his mouth, feeling like he was about to vomit. Fierce’s eyes squinted at him, once again showing his confusion. “You didn’t—you didn’t kill a fairy did you?” Talon was able to force out.

“No, you died as soon as I reached the fountain. The fairies wasted no time in helping you.”

Talon felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders and he let out a loud sigh of relief. “Thank the goddesses. I couldn’t live with myself if I was responsible for a fairy’s death.”

The corner of Fierce’s mouth was curled up in a smile, but it went away so quickly Talon thought he imagined it. “I could never harm Hylia’s creatures.”

Talon frowned. Hylia? “Right, well… Thank you for saving my life,” Talon finally said, and Fierce nodded.

“Of course. It is my desire to help Link and those he cares about.”

Talon frowned again. “So you know Link… How—How do you know him? How do you know me?”

“You are Malon’s father.”

Talon nodded slightly. “How do you know my daughter?”

“She is Link’s wife.”

“Ok… And how do you know Link?”

Fierce’s empty eyes stared at him, and Talon swallowed, wishing he could read what he was thinking.

“Link saved me from an eternal fate in Termina,” he finally answered.

It was Talon’s turn to stare. Termina. He’s heard that name before…

“Before I ever saw Link, I always believed that mortals were all the same,” Fierce began, his eyes half-closed as if he were looking down. “They are selfish, greedy, and cruel. They’ll lie to you to benefit them, they’ll steal from you, they’ll hurt you. They use you and then give nothing in return. They imprison you when you have done nothing but help them.” Fierce’s voice had a hint of anger that sent a chill up Talon’s spine. “Link taught me otherwise. When Termina was threatened with destruction, he was the only one who set out and did something about it. I watched him help countless people when it didn’t benefit him; I watched him express compassion that was lacking from other mortals, and I watched him defeat evil, and save Termina.”

Realization hit Talon. Termina. He remembered Link telling him a story about a moon falling in a land and him going back in time over and over again. He always chalked it up as a child’s imagination, but now… was it all real? Did Talon brush his previous adventures away because he didn’t believe him? Guilt crept up on Talon. It was no wonder why he stopped telling Talon his stories. Fierce picked up on his guilt and tilted his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing I just… I think I remember Link telling me about Termina… it’s… it’s real?”

Fierce nodded. “Link understands why you don’t believe him.”

Talon was taken aback. “Oh… well…”

“Do not feel guilty for not believing him.”

“… It probably felt like he had no one to talk to though…” Talon sighed. It was no wonder why Link was always so mature and jaded for a child. If everything he told him was true… poor Link.

“He has Malon.”

He supposed that was true, but regardless, he wasn’t there for Link like he should’ve been. He wondered if he would even want to see him again after this adventure…

“You have no idea how much you mean to him,” Fierce continued when Talon remained silent. “Everything you did for him, he cannot ignore it, nor can I.”

He didn’t feel like he deserved such talk. He didn’t even know why or how the deity knew about any of it. Fierce was large and stood out from the rest of the world like a sore thumb. How did he never notice him there, watching him and his family for the past fifteen years? The thought of it all was making him grow uncomfortable, so he decided to change the subject. “So… Termina… what happened after Link saved it?”

Fierce’s eyes went half closed again. “I’m not sure how he did it, but he left Termina, and he took me with him. I was doomed to remain in Termina forever, away from my Hylia. But because of him, I was able to return to her land.”

“You keep mentioning Hylia, is that a person?”

Despite having a blank expression, Fierce gave Talon a look as if he was stupid. “Hylia, the one who created your kind and Hyrule.”

Talon slowly nodded despite not understanding. He’s never heard of a Hylia who created Hyrule. He always thought it was three golden goddesses. If this Hylia created the land he called home, why hasn’t he ever heard of her?

“I could’ve left Link as soon as I was in Hyrule, but I instantly felt an emptiness where Hylia used to be. Judging by your lack of knowledge of her, I take it she no longer resides here?”

“Uh, no I guess not…”

Fierce stared long and hard at him before turning away. “I see. I was always curious since meeting Link, if Hylia’s influence on the world changed mortal’s nature. But, I suppose it makes sense that they were never influenced by the goddess herself. When Link returned to Hyrule he grew ill and didn’t have the strength to carry on. The mortals simply passed him by, which went against what Hylia believed in.”

Familiarity sparked in Talon. He remembered finding Link again in the middle of Hyrule field, burning up with a terrible fever. So Fierce was watching him the whole time. Where was he?

“You proved me wrong again, Talon. Not all mortals are selfish and greedy. Some are… good, and pure…”

“Wait, what? I proved you wrong? How?”

Fierce gave him another look. “You helped Link, and expected nothing in return.”

Talon frowned. “Is this about when I found him with a fever then? Trust me, I ain’t special for doin’ that.”

“You saved him, Talon. That’s not a small thing.”

“Oh come on! He was a sick kid in the middle of the field! Anyone would’ve helped him!”

“No. No one did.”

Talon froze. “What do ya mean no one helped him?”

“Like I said. The mortals passed him by. Link asked around Kakariko and Castle town for help, but he had no money. No one helped him.” Fierce’s voice grew angry again until his face turned to Talon fully. “You were the only one who reached out to him. He had given up at that point.”

Talon stared at him, shocked. It put everything from that time into perspective for him. Knowing Link, an eleven-year-old boy, tried to get help, but no one did? That didn’t seem possible, no one was that heartless.

“That’s how I know you. I saw the way you and Malon treated him. You may think you’re not a good person because you don’t believe him, but that does not erase all the good you’ve done for him. You restored my faith in mortals, and you saved Link. For that, I thank you.” Fierce bowed slightly. Talon felt his face flush and he turned away. He was starting to hate this praise. It almost felt wrong, especially from a deity.

“It… it really was nothin’. But… um… really I should be the one thankin’ you… for… you know… savin’ my life?”

Fierce squinted his eyes again. “You already thanked me.”

“Oh, well… It certainly doesn’t hurt to thank you again, now does it?”

Fierce stared blankly once again. “Why?”

“Well, like you said, it ain’t a small thing.”

Fierce stared for a moment, then turned away. “You mortals confuse me.”

Talon chuckled. “Well if it makes ya feel any better, mortals confuse me too.”

“But you’re a mortal.”

“Exactly.”

Though it was subtle, Talon could almost pick up an annoyed expression on Fierce’s face, and he couldn’t tell if he should laugh at it or not. They both remained silent for a while, until one more question went through Talon’s brain.

“What… are you?” He asked. Fierce looked contemplative as he looked down at his hand, and he glanced up at Talon.

“I’m not sure. I suppose I am what they call a deity. But I have no divine power unlike the others. A demon is a more appropriate thing to call me.”

Fear pricked at Talon’s chest and he turned away. “So you’re a servant to evil?”

For the first time, Fierce’s expression grew dark, and Talon leaned back. Oh no.

“I will never serve Demise,” he growled. Talon nodded, yet continuing to not understand anything he was saying.

“R-right! Well then… you’re no demon!”

“That’s what we were called in Termina.”

“Well, lucky you, this ain’t Termina.”

Fierce’s expression softened and he didn’t press any further. Talon supposed no one knew what Fierce was, but he began to feel less of a threat to him the more he talked to him. Sort of.

“You should get some rest,” Fierce finally said, standing up. “Fairies don’t rejuvenate energy.”

“Oh,” Talon looked down at himself, admittedly still feeling exhausted from before. But… “My friends will be out lookin’ for me. A-and the puppeteer too… I reckon he’s the reason I fell down the mountain.”

“I will keep watch. But you must restore your strength if you are to continue on.”

Talon sighed. The others could be in danger—Leon could be in danger, and he’d be none the wiser. But his heavy eyelids fought against him and he simply laid back, staring sadly at the sky. His mind began to run rampant over everything that happened to him, and he was struggling to calm himself down so he could rest. He died, he was resurrected, Leon was shot with an arrow, and his friends were either dead, fighting, or captured. How was he going to reunite with them? Will Kass fly down to search for him? Will they try to move down the mountain to find him? Or will they continue on, with Talon completely separated from them? Anxiety pricked at Talon; he couldn’t travel alone, even with a deity at his side. He was a farmer, not a traveler. He wouldn’t survive on his own and he wouldn’t know what to do if something happened. His heart already ached for his home and for his daughter, he didn’t feel like he could handle anymore stress. Tears pricked at his eyes and he rubbed his face, feeling a sob threatening to escape his throat. He was spiraling; no matter how much he tried to not think about his current situation, he couldn’t help but only think about it. It was all too much—this whole adventure was too much. Just as he felt himself go into panic, a soft melody suddenly filled the air. It was a gentle, rising melody that put Talon’s mind at ease. He felt his body relax and his eyes grow heavy, and a thought went through his head.

You’re going to be ok.

Talon took in a shaky breath, tears threatening to spill, but the gentle melody continued playing, and he was finally able to fall asleep.

#smiles writes #strangers across eras #sequel?? 👀 #I would add a link but they are different enough #and I don’t want to mess up the stupid format #fierce deity #talon #ocarina of time #poor talon is so overwhelmed #I’m not as proud of this one as I am the first one #the beginning is kind of a slog to get through #but this was a fun idea to play with #everyone mentioning FD in the first one looool #temporary death #crap I forgot to say thank you to bearie for beta reading this #thank you bearie once again for beta reading this

[lovelybrooke]

Could you write a fic about how gojo met the reader? In the isekai au. This can be either the au from your original headcanons or the one you spoke about with that anon. Up to you. Alternatively if that’s too difficult could you just write how gojo finds out he’s extremely attached to the reader? (Also in the isekai au) if I’m being honest I just want a oneshot with the reader and gojo from the isekai au

A Long Forgotten Friend (Yandere Gojo Satoru/Jujutsu Kaisen)

So this is based off the many posts regrading the Isekai Au, feel free to read over them. I highly suggest reading this first, just so you can get the basics, because it might be confusing otherwise.

masterlist

---

Your body has felt strange for the past few days. It's like you were constantly on edge, teetering between wanting to pass out and wanting to scream. You didn't know where it came from, but you had a sneaking suspicion that being transported to a different dimension had something to do with it. 

You poke at the food in front of you, rice and some meat, but you feel as though you would yak if you put anything in your mouth. You suppress a jump as you hear someone sit down across from you, looking up to see bright blue eyes looking right back at you. The stare made you feel even more worse than before, not at the fault of him, but mainly due to how nervous you were in this very moment. You feel him studying you, intensely so. You knew who he was, Gojo Satoru, but that didn't make you less worried as his eyes scanned you over again and again, making you grip your utensils tight. 

"I-I'm sorry, I'm not very hungry." Your voice was quiet, distant even, and you're surprised he even heard you. 

He doesn't react instantly, instead remaining quiet, the only real sound being the sound of your uneven, anxious breathing. You couldn't keep your gaze on him any longer, eyes darting around the very expensive room, internally comparing it to your own back home. It was huge, sparkling, and lavish, but it didn't feel lived in, strangely cold for something that was supposedly a home. 

"You really don't remember anything, do you?" Your eyes drifted back towards the sound of his voice, and when you looked at him all you were met with was sadness. He looked defeated, eyes droopy and shoulders sagged. The once bright eyes were previously familiar with, were now drowned out by sorrow, making your heart sink. You placed your utensils down on the table and placed your hands in your lap, staring down at them as you contemplated your next words. 

When you first arrived here, in this world, you wanted to keep a low profile. You didn't want to get into anyone's way, not because you thought highly of yourself, but because you didn't want to get into any trouble. This was a world filled with sorcerers and curses, and you knew you could get yourself killed if you drew too much attention to yourself, so you laid low and kept away from people. But of course, that didn't work for long. 

You ran into him on the street one day. 

"It's you." He breathed out as he stared at you intensely. "Y-You're back." His stare was intense, blocking out everyone else around you. He whispered your name, but it felt so loud compared to everything else. Your heart was beating out of your chest, how did he know your name? You've never met him before, what is going on? You swear you've never seen him before, you made sure to not cross paths with any of them. So how did he know you? 

He ran up to you, gripping your arms. 

"Y-you haven't changed a bit, haven't you?" He let out what sounded like a laugh, but it was almost in disbelief, like he was shocked at your mere presence. His eyes were blown wide, and a small shaky smile grew across his face. This wasn't how you were used to seeing him, so...unkempt and confused, but so clearly happy. 

His hands tightened their grip on your arms, becoming nearly painful as you tried to move away. You were uncomfortable, he knew you were uncomfortable, but he didn't let you back away, simply watching as you struggled in his hold. People around you were giving you strange looks, clearly weirded out by the behavior, causing you to heat up in embarrassment. 

"I-I'm sorry, I don't--I don't" You stutter out. "Do I know you?" You question, feeling his grip loosen as the words come out of his mouth. You can almost hear his heart break, his shoulders drooping as his hands return to his sides. You see his chest rise and fall rapidly, and for a moment you question what you've just done. 

"I'm sorry, Gojo--I don't know what you want me to remember." You said finally, looking up at him, realize he never looked away from you. It was quiet, Gojo appeared to be thinking as he moved his head to look out the window. Stars decorated the night sky, it was beautiful, but you didn't find any comfort in it. 

"That's fine." He finally said, shocking you. He sounded more confident, nearly back to his original self, but it sounded more like affirmations, like he was trying to prove to himself that everything was in fact fine. You couldn't help but doubt him, taking note of his closed fist and stiff composure, but you had no choice but to trust him. He offered you a place to stay, in this apartment of his, making your time here much safer. 

Even with his words, he still felt distant, and you still ached to understand him, understand what you and him once had, even if it was all gone to you now. You wanted to know why he was so happy to see you, and you wanted to know why he was so beat up when you didn't remember him. Even if none of this is real, even if this is some silly dream, you couldn't help but be so intrigued. 

"--Just promise me you won't leave again." Again, he said, like this has happened once before. Your mind swarmed with possibilities, wondering what he meant by that, if this has happened to you once in the past. 

"I promise." You find yourself saying without even realizing it, and for some reason, you find yourself questioning what you just did, what you just got yourself into. 

Gojo's smile is the only thing to distract you from those worries.

---

A/n: I really hope this made sense.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere jjk #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #platonic yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[kaciidubs]

Open Heart

❣ Summary: When you don't know what to say or do, when life starts living you, you can always rely on Chris to bring you back. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 3.2k ❣ Warnings: Mental breakdown, existential crisis, implied panic attack, angst, fluff, comfort, crying, Supportive BF! Chris, Reader is a mess mentally and emotionally, discussions of family, careers, life, and the future, self doubt, self deprecation, mentioned disassociation ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Christopher, and Christopher Bahng [wowie], Reader is referred to as Princess, Baby, Love, Sweet Girl, this is the one that's personal so I'm sorry if you can relate but also you're not alone ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Yeah, dad, I know... Mhm... No, I haven’t heard back from them yet, but it’s only been a week since I applied so... Yeah, I know…”

You paced the living room of your apartment, holding your phone to your ear as you did your best to tame the headache brewing in your head. 

“I know you do, it’s just - there’s so many things I can do with my degree, I’m just trying to figure out what I want to do... I know... Yeah... Okay... Talk to you later... Love you too, bye.” 

Ending the call, you tossed your phone onto the couch with a heavy sigh - the weight of the world piling on top of stress already weighing on your shoulders. 

Everything sucked - almost as if the world was out to get you for simply existing; years of doing what was right, doing what you were supposed to, only for you to still feel like you weren’t doing enough. 

People pleasing. 

A wave of guilt made your stomach turn, tears stinging behind your eyes as you stood in the silence, yet it still felt so loud. 

You knew your dad meant well, your parents meant well, your family meant well, but every question, every poorly veiled nudge of ‘What’s your next big move going to be? You’ve been stagnant for so long.’ ate at your psyche at every turn. You felt like you did everything; you graduated high school in the high percentage of your class, you went to college, you graduated as a first generation student after five excruciatingly long years - yet through all that they still wanted more from you. 

A pleasure to have known. You have so much potential.

If you had a dime for the amount of times you’ve heard those words, you would’ve been a millionaire by now. 

A shaky breath rattled in your chest as you sighed, your hands rising to cup your rapidly heating face. “Fuck... F-Fuck.”

Your vision blurred, salty tears stinging your eyes before burning fiery trails down your cheeks with no signs of stopping. 

When was it going to be enough? When were you going to be enough? 

Your breath hitched, choking on a sob that your body refused to let go - not now, not right now. You were still young, you had so much potential - so why did it feel like you were being rushed? Why did it feel like everyone saw some invisible clock above you, counting down the days until you’d become useless? 

Wasted potential - those words always used to scare you, the famous buzzwords of any educator wanting to instill proper work ethic in their students; the future of the workforce. 

Wasted potential - that’s what you were beginning to feel at your 9-5; a quaint little job you kept throughout your final semester, something that got the bills paid and kept a little more in your savings. 

Wasted potential - that’s what you felt when your days began blending together, when you realized disassociation was your coping mechanism until your mouse hovered over ‘clock out’. 

You wanted to do so much, so much, but there was never enough time in the day - they were never ideas that would earn you a proper living wage, a career path your family wouldn’t agree with. 

Your body shook as a sob finally tore through your silent cries, your head throbbing as air tried to force its way into your lungs - crying never used to hurt like this.

Your world spun, it felt like time froze while speeding up, but all you could do was cry - stand in your living room and cry like a reprimanded child because you weren’t doing what you were supposed to. 

“Princess?” 

Your eyes snapped open behind your fingers, quickly registering a bigger, warmer pair wrapping around your wrists. 

“Baby, can you hear me?” 

Guilt. 

Chris was home early, and instead of relaxing like he deserved, he now had to tend to you - crying over the same thing you cried over four months ago. 

He felt you tense, he could see the spiral of overthinking, and his grip tightened, “Hey, hey, it’s just me - it’s just me, princess.” 

You sniffled, biting back another sob as you shook your head, “’M s-sorry-” 

“Shh, don’t apologize - you don’t have to apologize, not to me, not for this.” 

Understanding - he was always so good at that, making sure you knew you weren’t the problem of anything; he always joked he got better at it from you. 

Another wave of tears surged through you, nearly making you double over at the rush of fresh emotions popping off in your brain, your jaw tensing as you tried to stifle the illegible babbling falling from your lips. 

“I- It’s- I can’t- And- It’s just so-” 

Chris pulled you into his chest, one arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other cradled the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing circles just behind your ear. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay - I’m here, you’re okay.” 

He blinked away his own tears, the sounds of your cries breaking his heart when he entered the apartment, and now the feeling of your body shaking against his like a fall leaf utterly tearing him apart inside. 

You weren’t sure how long you both stood there, him whispering words of comfort in your ear while you stained his black hoodie with your tears, but you slowly came out of your breakdown with uneven breaths - your hands holding onto his hoodie as if he was your lifeline. 

He was your lifeline.

“Can we go to the bedroom, princess? Can we manage that?” He cooed softly, a soft smile settling on his lips as he felt you nod. “Okay, we’ll go slow, yeah?” 

True to his word, he slowly led you into the bedroom with shuffling steps, noting how you clung to him like a baby koala, as if you separated from him at any point you’d float away into space. 

Sitting on the bed first, he scooted toward the middle of the mattress and you quickly followed suit; crawling toward him before laying your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his while he pulled you into his side. 

It was quiet, save for the occasional hiccuped breath and sniffle, the sound of his heartbeat slowing the thudding in your own head, the rise and fall of his chest reminding you how to breathe again.

“Love?” 

You hummed softly, your free hand nonchalantly playing with the drawstring of his hoodie. 

“Wanna talk about what happened?” 

Dropping your hand to lay flat on his chest, you took a deep breath to fight back another round of tears threatening to come out. “I... My dad called to check in, see how we were doing and all... He wanted to know if I found a different job yet, one that uses my degree, and I told him I hadn’t.” Swallowing thickly, you squeezed your eyes shut as you continued, “He’s worried that I’m not using my full potential, that I’m not getting paid what I should - and I don’t blame him, really, I went to college for a reason and everything, but it just feels like I'm being rushed into making another decision I’m not ready for." 

“Another decision like picking your major?” Chris chimed in - he’d remembered you telling him about your realization of wanting to switch majors in your junior year, but ultimately choosing not to since you were close to graduating at the time. 

You nodded, “I know he means well, I love my dad, I love my family, but it just feels like they don’t understand that I'm just...tired. I’m so, so tired that the idea of getting a new job - when I’ve only been at this one for just over a year - makes me feel like I can’t breathe. Fuck, the fact that I’ve been at this job for a year makes my skin crawl because this isn't what I want.”

Picking mindlessly at a few cotton pills collected on the fabric of his hoodie, a heavy sigh escaped you, “I feel like all I’ve been doing my whole life is performing for other people, catering to other people, to the point that I don’t even know who I am. I’ve always been told all these great things about myself, but-” A hot tear rolled across the bridge of your nose, “I don’t believe them, at all. Everyone sees all this potential in me and it drives me crazy because I don’t see potential in myself.”

Your name rolled off of his tongue softly, with so much care and gentleness that it made your heart hurt more because he’d been part of the crowd singing your praises and you practically confessed that you didn’t believe him. 

“Princess, my sweet, sweet girl…” 

“C-Chris, I’m-” 

“Please,” he cut you off with a gentle squeeze, “you already know what I’m gonna say if the next words out of that pretty mouth of yours are ‘I’m sorry’.”

Sighing softly, you accepted that fate as his right hand slid down your arm to take your hand in his, another gentle squeeze to remind you that he’s right here. 

“I just... I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

“Well,” Chris hummed softly, taking in the way your smaller fingers threaded between his own, “what is it you want to do?” 

It was almost as if you stopped breathing, guilt and shame swirling around in your head at his question - the golden question everyone had, but never got the full answer to. 

“...open heart?” 

This time it was Chris’s turn to falter, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your tear stained face. “Open heart, princess, always.” 

Open heart, something you’d both established years ago in your relationship as a way of asking for full attention - reestablishing that you both were in a safe space with zero judgment, remaining heart to heart with one another. 

“I-” You paused, fighting against the will of your mind wanting to keep yourself protected, from being seen. “I... I don't want to do anything…”

Before he even had the chance to breathe, you jumped into the defensive, “A-And I know that’s stupid- I’m in such a position so early on in my life and there’s so much I can do, but, baby, I’m at a point right now that I can’t see myself working a 9-5 for the next month, let alone another 40-or so years of my life!” Panic quickly began to set in as your thoughts ran a mile a minute, your brain begging you to stop but your heart pleading for you to get rid of this weight. “I can’t be a girl boss, I don’t want to be independent, I-I just wanna be taken care of and loved and supported - I wanna take care of all the things at home and be the one helping you reset after those stressful days. I wanna learn about myself and my hobbies and discover what kind of person I really am underneath all of these learned traits. And I’m sorry, I know, it’s pathetic, it’s shameful, it’s selfish to want to put all of this onto you-” 

The sound of your name falling firm from his lips stopped you in your tracks, your blood running cold as you laid as still as you could be against him. 

“Open heart means we can’t speak for each other, remember that rule?” His tone was softer, light and teasing, quelling the tinge of fear spoiling every word you spoke as you nodded. “Okay, good - now, can I say something, or would you like to continue?” 

“Please say something, Channie.” 

“Alright, first and foremost, don’t ever, ever call anything you want ‘stupid’ - your desires are what make you you, and that includes wanting that 24-inch green matcha squishmallow.” 

He felt your body shake - short laugh, a huff of air, a sign that he was breaking through.

“Second, I don’t think you wanting to be provided for is pathetic or shameful or selfish - it takes a strong person to admit that, and at the end of the day I think that’s what everyone wants in their own special form; somewhere they feel safe, cared for, loved. And, you’re not putting it all on me,” he felt you tense, but his hand held firm to yours, “because I want to be that for you. I want to provide for you, take care of you, handle all the things that are too big and scary for you to figure out on your own. I want to give you the freedom to explore and be yourself, pursue what you want and don’t want to do - and if that makes you ‘selfish’ then, princess, I’m the most selfish person of them all.”

“You-” your voice cracked, throat raw and sore, “You don’t mean that, baby, please-”

“C’mere.” He huffed, pulling you up with him as he sat up before tapping your thigh, signaling for you to sit on his lap - and once you were situated, he cupped your face in his hands, “I would never lie to you, you hear me? Since the day we met I knew I wanted to do everything in my power to care for you, even when we were just friends and you would join the kids in teasing me about how old I was even though you weren’t too far off yourself.” 

Your pouted lips morphed into a sad smile and he had to stop himself from cooing over how cute you looked, even with puffy eyes and an even puffier face.

“Plus, I’ve been taking care of seven other people for the better half of five years, what makes you think I don’t want to do the same for the love of my life?”

Teary eyes searched his for any sign of dishonesty, but all you found was overflowing truth and love, a fresh breath of acceptance cooling your lungs like drinking ice water after eating a mint.

“Open heart?” You murmured softly, taking his hands in your own before pulling them off of your, embarrassingly sore, face.

He nodded, ducking his head to press a fleeting kiss to your knuckles.

“I was always a little jealous of you, you know that?”

“Me?!” 

The shocked squeak in his voice made a giggle, a genuine giggle, bubble up inside of you and you nodded in earnest. 

“Yeah, you. I always felt like I was so far behind everyone around me when it came to having their passions in order, having their lives in order, and when I met you all I could think about was how sure of yourself you were - how you were able to follow through and actually do what you love for a living not only because people around you supported you, but because you believed in yourself.” Dropping your gaze to your entwined hands, you traced your thumbs along his knuckles, “You always knew what you wanted and you worked toward it - I always wished I could be like that, I still do.”

“Baby, you know you can’t-”

“-compare my life to yours, yeah, yeah, I know.”

He didn’t miss the lilt of playfulness highlighting your words, a smile finding its way to his face as he shot you a lighthearted glare, “No mocking! But, really, you shouldn’t - we come from completely different backgrounds, and if anything I’m more jealous of you than you are of me; there’s so many things you’ve done that I haven’t had the chance to experience.”

You let out an incredulous scoff, tilting your head inquisitively, “Like what? Work a draining part time job in the food industry?”

“Yes!” Though he was laughing, you could still hear the serious notes in his voice, “You got to work retail, you went on family vacations whenever you wanted, you fucking graduated college before I did!”

“Okay, first of all, all of my horror stories should deter you from ever wanting to become a retail employee in your near future!” Dropping his hand, you poked him in the chest with a faux glare, “Second, I guess you’ve got me there - between how often I’ve seen my family compared to you, I do win that spot… But that last one you definitely have over me, Mr. Double Major!”

“Oh shut up - you’re a graduate, I’m still in classes; you didn’t have to go from having practice at 8 but an exam due at 8:30, while still needing two demo tracks ready for the first listen at 10!”

The two of you dissolved into a mess of giggles and smiles, whatever tension remained melting away with each melodic sound that escaped you.

“Princess?”

You hummed, a soft smile settling on your lips, “Yeah, Channie?”

“Open heart,” Chris started warmly, deep brown eyes sparkling with a love only you could know, “I want you to know that I meant every word I said - I do want to take care of you, physically, mentally, financially, whatever way you’ll let me. And - not to sound cocky or anything, but I definitely make enough to support the both of us with no issue. Aside from that, I want to build a life with you - so if that life includes you being the hottest stay at home wife then it’s the best life I could’ve ever asked for because you’re in it.”

A wave of heat rushed over you as butterflies erupted in your stomach, “Stay at home wife, hm?” 

Of course, you paid attention to everything else he said, but you didn’t think you’d be able to say anything on it without bursting into tears again.

“Would you prefer stay at home mom? I mean, you’ve already got seven kids calling you it anyways - and I can’t lie, it does have a nice ring to it.” He grinned, releasing your other hand to wind his arms around your waist, scooting your body closer to his.

Rolling your eyes at his less than subtle tease, you snaked your arms around his shoulders, nails playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, “Let’s just start with stay at home girlfriend and see where we go from there, yeah?”

“So you’ll quit tomorrow?”

“Christopher!” You stood no chance in holding back the burst of laughter that escaped you, narrowly avoiding knocking your head against his as you shook with unabashed giggles, “Tomorrow? You sound like you’ve been waiting for this confession to come!”

“Baby, I was one more angry rant of your supervisor ‘springing last minute work onto you’ away from quitting for you.”

Reeling yourself back in, you leaned forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss, your world finally feeling like the pieces were slowly falling into place - or, at the very least, revealing themselves to you. “I love you, Christopher Bahng, wholly and truthfully, there’s no words in the entire galaxy to express how much you mean to me.”

He held you tight, pressing his forehead against yours with a soft sigh, “I love you more, more than you ever know, more than all the stars in this universe and the next. Whatever you decide, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you - just say the word.”

“Does that include ordering takeout for dinner tonight so we can keep cuddling?”

“Find a menu while I change?”

“Order it while I wash my face?”

“Deal.”

Everything sucked, sure, and there was still much left to figure out - but with Chris by your side, you realized that things could get better with an open mind and an open heart.

#stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader #bang chan angst #bangchan angst #bang chan fluff #bangchan fluff #tw mental health #mental health tw

[ja3yun]

The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.2

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: smut (mdni). exhibitionism (slightly), fluff, angst, y/n is kinda mean, fingering, oral (m+f rec), pet names, protected/unprotected sex, not proofread, anything else lmk!

wc: 17k+ (sorry)

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. however, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

part 1 | part 3

a/n: hi! this part is heavily filled with plot, drama and smut. hope you all like it. this will probably be the deciding factor of if I continue the series (I have written it all now) or not. if you like it and want more please lmk!

To say everything was going well with you and Jaeyun over the next year would be an understatement.You had never felt so loved in your life; not by your parents, not by your siblings, it was only Jaeyun that made you feel like the world had its saturation turned up. The sun had a habit of making life look brighter.

Your 18th birthday party was tonight and you had been planning this for the past few months. It fell right after exams so you were going to use it as an excuse to get everyone together and let loose. Did you have an abundance of friends? Not really, you had your group of all-weather friends. Did that mean you didn’t invite everyone in your year that you liked so you could have a great birthday bash? Absolutely not.

Your friends Ryujin and Yeji were there to help you pick out a birthday outfit which of course you had preemptively chosen knowing that it would have the approval of your best friends and your boyfriend.

“Y/N, you look amazing,” Ryujin said as she eyed you in your short black dress with red lace trimming the bottom and ends, “You look so good, Jake isn’t going to be able to keep his hands off you.” You smile and nod, she would never know you bought the dress specifically for that reason. When you were in the store there were lots of dresses that fit your normal aesthetic but you wanted something bold, something that said you’re no longer a little girl. Of course, you were still a little girl, one birthday isn’t going to magically make you an adult but that didn’t mean you couldn’t look like it.

A few hours later and the party is in full swing, your parents are gone, there is over 50 people in your house, and you have to get to see Jaeyun. You’re getting nervous that he isn’t going to come. His text message stares at you as you read it for the nth time.

Be there soon, Baby. Can’t wait to see my girl! x

That was two hours ago. 

“Hey.” A voice from behind you pulls you out of your trance and you look at him, his body close to yours, “You’re the birthday girl, right? I’m Sunghoon.” His sleeked-back hair and perfect features throw your whole state of being off. 

“H-Hey. Um, yeah I am! Thank you for coming.” You bow a little and as you come up, your eyes meet his, and your face goes red. He is so beautiful, mesmerising, unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. The moon shines on his face as it bleeds through the windows. The freckles on his face add another dimension of beauty, his canines gleaming when he smiles.

“You’re Jake’s girlfriend? Where is he?” where is he? You ask yourself the same question. He is always beside you, always on time, always here. 

You shrug your shoulders and fakely chuckle, “I have no idea actually.” Honesty is the best policy but as Sunghoon’s hand reaches for your arm you think it was better if you had lied and told him Jaeyun was only away to the toilet. Jaeyun please come here quick. Sunghoon caught on to your rigid demeanor and nodded. He knew Jaeyun had an unholy hold on you.

“If I was Jake,” he started, “I would never let my pretty girlfriend stand alone at her own party.” Sunghoon kissed your temple.

He was right. Jaeyun should have been here the whole time. Are you too lenient on him? You take a shot of Cherry Sourz, Jaeyun’s favourite you mentally note. An earlier conversation with Yeji pops into your head.

“If you’re going to celebrate your 18th birthday you might as well have no regrets.”

And that’s exactly what you did. 4 hours after the party started you had no sense of yourself, Jaeyun was still nowhere to be found, and you were handed another shot. This was your 9th shot to be exact. 

Jaeyun strolls through the door with his friends Heeseung and Jay. His attitude was relaxed, a smile plastered on his face as he said hi to the people in the hallway; that was until he saw you.

Your body in that dress, your hair tussled from the dancing, the way the smile was placed upon your place, those hands that were on your hips. Jaeyun paused, his jaw that was once relaxed now clenched as he saw who was behind the foreign hands holding you - Sunghoon. 

Huffing, Jaeyun clenched his fists and walked over to you, jealousy seeping through every part of his body. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he was intimidated by Sunghoon, he wasn’t delusional to the fact that Sunghoon was attractive, probably the most handsome guy at the school and lamentably for Jaeyun, he was clearly into you. 

“Baby.” Jaeyun whispers as he wraps his arms around your waist and knocks Sunghoon off of you in the process, resting his head on your right shoulder, “Happy birthday, my love.” You were mad at him, but his touch was almost enough to forgive him. Unfortunately for Jaeyun, the shots didn’t make you forgive but rather fueled your anger towards him. 

You brushed his hands off ignoring him as you continued your conversation with Sunghoon. Jaeyun was hurt. In a way, he understood why you were acting like this, he let you down, and football practice lasted way longer than he intended, however, he wasn’t about to let Sunghoon take up all your attention. “Princess,” he whispered, knowing exactly what it did to you. You couldn’t ignore him anymore but that didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes.  Jaeyun noticed. “I’m sorry I’m late, I feel like such a dickhea-”

“Good. I hope you feel worse than that. I have been waiting for 4 hours. Do you know how embarrassing that is? All so you could what? Kick a ball about? Cheat on me? I don’t understand what was so much more important.”

Jaeyun stands still. He feels sick to think that even for a second you thought that you weren’t the most important person in his life. Cheat. That word echoed in his mind and he started to feel sick. Did he not show you love enough? Why was that one of the first things you thought of? He would never dream of it, he hasn’t even so much looked at a girl since he met you.

“Baby, I’m sorry I got caught up in football practice.” He confessed honestly. Was it an excuse? No, but his coach wasn’t letting him away no matter the excuse he gave.

“Whatever, Jake.” Jake. You hardly ever called him that before, not since you found out he liked being called Jaeyun more. Everyone called him Jake except for his family and you. His face turned pale as he realised how hurt you were by his actions. “Go enjoy yourself, I’m in the middle of a conversation.” His eyes met Sunghoon as you spoke. Sunghoon had a smirk on his face as if he had won in a game Jaeyun didn't know he was playing, and he did not want to be a part of it. 

You turned to Sunghoon and continued to speak to him, ignoring Jaeyun’s sad expression as you laughed at whatever shitty joke Sunghoon had to offer. 

To say Jaeyun was a sensitive soul would be an understatement. His feelings were so easy to read because he never thought to hide them, and as much as he was bottling his anger as Sunghoon stroked your arm, he wasn’t hiding it well. You were getting dangerously close to Sunghoon, your chest was millimetres away from him, and your head was tilted up to look at him. When Sunghoon leans down as if he is going to kiss you, Jaeyun knows he has to do something.Sunghoon had a reputation and Jaeyun would be damned if he let you be a part of it.

He strides over and hugs you from behind not unlike before. Trying to keep his cool and not come off as jealous he nuzzles his face into your neck and whines, “Baby.” Dragging out the pet name was a tactic he’ll admit. He knew you couldn’t resist it. “Can I give you your present now?”

“Is it to leave me alone? Because I would love that.” You spat at him. As soon as you turned around to look at him you instantly regretted the words that escaped your lips. Jaeyun’s eyes were wide, his brain was working overtime, and his chest was moving heavily. The alcohol in your system was making you react in a completely opposite way to how you would have. If sober you was alert she would have comforted Jaeyun and given him a thousand kisses to apologise, but drunk you was in charge and she was dangerous. “I need you to stop being so clingy, it's embarrassing.” Stop talking you screamed at yourself, “Can’t you see I’m talking to someone?” For the love of god please shut up and apologise. 

“Oh.” Jaeyun nodded slowly. He has never gotten angry, not once since you’ve known him, at least not seriously, but right now you see a fire behind his eyes that makes you wonder if you’re seeing things. He pushed his tongue to the side of his mouth and looked down, letting out a half scoff half laugh.  “Hope you have fun fucking him.” Jaeyun glares at Sunghoon and with that, he leaves. You call his name but he pushes through the crowded people to escape through the front door. 

He hears you calling his name but he is too upset to answer you. Your hand grabs his wrist as you pull at him, “Babe, please.” You plead but he yanks his arm away and continues walking. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.”

“Mean what? That I’m clingy? That you would rather speak to Sunghoon? That you think i would ever cheat on you?” His voice turns venomous towards the end and in that moment you realise what you’ve actually done. “Okay, yes I was late for your birthday, and believe me Y/N I am so fucking sorry. I tried to get away and I couldn’t. But you flirting with someone right in front of me? That’s a low i never expected.”

“Jaeyun I never-”

“Don’t fucking try it.” Jaeyun cuts you off. You have never seen him like this. “I’ll take anything you have to say to me, all the criticisms, but don’t you dare ever for a second think I would cheat on you.” Tears are forming in his eyes but he blinks them away and exhales slowly trying to regain some composure. He might have been upset with you but he couldn’t bare to shout at you. “Y/N, I can’t control what you do, or what you think, but you can’t fuck with me like that.”

He was right. You were flirting with another guy because you were mad at Jaeyun. It wasn’t fair to him. You stare at him and bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying. You want to hug him and kiss him and apologise but your body and brain were fueled by the substances consumed earlier. “You know what Jaeyun?” you started, “How am I supposed to know you aren’t going around with other people? Half of your football team were here on time but suddenly the coach only wants you to stay behind? Fucking funny that isn’t it?”

“I fucking love you, Y/N. That should be enough for you to understand I’m not screwing anyone behind your back. Do you not trust me? Have I done something that would make you not trust me?” His voice is angry but not raised. Jaeyun sees the hurt in your eyes at his temper and it almost makes him aplogise. Almost. What does he have to be sorry for? He said he was sorry for being late, it was you who blew this into a big deal.

You knew it too. You knew deep down he would never cheat on you, and he wouldn’t be late for your birthday unless something was holding him back. The alcohol that coursed through your veins wasn’t helping you be a reasonable person, however. You stood in silence, staring at Jaeyun. He scoffs. “You don’t trust me? Fine. You know what?” Jaeyun takes a gift-wrapped box from his jacket pocket and throws it with force on the ground at your feet. “Happy fucking birthday, Y/N. Hope Sunghoon gets you off better than I can.” 

Frozen, you watch him walk home angrily. Your first fight and it was over something so stupid, something you caused and could easily have been fixed. No, it wasn’t great that he was late, but it wasn’t worth losing him over.

You bend down to pick up the box and unwrap it. As you flip open the box you see a gold sun-shaped necklace with a rose quartz centre. It’s beautiful and it’s so obviously Jaeyun. You were his sunshine, his love, his everything, and he probably saved up for this necklace which was clearly handmade. The engraving was the date you first started school, the day you first met. 

You were an idiot. You had to make it right, you can’t lose him. Losing him would ruin you completely. Running as fast as you can in heels you try to catch up with him but he is nowhere to be found. You spend a good hour outside looking for him before making your way to his house. He had to be there by now.

As you stand before his front door you inhale a deep breath and chap the door vigorously. 

“Oh my days it’s like 2 am what do you want.” Jaeyun opens the door quickly, speaking before he has even seen you. His eyes fall on you, red-faced, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, the dress is hiked up sitting just under your ass. “Y/N?” 

Bursting into tears you blabber out everything you have to say. “Jaeyun I am such an idiot, I am so sorry for ever thinking you would cheat. To be honest, I knew you would never, I was just drunk” You’ve started to sober up in between the running and crying, “You were late for my birthday and It honestly wasn’t even that big a deal, I was angry and stupid. I love you so much please don’t break up with me.” You rush the last few sentences in between sobs. 

Standing in the doorframe, Jaeyun’s eyes are soft, a smile gracing his lips - a complete opposite to how he was only a few hours ago. He hated how blown out this whole thing was. It took him coming home and showering to calm down and assess how undeep the situation truly was.

“Princess, I know.” He brings you in for a hug and squeezes you as if at any moment you could disappear. “I will never break up with you, my love.” A kiss to your forehead. “I’m not angry at you.” A kiss to your temple.”I’m sorry I was clingy” A kiss to your cheek. “I love you so much.” A kiss to your lips.

You pull away with wide eyes, “You aren’t clingy, I was an idiot. I love you, I want you to be clingy all the time. I love it. I was just mad you were late.” Jaeyun nods in understanding and bites his lip, a habit of his you’ve never been able to get over.

“I’m sorry I was late.” He stares at you with his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes are red and puffy, his show clear signs of crying too. You were both so scared to lose each other in this moment that no words were exchanged, just this stare.

He pulls you in for a kiss and grabs your waist as he brings you into his house. “Stay with me tonight.” He whispers, almost unmissable if you weren’t listening. You nod and keep kissing him. 

“I’m sorry, Jaeyun.” He shakes his head.

“No, don’t. Don’t keep apologising, we were both silly.” He looks down at your hands and notices the box that contains his birthday present to you. “Did you like it?” You’re confused at first but as your eyes follow his to where they are looking for you to answer.

“I love it, can you put it on me?” 

Without another word, he nods and brings you into his room. He quietly shuts the door trying not to alert his parents. Jaeyun was surprised at how they didn’t wake up with you banging at the door but he didn’t give it too much thought. “Turn around, Princess.”

Obediently you turn around and hand him the necklace. As he clasps the jewelry around your neck you shiver at the coldness of the gold. The coldness doesn’t last long as Jaeyun starts kissing your neck, his plump lips pressing softly. 

“Jaeyun,” You moan softly and turn to face him, “let me make it up to you.” Your hands trail down his body as you stop at his lower abdomen. It’s only now you realise he’s only wearing his black boxers. “I’ve been so horrible to you.” As you play with the lining of his underwear, Jaeyun throws his head back. He wants this, he really does. You’re beautiful all the time but there is something so ethereal about your lips around his cock. But you’re intoxicated and upset and he doesn’t want to take advantage of that.

“Baby, I don’t need you to do that.” Jaeyun’s heart is beating fast as you trace the outline of his cock. “Please, you’re drunk and I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” He’s trying to defuse this situation without hurting your feelings. What he isn’t aware of is that you aren’t listening to him, a hand trespasses his boxers and lightly strokes his cock making him mutter an almost inaudible ‘fuck.’

With a hand on him, you guide him to sit on the gaming chair in his room. “Relax, Jaeyun. I know how much you love my mouth.” He could come right there and then. You slide his boxers off, slapping his thigh so he will lift his bum off the chair. “I’ve missed your cock so much.”

Jaeyun laughs at that. “We literally fucked yesterday.” 

“Technically it was 2 days ago,” you point to the clock that reads 2.37 am, “and I didn’t even get the celebratory cliche birthday sex.” Pouting while you were down on your knees had Jaeyun’s head in meltdown mode. You were so beautiful, in spite of the tear-stained cheeks and mascara smudging, you looked so irresistible.

His hand comes to cup your cheek as his thumb wipes away the running makeup from your face, “You’re so lovely.” You smile and he mirrors you, “Lovely people deserve to get fucked on their birthday, yeah?” Jaeyun breathes out.

There it is, the Jaeyun you were waiting for, and the permission you needed to take his cock in your mouth. It caught him off guard and his hands instinctively moved to your hair. “Fuck, Princess you’re so beautiful like this.” He looks down at you with admiration and desire. You bob your head up and down, every time you come up you swirl your tongue around the tip, dipping into his slit every second time. You knew everything that made Jaeyun feel pleasure. Over the past few years, you’ve learned and memorised each other's bodies, likes and dislikes. You were convinced no one could ever know you the way Jaeyun does. 

A few weeks ago you walked in on Jaeyun jerking off to porn. He threw his phone away and apologised a million times. You’re not the type of girlfriend that has an issue with her boyfriend watching porn, you too have done it sometimes if he’s away for the weekend to football training. What you did notice though was that as you picked up the phone, the girl was giving very enthusiastic head, gagging as he fucked his cock into her mouth. You had never done anything like that before. Jaeyun always held back thrusting his hips up so as to not cause you pain or discomfort. But you wanted it.

So today, you were going to give him everything you got. Apologies can’t be half-arsed, right?

You smile and lift your bum from your feet so you’re hovering over his cock at a higher angle. Smirking, your eyes meet his and you take his full length in your mouth, gagging as the tip breaches the back of your throat.

“Baby be careful.” Jaeyun was always attentive, always caring, but right now you needed to see him lose control. You don’t come off his cock but rather sit with his dick in your mouth and swallow - a trick that wasn’t easy to master but you knew it would drive him crazy. “Fuck, Princess.” As he feels your throat close and pinch the tip of his dick he moans so loudly you’re scared his parents might hear him.

You work your mouth up and down his cock again, you pinch his thighs a little and his hips thrust up, slamming his cock into your throat again. “Shit, baby I’m sorry.” You simply moan trying to let him know that's what you want. You pinch him again and he gets the memo. “Oh? Does my love want me to fuck her pretty little mouth?” You’re dripping by this point and hum around him in acknowledgment. He leans down and pulls you off his cock. “Tell me you want it.” Jaeyun’s hand has your hair in a ponytail. 

“I want you to fuck my throat until I can’t speak anymore.” A groan leaves his body. You’re perfect, he doesn’t understand where you came from, or how you both exist in this lifetime together, but he is so thankful.

“If it gets too much just tap my leg three times okay, Baby? No matter what. If it hurts, if you need air, let me know.” Nodding your head and smiling you let out a weak okay and he kissed your lips. It's so tender and loving. You know you’re about to get a completely different Jaeyun in two seconds.

He squeezes your cheeks with his middle finger and thumb to get your mouth to open. His dick is red and frustrated, multiple veins protruding around the shaft. You’re starving for it. Placing his cock in your mouth you take him all in. 

Slowly thrusting you can see he is trying to be gentle so you meet his thrusts, sucking up and down. “My baby.” He breathlessly moans as he picks up the pace. His tip is battering against your throat and you love every second of it. You hum in pleasure around him as he pounds faster into your mouth. “Y/N you’re so fucking good to me, such a perfect girl. Always taking what I give you.” He moans and his thrusts become erratic, and sloppy as he gets closer to his high,

His grip is tighter on your hair and he yanks you off before he comes.

“Jaeyun what’s wrong?” Your voice is hoarse and it drives him crazy.

“I need to come inside you, Princess. You can call it another birthday present.” He kisses you and lifts you up with ease, his mouth never leaving yours. “Such a pretty dress,” he states as he lays you down on the bed, “As soon as I saw you in it I knew I had to fuck you while you wear it.” Jaeyun hikes up the dress so it sits above your hips, exposing your red underwear, his favourite. “All for me, yeah?” His fingers lightly graze your slit over the lace. 

“Everything is for you.” The loving confession makes his heart swell in his chest. He needs you so bad, and you know it. “Just fuck me Jaeyun.” Your eyes land on his cautious ones. He hasn’t prepped you yet, it’s already a struggle to make him fit when he’s stretched you open. “I can’t wait for your cock any longer.” Frustration is laced within your voice and your body is writhing for some attention.

Jaeyun takes a condom from his stash and slides it on. His sensitive tip colliding with the rubber makes him wince. He looks for lube but can’t find his usual tube. You look at him searching and take the opportunity to shuffle down, grab his cock, and guide it to your entrance.The shock plastered on his face is quickly switched out with one of pure lust. “Princess can’t wait huh?” You eagerly shake your head as you push him in. The stretch isn’t painful due to how turned on you are. Genuine wonder starts to invade your brain as you think back to any other time you’ve been this desperate. You haven’t.

“You’re the death of me, Y/N.” He moans as he bottoms out. 

“I need you to fuck me so bad, baby.” And who was he to deny you? His thrusts are sharp and pierce right through you. “Right there, baby, so so good.” Your encouraging words spur him on and he goes at a faster pace.

“Tell me I’m the only one.” He mutters as he kisses your neck. He was still feeling a little self-conscious after the whole Sunghoon incident. To think that you could be taken away by someone else makes his heartbreak, he needs the reassurance.

Bringing his head up and cupping his cheek you stare lovingly into his eyes, “You’ll always be the only one. I don’t want anyone else. I need you.” 

Jaeyun practically growls as he picks up the pace again. You’re trying not to moan loudly but he’s hitting all the right spots and it’s got you gasping. His hands are roaming your body, gripping and grasping at every part of you, the action will leave bruises and he’ll apologise in the morning but right now he just needs to feel you.

“Even if Sunghoon wanted you?” he asks quietly and you shake your head immediately. Never for a second would you even spare any time of day for the other, not when you had Jaeyun. You were going to have serious words with yourself once you’re done. You made Jaeyun feel insecure, you’re the reason he’s doubting himself like this.  

“He could never love me the way you do,” you bring your lips to his ear, “and he certainly couldn’t fuck me the way you do.” 

Pure fire and passion rise through Jaeyun’s body. His thrusts go harder and faster, he places your legs on his shoulders and drives in deeper. “You take me so well, Princess. I love you so much.” Jaeyun might have been fucking you like he was a man possessed but his kind and nurturing personality will always come through.

He was perfect.

You clench around him, “Jaeyun, babe, I’m so close.” Your nails are digging into his arms. 

“Me too, Baby.” he kisses you gently, “Come around my cock, show me how good I make you feel.” Jaeyun might be the sweetest man alive but he is still a man after all, always trying to get you to boost his ego. And you come around his cock hard, your chanting his name mixed with a few ‘fucks’ and ‘oh gods’ in there. 

Not letting up, Jaeyun is still pounding into you, “Good girl.” he mumbles into a kiss. It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling into the condom. “Fuck, Y/N.” His moans are loud and desperate as his hips still. “Fuck, Princess. So good.” He lazily kisses down your neck whispering sweet ‘I love yous’ and ‘You’re so perfect’. He wanted to revel in the moment, his cock was softening in your walls as his lips graze every inch of your skin. 

“I love you, Jaeyun.” He looks up at you with his big puppy eyes and all you can see is love held within them. You could cry. This is the man you’re going to spend the rest of your life with. You know it.

“I love you too, angel. So fucking much,” He kisses you deeply, “Let's never fight again.” Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you nod and continue to kiss him. “You’re it for me, Y/N.”

“Sim Jaeyun if you have a girl in here-” His dad barges in, ruining the moment between the both of you. Jaeyun jumps up and covers himself and you with a blanket. Mortified doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel. “Y/N? Is that you?” his dad questions trying to see your face which is hidden behind Jaeyun’s blanket.

“Hi, Mr.Sim” Your head pops up and shyly wave a hand. “How’s it going?” 

“Dad can you like, leave, please.” Jaeyun wants the world to swallow him whole. He has always been so careful not to get caught. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell his parents it was just that they would never let you stay over again if they knew he was fucking your brains out every time you stayed over. 

Mr. Sim runs a hand down his face and squeezes his eyes shut before wagging a finger between you and Jaeyun, “How long have you…how long has this been going on?”

“About two years.” Jaeyun shrugs and mumbles. He wasn’t going to say your 2 year anniversary was a pebble throwaway, he didn’t need specifics. “We’ve been dating for 2 years.”

“2 YEARS?” Mr. Sim’s eyes widened and his mouth slacked open. “2 years and you haven’t told us? You know we would never stop you from dating someone.” he scoffs, “2 fucking years and you didn’t tell us.” 

Your head is hanging low, Jaeyun notices your discomfort, he always does, and he reaches for your hand under the blanket and gives it a squeeze.

“Dad we didn’t mean to keep it a secret from you or mum. I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Mr. Sim.” You squeak out. 

“Don’t,” Jaeyun’s dad starts, “Don’t keep things like this from me again.” A smile crawls onto his face, “especially if it’s Y/N. You know she’s like the daughter I always wanted.” His eyes soften as he looks at you. 

You were so close to Jaeyun’s family after spending 3 years living between his house and yours. His parents knew your favourite foods, what made you tick, and how to cheer you up, they even invite you over on Christmas Eve for a pre-Christmas celebration. His family loved you, you were never scared of receiving their approval, deep down you knew you always had it. “Get some sleep. I’ll talk to your mum. And Y/N?” Your head shoots up, “Please tell your parents. I’m sure they’ll take it well.” He nods his head and leaves to go back to bed. 

Jaeyun turns to you and a roar of laughter erupts from him making you playfully smack his chest. “That was so embarrassing.” He wheezes. 

“I am never coming back here again.” You hide under his blanket, giggling. 

You spend the rest of the night cuddling Jaeyun, feeling complete bliss. When you woke up the next morning you received a text from your mum.

Mrs. Sim told me. Jake is NEVER allowed to sleep over again, do you hear me?

I’m happy for you both.

You smile and snuggle deeper into Jaeyun’s embrace. The sun lights up the room, landing perfectly on your boyfriend's face.

________

As your high school life was reaching its end you found yourself searching through college brochures and websites trying to find anything that sparked your interest. That was your problem, you weren’t interested in anything, not anything that you could make a career out of anyway. Jaeyun was what you were interested in if you had to be frank but considering he’s a broke almost 19-year-old you couldn’t exactly become his trophy wife, but god did you wish life was that easy sometimes? 

Jaeyun had applied for Apollo College situated in Busan. His dream was to become a mathematical physicist which has been his dream since he was like 10 years old. Honestly, his dedication and passion for the subject made you fall in love with him even more every time the boy would get so hyped when he spoke to you about it. Fair enough you found the subject so boring but something about the way he spoke about quantum theory or one of those old dudes that are plastered on his physics textbook made the subject come to life. He worked immensely hard to even get the grades to get into Apollo, and you couldn’t be more proud.

“What about applying for Apollo? They do some ND-level courses?” Jaeyun says as he scrolls through his phone. He has been trying to help you pick a college for over an hour in his bedroom. You both agreed Busan or somewhere close would be the best option since you both couldn’t imagine doing long distance. ‘It wouldn’t work, I would miss you too much.’ Jaeyun has pleaded when you were entertaining the idea of looking at some in Seoul.

“Babe I am not applying for a smarty pants college.” You laugh and reach for his face taking his glasses from his face. “Although,” You place the glasses on the bridge of your nose, “I would look good as a woman in STEM.” A smile creeps on your face as you seductively look over the frames of the glasses and see Jaeyun bite his lip. Never once has he uttered it out loud but he does have a thing for you in glasses, a fantasy of dressed in only them as he fucks you until they’re steaming up slithers into his mind more times than not.

“My girl looks good all the time, but STEM would make me want to wife you up right then and there.” Placing his phone down beside him he leans over until his face is mear centimeters from yours. 

You know what he was looking for, that face of lust painted so obviously and god did you want to give into him, he’s irresistible. But it had to wait and you unsubtly let him know by placing your pointer finger on the middle of his forehead and push him back. “Jaeyun, this is serious,” you say pouting looking back down to the laptop in front of you, “I need to find a college or else I’m gonna be stuck here in my parents’ house forever, and only see you like once a month or something.”

“Y/N, you’ll find something in Busan okay? And if not I’ll look somewhere else. My grades are good enough to get in anywhere.” It's a subtle brag but you know he’s right, he might be the smartest person you know in all fairness but that doesn’t mean he can just give up his dream school that he’s spent countless sleepless nights studying to get into. His effort to get into this school more than proved that him not going sounded like the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“I am not letting you drop your dream college because I’m too thick to even get into one measly college. It’s your dream I’m not letting you ruin your chances.” You half-joke before Jaeyun speaks up again. 

“You’re my dream, Y/N. I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go. I’d give up anything for you, you know that.” His serious expression makes you a little uncomfortable. Hearing him say he’d throw his aspirations for you hurt your heart and you didn’t know why. Maybe because you spent your relationship with him watching him work hard for opportunities to enhance his future and in a millisecond he would give it all up, and for someone like you? It seemed ludicrous.

“Jaeyun don’t say that,” discarding your laptop and shuffling towards him you put your hands on his shoulders and squeezed tightly, “I didn’t watch you need an IV drip from studying so hard just for you to throw it away.”

“I might not get in.” And you laugh, your hands loosening from his shoulders to cup his neck.

“You’re a shoe-in, baby.” A smile forms on Jaeyun’s lips at your encouragement. You always wondered why your boyfriend had such a hard time believing in his own abilities, if it was possible you wish he could see himself through your eyes, maybe then he’d understand how truly remarkable he is. “I’ll find a college, don’t worry.” Bopping his nose with yours you take the glasses off your face and place them on his nose. “Let's look at Yangsan-Si, it’s only 30 minutes away from Apollo. I think they have that independent college.”

Looking up at your laptop you feel Jaeyun’s puppy dog eyes on you and you turn around to see him still in the same position, “Babe? You okay?”

“I mean it, Y/N. Anything you want, I’ll do it. If colleges in Busan don’t work I’ll find somewhere else. Take up an apprenticeship or whatever.” 

“Jaeyun, it’ll be fine!” You try to lighten up the atmosphere but his face is stern and his body is tense. “What are you so scared of?” your voice is shallower than usual trying to read him but it seems impossible. 

“I don’t want you to leave me, and that’s what long-distance means right? We’ll keep up talking the first few weeks, then we’ll be too busy to talk every day so we Facetime for what? 30 minutes every weekend, then we just stop talking altogether and turn to texting because it’s easier. You’ll find someone less clingy, more handsome, he’ll be there to give you attention and we’ll break up. I can’t watch that happen.” 

Smiling sadly you try to hide the burning feeling in your chest as you watch Jaeyun’s mind scramble and come up with this whole plot point you didn’t even think was an option. Does he think about you both not working out often? You etch forward and take his hands. “Jaeyun,” you say waiting for him to look at you before you continue, his watery eyes slowly look up, “I will find a college near Busan. I will be right beside you for as long as you want me. And we will never break up okay? You don’t have to worry about it.”

Deep down you felt his concerns too. And with him saying all this, talking about how long distance wouldn’t work, it made you start to overthink with what ifs. But right now you had to convince Jaeyun everything would be fine, convincing yourself in the process. 

His nod lets you breathe a sigh of relief and kiss him lightly on his plumped lips. “I love you so much.” His words make you smile and kiss him a little longer this time.

“I love you too. Now come on and help me get into college. I need that big sexy brain of yours.” Jaeyun’s heaved-out laugh hits your ears and you both spend the night applying for random schools, easing his mind a little.

________

Rejection. Rejection. Rejection.

Opening the next email you sigh, another rejection, your 7th to be exact. It had been two months since you applied for colleges in Jaeyun’s bedroom and time was ticking. You had 5 weeks to get accepted at the earliest, thats when Jaeyun was set to move to Busan, when you were moving with him.

You could never forget the day he got the acceptance letter to Apollo. There was a rapid chap at your door causing your dad to whip the door open angrily, “Who the fuc- Oh, Jake. What’s the big rush?” Your dad calmed down as he saw Jaeyun and his cheesy grin on the other side of your front door.

“Is Y/N here? I need to see her.” His eyes shifted to the upstairs where he hoped you’d be.

“Go on up.” Your dad's head flicks back in the direction of your room. Without a second passing, Jaeyun is taking his shoes off and running up the stairs, missing a step each time. “Who is it?” your mum says to your dad as he laughs. “I think Jaeyun got into college.” Your parents were so proud. Jaeyun had opened your door in a flash and saw you at your desk studying for exams. He examined you; your hair tousled, baggy sweatpants, and the old football jersey he gave you after he won his first game of high school. “Beautiful,” he muttered loud enough to gain your attention.

“Jaeyun? What are you doing here? I thought I was meeting you later?” He strides over and extends his arms sharply, holding an envelope in his hands. The action made him look so young and innocent, like a toddler proudly handing their mum a drawing they did in the nursery. Gingerly you take the already torn envelope and withdraw a letter.

“Dear Mr. Sim,” you read out loud, “We have received an overwhelming amount of applications for the Mathematical Physics BSc Honours program. We are delighted to offer you a place…” You trail off, “Jaeyun, you got in?” Re-reading the letter you squeal and jump up to hug him, “This is amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you!” You exclaim. Genuine happiness is felt between the both of you and Jaeyun’s grip tightens around you. “You fucking did it.” You whisper as he pulls away. His face is brighter than you had ever seen, his future coming together like perfectly matched pieces in a puzzle. You envied him a lot in that moment.

Snapping out of your memory you mutter a ‘fuck’ as you lock your phone and make your way to class. Apparently, you weren’t good enough for Busan, or Yangsan-Si, or Gimhae. Nowhere wanted you. The prospect of not getting into college suddenly weighed down heavily on your shoulders. You had picked courses about things you enjoyed through school, or rather, got decent enough grades in but it wasn’t enough. There were two colleges left that you are impatiently awaiting replies from. One a mere 20 minutes away from Jaeyun and one 4 hours away on the outskirts of Pyeongchang. Obviously, you neglected to mention this choice but it was apparently the easiest one to get into and you didn’t really think every single other choice would reject you having confidence at least one would offer a conditional place. 

There is only one chance. 

Walking somberly into class you see Jaeyun wave you over, his chair turned from his desk to face his friends beside him. “Baby come here!” He shouts over to you gaining attention from the other people in your class. The thing about Jaeyun is that he wasn’t quiet about anything, especially your relationship to many of the girls in your class’ dismay. 

Smiling at him widely, your once dampened mood is now gone. He had a habit of being able to do that. You go to take the seat next to his friend Jay but before you can pull out the seat Jaeyun is pulling you onto his lap and circling his arms around your waist to situate you in a comfortable position. 

“You guys are disgusting.” Jay groaned but Jaeyun paid no mind to him, kissing the back of your shoulder and smiling, giddy at intimacy.

“It's a good thing you guys are going to college together, think my man here might die if he isn’t with you for more than 3 minutes.” Kai chimes in jokingly, slapping Jaeyun’s right shoulder lightly nearly hitting you in the process. That sinking feeling in your chest slowly bubbles its way back up. 

There is only one chance..

“Yeah, he wouldn’t last a day if you were long-distance.” Jay continued on to Heeseung’s statement.

There is only one chance. 

“As much as I love you all saying my relationship grosses you out,” You start to stand up and remove Jaeyun’s hands, “I need to pee before class starts.” Hiding your discomfort from the conversation you press your lips to Jaeyun’s, “I’ll be back in a minute.” His hand trails down your arm and squeezes your hand.

Quickly you walk out of class and head to the bathroom to compose yourself. It’s not that you don’t think long distance could work for you, it's that you know long distance won’t work for him. All the previous conversations swirled in your head mixed with your doubts. 

A ping echoes in the empty bathroom and scramble to unlock your phone. You view the notification as it reads Mail: Offer Update: Kyungsung University. Your heart is in your throat as you read the outcome.

Rejection.

There is no more chances. Shit. You’re gonna lose him. The mirror before you shows the shell of a girl who just lost everything she loves in the space of a minute. Eyes red, lips trembling, a sob escaping your throat, you were crushed. I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go. I’d give up anything for you. Those were his words a few months ago with the weight of his intent still heavy. He would give it all up for you and that was a hard burden to live with. 

Another ping comes from your phone and you squeeze your eyes shut to get rid of the tears that blurred your vision. Mail: Offer Update: Avanti College.

Your eyes widen quickly opening the email.

Dear Miss L/N,

We have received your application. With much consideration, we would be delighted to offer you a place at Avanti College for the studies of Film and Media. As you would be aware our school terms start earlier than others, thus, we have sent you a link to our module assigning system for you to quickly choose your classes. These are filling up and you should confirm these as soon as possible.

We look forward to seeing you next month.

Yours Sincerely,

Mr. Suh Kyung Min

Head of Recruitment. 

You smile brightly as you read the email over and over again. You got in. Granted, film studies was the only course at this college with spaces left, but if you weren’t thinking about that, you could learn to love it. It was also 4 hours away from Busan. 4 hours away from the love of your life. Your shoulders sink down and the smiles fades from your face. 

You had two choices; tell him you didn’t get into college and have him drop out of his dream university, ruin his future, all for you, or, don’t tell him and go to college, leave Jaeyun without an explanation so he doesn’t destroy everything he’s worked for. That would mean leaving your family and friends behind too because they would cave in and tell Jaeyun where you went. If you just left without a trace he would have no choice but to go and live his future the way he was supposed to. 

The second option feels right. There is no way you are going to be the one to leave Jaeyun’s future desolate, you couldn’t offer him a future better than the one he had already set out for him. So you just won’t tell him. Did his happiness and future mean more to you than your own? Absolutely. And fuck did that stab you in the heart. 

Looking back in the mirror your eyes are drooping, depressed, void of any happiness you register now you have another choice; make this the best few weeks with Jaeyun, or slowly break away to make the situation easier on you both. Deep down you knew even if you stayed away during this period he would find a way to see you, so you accepted it, giving your undivided attention to him just as you have all these years. Give him all the love you have.

3 weeks. You have 3 weeks before you’re away to live a completely new life. You have to remind yourself why you’re doing this, why you’re hurting yourself by leaving your only love. It was for him, all of it. 

_______

Two weeks until you leave for Pyeongchang and you’ve gotten good at concealing any hurt you feel. Jaeyun kept asking if you heard anything from colleges but you just shrugged and changed the topic. He was getting suspicious but you just kept reassuring him there was still a month left and most of the colleges you applied for were clearance so they tend to do it last minute. 

With exams over and school finally ending the only logical solution was for your year to host a party. A BIG party. Now you all could legally drink it just meant more alcohol being brought and because the chances of you seeing any of these people again is practically zero, you really wanted to let your hair down. You spent most of these days in worry and dread that you didn’t just want to get wasted, you needed it. 

Ryujin and Yeji were on their way to pick you and Jaeyun up from his house - Yeji got stuck on DD duty after losing rock, paper, scissors and she won’t shut up about how unfair it is. Jaeyun was already dressed in his blue double denim outfit accessorised with a graphic white t-shirt, some old silver chains hanging from his black D&G belt, rings that you’ve felt on your throat more than once displayed on his fingers and a pearl necklace he got as a gift from Heeseung. His hair was bouncy and parted the way he liked it, with his forehead showing. Jaeyun was the most gorgeous boy you had ever seen and every day you noticed something different. Walking out of your bathroom you notice how his shoulders have gotten slightly broader.

“Have you been going to the gym?” You question nonchalantly as you fix your earrings, staring at him while he scrolls through his phone. He shrugs and continues with his eyes fixated on the phone. You huff, waiting for your boyfriend to notice you and the clear effort you made in your outfit. The gold two-piece you bought left little to the imagination and you felt so powerful and sexy in it. 

Dragging your tongue over your front teeth you walk behind him and rub your delicate hands on his shoulders. “You’ve gotten bigger, width-wise.” You flirt.

“Dunno must be all the extra lifting at work. Shits heavy.” He mumbles, liking pictures on Instagram as if you aren’t there. Usually, you would be offended but you learned that sometimes Jaeyun is just a little dense when it comes to attention. So you take matters into your own hands.

One of your hands never leaves his shoulder as you circle to his front, one leg hiking over so you can straddle his lap, head tilted as you wait for him to look at you. Finally, but not nearly as quickly as you want, he looks at you, his mouth open as his eyes trail up and down your body, absentmindedly locking his phone and throwing it not caring where it landed. “Fuck.”

You nod and smile coyly, biting your lip. “Do I look good?” Your fingers dance up his chest and wrap around his neck as you shift your weight slightly until you’re sitting right on his clothed dick. 

“Shit, Princess you look fucking ethereal,” Jaeyun says as his hands rub your arms until they find their way to your waist, “Do we have to go? I don’t want anyone else to see you like this.” He laughs and kisses your lips, his eyes looking up at you with adoration.

“Yes!” you exclaim, “I wanna get drunk and dance.” You shuffle off his lap and pull his hand so he’s standing. Instinctively, his arms circle around your waist. “Plus you get to tell everyone this,” you point to yourself, “is all yours.” Your boyfriend's eyes roll but he bites his lip, probably the sexiest habit he does. 

“Baby don’t tempt me, I’ll go into that party and put on a show so they know who you belong to,” You moan as his hands grab your ass, and his eyebrow quirks. “Oh? Do you like that idea? So I should just bend you over in the middle of it and fu-” Swiftly you clamp a hand over his mouth and laugh.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re so horny all the time.” He shrugs again and takes your hand that’s placed over his mouth, kissing your palm before he intertwines your fingers with his. “We better head down and say goodbye to your parents.” Sauntering away he pulls you back and kisses you deeply taking your breath away. 

Jaeyun groans as he tastes your cherry lip oil, the same taste he’s had the pleasure of devouring for 3 years. Desperately his hand grabs your waist and pulls you closer. He can’t get enough of you and honestly, he doesn’t think he ever will.

“Jaeyun,” you whisper against his lips but he simply keeps kissing you, his tongue invading your mouth when you speak only making him crave you more. “Baby, we need to go,”

“No,” He whines and picks you up, your legs wrapped around his waist, “can’t wait to punch guys in the face for looking at you too long.” his voice whispers in between kisses and you throw your head back laughing. 

As your actions expose your neck he places kisses all over, focusing on a spot just above your freckle, a gasp escapes your lip. Jaeyun is sucking and biting at the spot and you realise what he’s doing and your eyes fly open, “Jaeyun!” you warn him but he keeps going and it feels too good to stop.

Pulling away he examines his work and smirks. A hickey. A big red soon to be deep black and purple hickey starts to appear on the base of your neck. “There.” He kisses it once and then proceeds to look in your eyes innocently. “Everyone will know you’re mine.”

Rushing to the mirror you see the red mark and sigh, half annoyed half amused. “What are you? 13?” A rumbled laugh comes from behind you. 

“Just possessive. Can’t have another Sunghoon situation now can I.” Jaeyun jokes but it makes you wince. You try to forget that birthday night as much as possible. “I can’t lose you. Not for anything.” His sweet words turn over in the acid of your stomach. You think about what you’re going to do just two weeks from now and you feel sick. You have to tell him, but you can’t. This is what’s best.

Putting on a facade you smile and kiss him on the cheek and walk by him. “That won’t happen, babe.” 

A honk from outside diverts both of your attention and you scurry downstairs, eagerly awaiting the party that lies ahead. 

Arriving at the party it’s already in full swing, classes from all over the city have come to celebrate the end of an era. Looking around at the dim lights, strobe effects, and some people making out in the corner you wonder if you were actually in a club rather than someone’s house.

“Who’s house is this?” You ask no one but Yeji turns around. “Kobayashi Daigo. Was in your class for like 2 years.” She laughs and shakes her head. In her mind, she knew she shouldn’t be surprised you don’t know him considering you only ever spoke to Jaeyun or your friends.

“I’ll get you a drink, baby, come on.” Jaeyun whispers lowly and guides you towards the kitchen, his hands on either side of your hips. There was something about his big hands on your waist that made your whole being melt and just follow anything he said. 

When you get to the kitchen you see a bottle of Tequila Rose with your name on it and as you pick it up there is a strong hand taking it from you. “Princess, you want a double?” Jaeyun takes the bottle and starts to pour his own and eyes you as he awaits your answer. 

“Double.” You smile mischievously as you watch the liquid pour into the glass. The pink drink is brimming to the top of a tall shot glass as you lift it to your lips, your eyes never leaving Jaeyuns’. “Cheers.”

“Cheers, baby girl.” He slams the shot on the worktop and then downs it, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he swallows the soft shot. You can’t take your eyes off him as you swallow your drink.

“You’re so hot.” You murmur still looking into his eyes and he chuckles at your statement, pouring another shot.

“To us, to Busan, to forever.” He cheers and takes the shot of happiness, while you chug the shot down and it suddenly tastes bitter. You need about 15 of them to forget the man in front of you is the one you’re leaving. 

Suddenly it’s 3 hours later and you’re drunk, still aware, but are one drink away from hanxiety the next day. “Love, dance with me.” Jaeyun licks your ear and leads you to the middle of the living room which serves tonight as a dance floor. Pressing your body against his you start to dance to whatever pop song seems to be playing in the background, your hips swaying against him, your arse pressed to his groin and one hand reaching to the back of his head, the feeling of pure bliss overtaking you. 

You can feel his cock growing hard beneath you as you grind into him. You look up to him but his eyes are fixated on someone else at the other end of the room. Sunghoon. Internally you cringe thinking about what happened last time, and honestly, the black-haired boy has been nothing but respectful towards you after your birthday, but that doesn’t mean Jaeyun doesn’t feel his shoulders go rigid as he sees the attractive guy’s stare burn into you. Sunghoon's crush on you never left and Jaeyun was all too aware. He had to show Sunghoon you were his girl, so, Jaeyun’s hand slid down the front of you, his middle and forefinger dancing over your skin. “Jaeyun, what are you doing?”

No answer. But as his eyes fixate on the boys across from you, he smirks and slinks his fingers up your skirt, bypassing your underwear. A gasp suddenly leaves your lips as his fingertips ghost over your clit. “Jae…there are people around, let's go somewhere- '' A hard press to your core stops your sentence and you lose all sense of yourself, Jaeyun’s thumb now rubbing your nub. The music surrounding you is suddenly muted, and the air is too hot as two of his fingers invade your entrance hitting the spot that has your legs shaking. Jaeyun smirks as you try to hold your groan in, his eyes on a furious Sunghoon. It had been over a year but Jaeyun still liked to rub it into dear Sunghoon that he got the girl. “I’m serious, Jaeyun.” you whisper but his fingers only increase the pace, kissing your neck softly, tracing over his previous mark on occasion.

“You want me to stop, baby?” His voice is hoarse and mocking, and all you can let out is a moan, tossing your head back onto his shoulder, not caring if the whole party sees him touching you. His fingers move faster and with more urgency as he feels you clench around him. “Good girl.” thankfully the lights were so low and everyone was beyond obliterated due to the overconsumption of alcohol that no one was noticing, well, everyone but Sunghoon. “Come for me, Princess, show them it’s me that makes you feel this good.” His lips trace your ear as he picks up the pace, eager to get you off. His eyes are not leaving Sunghoons’. Your high comes crashing over you as his fingers hit your sweet spot and thumb traces your clit harshly, it takes every part of you not to moan like a common porn star. Sunghoon awkwardly coughs at the sight and turns away embarrassed and absolutely livid. 

You however are riding out your climax on your boyfriend’s fingers. “Fuck, Jaeyun.” you breathe out and he chuckles behind your ear, turning you around to face him.

“Good?”

“Fantastic.” You laugh until he sticks his fingers into your mouth, letting you taste your own release and you whimper, lapping his digits with your tongue. “So beautiful.” He whispers watching you.

This party was exactly what you needed.

________

Two days until you leave. There is an aching in your chest as you attend your job for the last time. It was a shitty convenience store job but you loved it deep down. The regulars, your boss, the people you worked with. You won’t miss the bright blue uniform though. You remember the day you told Jaeyun you got the job and he acted like you became the CEO of some high-end company. ‘My beautiful hard-working girl, I can’t even begin to describe the pride in my heart’ the memory of him picking you up and kissing you all over floods every inch of your body. The way he kissed you and the way his eyes sparkled as they bore into yours, that grin that was plastered on his face as he suggested congratulatory sex - he would use any excuse.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Jaeyun comes behind you wrapping his arms around you and his lips kissing your neck softly. You sink into him, his usual citrus with a woody undertone engulfs your senses. Biting your lip you try not to get caught up in this feeling. “Miss me?”

“Jaeyun I’m working,” Turning around you look into his big, shimmering eyes and suddenly regret everything you’ve been doing. To him, to yourself. He simply smiles and kisses you lovingly, one long everlasting kiss followed by small pecks, feeling his smile with each one. 

“You get off soon, just bail.” His plump pink lips trail down your jaw and land back on your neck. It's hard not to give in to him. 

“Baby, let me finish.” You pout and try to focus on stacking the shelves of the local mart. 

Jaeyun’s hands grip your hips harder leaning in to whisper in your ear, “I can make you finish if you want.” His teeth nip at your earlobe and you feel his smirk appearing. This boy will be the death of you. Jaeyun revels in the effect he has on you as he can almost hear your heart beating through your chest. He thinks only soulmates can notice minute things like that.

“I will attend to your every need when my shift is over, but for the next 20 minutes these cans of butter beans have my full attention.” He laughs and kisses you. 

“Butter beans…I love it when you talk dirty.” You slap his chest lightly and laugh. You’ll miss this. Maybe you should just tell him, to change your plans. You could find work in Busan surely. One look at him and you’d drop everything for him, hell, you were even planning to skip the end of your shift just so he could fuck you in his car. You needed him. That was the problem. You needed him, relied on him. 

Pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind you smile up at your puppy boyfriend and wrap your arms around his neck, “Sim Jaeyun you are the most infuriating person I have ever met.” 

The sun creeps in the shop windows and lights up his face as he smiles and pecks your lips. 

“You love me though.” He declares proudly, his teeth showing as he beams widely. 

“So much.” Too much. 

“Good, then hurry up and get this shift out the way so I can have you all to myself.” With that he kisses you, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. Jaeyun finds you irresistable whenever he sees you and his heart bursts with pride that you are his. “I have a surprise for you.” His eyebrows raise cheekily as he bites his lip and he leaves the store in a hurry. He goes to double-check he has everything he needs.

While you were at work you had no idea Jaeyun was planning anything. 

Jaeyun phones Heeseung to check in and make sure everything is set up. Heesung doesn’t appreciate the interrogation considering the plan was actually his idea but he lets his best friend away with it considering this was a big deal for him.

“Yes Jake everything is set up, i followed your strict to-the-point plan exactly as.” Heeseung rolled his eyes affectionately over the phone. He loved Jaeyun so much, being the only one of his friends that left for college early was hard, but he came back when he could and he would be damned if he missed this.

“Thanks, mate. I owe you one. And the r-”

“In the glove compartment. I told you, everything is sorted.” Jaeyun exhales and checks the glove compartment to see the white box. It's prettily decorated in a pink bow with the edges dusted in silver glitter, “She’ll love it. You know she loves everything if it's got something to do with you.” Heeseung’s voice blares through the phone with endearment.

If there was one supporter of you and Jaeyun it was Heeseung. Every day he had to hear about you through Jaeyun, he felt like he was part of the relationship with you. He had to sit through Jaeyun describing every outfit you wore, every time you changed your perfume, and every new song you recommended because it reminded you of him, Heeseung has been through it all. "Jake, stop overthinking it, you guys are meant to be and if it doesn't then I don't believe in love" he laughs through the phone and Jaeyun joins him. It isn't a question in his mind if you're going to be with him forever, it's a fact.

"Shit, she's coming. Thanks again, mate." Jaeyun hangs up quickly, hiding the box in the pocket of his car door. You've changed into your usual jeans and t-shirt and to Jaeyun you look like the most beautiful being to ever roam the earth. "Hey, my love." 

"I wish you would have told me we were doing something, I would have brought nicer clothes with me." 

"You say that like aphrodite doesn't worship the ground you walk on even in jeans." Jaeyun passes off the comment nonchalantly but your heart flips within your chest. He had a way with words that no late teen should have the possession to have. Beautiful and gorgeous weren’t good enough adjectives for him to describe you, he always had to go a step further because to him you were worth more than compliments that are used on pets and under celebrities' Instagram posts. Even if he couldn’t fathom the right words to describe you he was still going to try his hardest to make you feel like the most exquisite human in the world.

As you buckle your seatbelt, face still flushed, you hear Jaeyun fiddling with the music. His car was a shitty little black 1998 honda civic he got for pennies from an uncle looking to make a quick quid. It was so old it didn’t have an aux but rather was graced with a cassette player. Jaeyun didn’t mind because it meant he could make cute mixtapes like in the old 2000s movies. One he even made for your road trip you took during Christmas break filled with all the songs that reminded him of you, most of them being love songs with the one accidental Hotel Room Service by Pitbull in there because he couldn’t figure out how to get it off. It soon became your song. 

“I think I’ve made the best mixtape of all time,” Jaeyun gloats as he wags the cassette tape between his fingers before slotting it in, “you will love it.” Jaeyun spent the good part of yesterday perfecting each song that went on it and always with you in mind. The first song that blared was ‘Love is All Around’ by Wetter. 

“My favourite song.” you mutter and look at him adoringly, noticing the smile creep onto his face clearly proud of himself. His hand clasps yours as he brings it to his lips and kisses it gently. 

“It’s slowly becoming my favourite too.” He turns to face you with love glazed over his eyes. You could cry right there. No one will ever love you as much as Jaeyun does. “You know they’re playing a show in Busan in the fall. If you want I’ll grab us tickets since we’ll be up there anyway.” His head turns to pay attention to the road, his hands not leaving yours as he moves the gear stick. Sickness submerges you and the colour rushes from your face. God, why are you doing this? This is so silly just tell him.

“Jaeyun I-”

“I’ll buy the tickets next pay. They’ve had tickets sat there for a while so I don’t think they’ll sell out within the two weeks.” He interrupts and in a way you’re thankful. Swallowing the lump in your throat you thank him and turn to look out the window, your hand still snug in his. Jaeyun notices how you’ve clammed up but he leaves it for now. He knows when to ask you if anything is wrong and it is not right now. 

The whole car journey takes about 32 minutes and Jaeyun held your hand and squeezed it intermittently for 31 of those minutes, that 1 other minute he used to take a few gulps of water. His mouth was dry from the anticipation, of going over everything he had planned in his head. It had to be perfect, you didn’t deserve anything less. 

“We’re here, Princess.” Jaeyun’s voice and the car coming to a stop pull you out of your thoughts and you smile softly at him. He puts a finger up indicating for you to wait as he gets out of the car and rushes round to your side to open the door, “Right this way.” One hand opened the door and the other elongated to point towards the grassy hill. Nothing was worse to you than walking up a hill but you’ll let it slide this once since your boyfriend has put so much effort into whatever this is.

Side-eyeing him you get out of the car trying not to fall which in your case happens far more often than you would like to admit, “Making me walk after a 6-hour shift should be criminal.” You say as a pout forms on your lips.

Jaeyun’s face however is beaming, “Ah see I knew you would complain about that,” He starts, “I’m going to carry you.” He kneels down in front of you with his back in your sight, “Hop on, baby.”

“You cannot be serious? Babe, you can’t possibly carry me up there.” His head turns and eyebrows furrowed as he stares at you with a look of confusion.

“Does my girlfriend not have any faith in her very strong and capable boyfriend?” One of his eyebrows raises as he scoffs seeing the look of disbelief written on your face. “Trust me,” he pats his back, “get on and have some faith in your man.” 

A genuine laugh erupts from you and you oblige with his instruction. Straddling his back you hook your legs around his waist as he hoists you up almost effortlessly, “Have you been working out?” you ask curiously. Lifting one arm and posing with it he says, “Babygirl I’ve been packing these guns since I was a kid, John Cena is jealous.” Placing your head on his shoulder you laugh and the sound fills his ears like music from angels. Jaeyun kisses your cheeks and points forward, “To the top!”

“To the top!” You mimic him and he goes forth. 

When you reach the top surprisingly with no stops, Jaeyun sets you down gently and you can see his arm veins popping from the tension of holding you up. They’re delicious and it’s the one thing you’ve never been able to get over about your boyfriend and he knows it. In school he’ll roll up his sleeves when he has the same class as you because he knows you’ll be staring, practically drooling over them. One time before coming over to yours he made sure they were protrusive, clenching and unclenching his fists and he was happy with the results of his endeavours, the night ending with you riding his fingers, gripping onto his arms desperate to feel his veins under your touch.

“Baby?” Jaeyun bends forward, his head tilted looking up at you, “you in there?” his hand waving in front of your face snaps you out of your memories as you smile and say a simple “Hmm?”

“I said ta-da!” He exclaims, hopping in his place and outstretching his arms. You follow his gesture and see fairy lights wrapped, or more so tangled, around two trees which illuminate the picnic blanket underneath, two baskets are situated on either side and a bouquet of flowers lies in the middle. You follow the trail of rose petals that lead up to the beautiful scene in front of you. No words can escape your mouth and Jaeyun starts to get nervous, rubbing the back of his neck and letting out a half laugh, half huff. “I know it’s cheesy and cliche but I remember you reading about it in one of your books and saying you loved the idea of a midnight picnic. I know it’s not midnight but-”

The touch of your lips on his cuts off his rambling explanation. Jaeyun’s hands settle upon your waist as he kisses you back sentimentally and with relief washing over his body. You liked it and that’s all that matters.

“Come on,” he pulls away and gives you his hand to take leading you up the petalled scattered path and you don’t take your eyes off him. Your heart is so full and it is breaking all at the same time, “I got you all your favourites; kimchi pancakes, tteokbokki,  some chicken and spinach samosas,” he continues listing everything he has prepared but you’re too infatuated by the boy who stand before you, his dark hair shorter than when you first met, the side parting of his bangs framing his matured face, those delectable lips that gave you so much pleasure over the years and whispers sweet nothings into your ears any chance he could. Your eyes travel down to his blue and white striped Ralf Lauren polo-necked jumper, he looked so beautiful, so unreal. He was yours, at least for now. 

“I love you, Jaeyun.” You blurt out not even meaning to, just pure raw emotion taking over your body. 

Jaeyun has heard you say it a thousand times but it doesn’t stop the hairs standing on his neck and the crimson flush kissing the tip of his cheeks. He noted the undertone was a little different this time, not like you didn’t mean it every time but that this confession was more purposeful than the others. He takes your hips into his hands and looks down at you. “I love you too, Y/N. So fucking much.” His heart swells so big he thinks it might rupture. The next kiss he gives you has you tearing up. It’s so amatory yet pure, he truly loves you and harbours deep feelings not even psychologists could explain, it was more than consummate love, it’s nothing that can be theorised and dissected. It's yours and it's his. And in 2 days you were giving it up. After pulling you down on the blanket Jaeyun starts to unpack the picnic baskets. The smell invades your nostrils and your mouth waters. Everything looks so good. 

Jaeyun notices the hearts in your eyes as you stare at the food. He has to thank Jay for cooking it all when he sees him next. His chopsticks pick up the tteokbokki and hover it in front of you, “Here, take a bite, baby girl.” and you wrap your mouth around the delectable food you know he didn’t make. Jaeyun couldn’t so much as cook a simple lasagne without burning it and setting off the fire alarm. Suddenly a laugh leaves your mouth and your boyfriend cocks his head, “What’s so funny?” Waving your hand dismissively in front of him. The image of him wafting a green and yellow dishtowel under the alarm to clear the smoke is imprinted in your brain. It was the first time he cooked for you, your 100-day anniversary dinner turned into his dad airing out the kitchen and giving a long lecture about how Jake needed life skills. “It’s nothing, I’m just happy.” you say honestly. You were so happy here with him.

He hums and you continue like this, eating and laughing under the twinkling lights. As the food diminishes his heartbeat gets louder, more rampant. The reason for this grand spectacle of a date finally showing its head. “Um, Y/N?” His voice is nervous and you put down your plate giving him your undivided attention. 

“Yeah?” Noticing the sweat start to collect on his forehead you start to get worried. Did he know? Was he about to confess that he knew your plan all along and he actually did all this to convince you to stay? Is he giving up everything for you? Or is it simply too warm on this May evening?

“Hoo okay so,” He starts and turns his whole body to face you, taking your smaller hands in his shaking ones. “I love you, so much, and uh, okay um,” Jaeyun had planned this whole speech with Heeseung playing you in the scenario, the elder threatening to put on a wig and some eyeliner, “I need to get into character!” he had proclaimed. 

Even after all this preparation he still wasn’t sure what to say to you, he forgot all his words as he looked at your golden hour-kissed face that was staring back at him. 

He inhales deeply and calms himself pushing out the air slowly. “I love you, and I have ever since that first day at school.” His eyes flicker down to the necklace he got you for your birthday and then meet your eyes once more, "you took the breath from my lungs and to be honest, every time I look at you I still forget how to breathe. I don't know if there is such a thing as soulmates or twin flames or even matches made in heaven but baby you're all of them to me. I curse the stars every night because they get admired for being so beautiful yet you're the brightest one in the universe, you're my sun, my moon, and all the stars. You deserve all the admiration they get and if I can spend the rest of my life looking at you and studying you like I'm some astronomer then I know I've lived my life well."

A pause, two hearts beating rapidly, enough love shared between you both it could probably initiate world peace. 

Jaeyun takes out the box from his pocket and gives it to you. His hands are shaking violently. "I want you to know I'm so serious about us, Y/N." Taking the box from his hands it's now your turn to shake. "Open it." he huffs out, head dizzy.

Peeling off the baby pink bow and lifting the lid you see two rings and two keys. The rings are small, and silver, and there is a mid-sized heart on it which contrasts the thin band. Glancing up Jaeyun scoots forward and takes the left ring out, "Before you freak out I'm not proposing," a half-hearted laugh leaves his mouth as he takes the ring between his thumb and his pointer finger, never taking his eyes off it, "This is my promise to you that from now until forever, I am yours. A pinky ring," he takes your left pinky and slides it on slowly, "until I can get you a wedding ring."

Tears are streaming down your face as you laugh at the adjusted lyrics he's managed to embed in his speech. The ring fits so perfectly on you. Jaeyun had them handmade and saved up every bit of his wages to get them. They were simple because at the end of the day, he's still only shy of 19 and hasn't exactly got cash streaming in but for you, it's more than enough. Enough to show his undying and devoted love to you. 

"And this," he picks up one of the keys, "is the key to our flat in Busan. I know we should be living in dorms but I struck a really good deal with a sweet landlady. Don't think I could go a day in this life without seeing you, and if we live together then I'll see you all the time." Jaeyun smiles sheepishly looking at the key as he places it in your now ring-cladded hand.

Don't think I could go a day in this life without seeing you.

The tears streaming down your face once ones of happiness are now overbearing with sadness. You were letting this almost too-perfect boy go, all for the fear of losing him in the long run. It didn't make sense but it was too late. Your mind made itself up. It was easier to leave him now and cut ties than watch him break away from you piece by piece. Surely that hurts more.

Fixing your gaze on the key you sob and Jaeyun starts to panic, "Baby listen if it’s all too fast we ca-" 

You forget how many times since you've been dating that you interrupt him just to kiss him but here you are for the nth time. You're cupping his neck as your thumbs situate themselves on his cheeks and he feels the cold ring against his skin, a small smile appearing. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders and massage them lightly. Jaeyun doesn’t beg for any reassurance because in his mind this is enough. Your kisses and touch are enough of a yes for him. 

Jaeyun suddenly picks you up and carries you back down to the car. “I need to make love to you so bad but it won't be in a car.” His voice is disappointed but you knew Jaeyun wasn’t a big fan of fucking in the car. You’ve done it twice before but to him it didn't give him the space he needed to 'do you right'.

The car journey is filled with silent but desperate touches. Jaeyun is speeding to his home recklessly, all he is thinking about is you. He glances at the pinky ring and smiles; you are his, and he is undoubtedly yours. 

As he parks in his garage and you both make your way up the stairs you feel him pawing at you desperately. Jaeyun pushes you into his room, his lips on yours messily and needing. 

“Princess,” He groans as he feels your hand press against his groin, “you’re dangerous.” 

You laugh, the last genuine one you’ll let out for a while you think. This will be your last time with Jaeyun, you decided on the way to his home.

His hands grab the collar of his t-shirt and yank it off in a smooth motion, leaving his bare chest in your eye line, the hickeys you gave him last week faded but still scattered. Quickly, he bends slightly, gripping your ass tightly and picking you, his lips all over your face. He lets a quiet ‘so beautiful’ escape his mouth. 

“Jaeyun, fuck I need you.” He nods into your neck, gently putting you on the bed, his chest not leaving yours as he feels up and down your body. 

“I know, Princess, you’re gonna be a good girl, and wait though, yeah?” The arrogance in his voice just turns you on more, declaring that you’re his good girl in a huffed-out moan that gets him out of his trousers in record time. The button of your jeans is undone and he tugs them and your underwear off, leaving you bare. “All mine.” he whispers to himself as he kisses up the inner of your left thigh, lingering longer the closer he gets to your center. 

It’s so wet, desperate for his touch it’s like it’s crying for him. “You’re so wet baby, don’t even think I need to prep you.” He presses a butterfly kiss to your clit teasingly and you rapidly shake your head.

“No, Yunie, please.” You slip out the nickname that only seems to come out when your brain is so fogged in want that you can’t even say his name in full. His breath hits your sensitive spot when he chuckles at how desperate you are. 

His hands crawl up to the top of your thighs to hold them down and open as he nibbles gently at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your hips push up, seeking his mouth where you need it most. Jaeyun presses soft warm kisses across your core before tracing his tongue slowly upwards. 

Your hands find their way to his hair, gripping harshly as you plead for more. Being the perfect boyfriend he is he complies, groaning softly as he feels your desperation in your fingers tugging his hair. “Tell me what you want, love. Tell me what you need.” His voice is low and husky, his tongue working you faster awaiting further instructions. 

“F-fingers. I want your fingers.” All sense of shame leaves your body every time he fucks you, not caring if you sound needy. 

His tongue slides over your clit, hearing your plea, then gently moves his right fourth and middle fingers up to your heat, circling your entrance. “These fingers?” His mocking tone causes you to groan in aggravation, just yearning for him to do it. He swiftly pushes them inside you, opening you up. He watches for your reactions to make sure it’s pleasant for you and by your open mouth and head thrown back, he’s okay to continue. They hook into you and move back and forth in a smooth and sensual rhythm, touching you the way you like it.

Feeling your walls contract he knows you’re close to the edge, “Gonna cum on my fingers baby? So soon?” He inserts another finger which only adds to the pleasure running through your veins, the stretch feels magical. 

You’re a moaning mess as he finds your sweet spot, thrusting harshly as he works it. “Let it all out, Princess. Show me how I’m making you feel.” His voice alone could send you tipping over, but it’s his tongue flicking your clit and sucking it that had you screaming his name loud enough for the whole house to hear. He doesn’t stop you, loving the sound of his name falling from your lips. “That’s it, angel, doing so good for me.” The three fingers continue inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm. 

Panting, you get up on your elbows and look down at him, his mouth glistening with your release. You stare at him a bit longer, mentally capturing the image and keeping it locked away for a day until you need it again. On a day he isn’t with you. Any day after tomorrow.

“You’re so hot when you cum like that. Like I’m the only one that can do that.” Jaeyun mumbles against your skin as he kisses from your thigh to your stomach. His mouth feels the vibration as you laugh and he looks up, puzzled.

“Jaeyun, you’re the only person I’ve had sex with, of course you’re the only one that can do that.” He looks down at your stomach and laughs with you. Before the next sentence makes you feel like you’re stomach is in knots.

“And I’ll always be the only one, until the day we die, you’re mine forever, Y/N.” It’s innocent on his part but you feel sick as his kisses return to your abdomen. He won't be the only one you touch and you won't be the only one to touch him. “You’re thinking about something,” He doesn’t look at you but lays kisses on your chest and neck until his eyes find yours, “Tell me.”

His iris’ bore into yours and you push down whatever thoughts you have, determined not to ruin your last night with him. “Just that I want you to fuck me.” The back of your hand strokes his cheek and a flip switches inside him that went from concern to lust. 

Grabbing a condom from your drawer he slips it on with earnestness. 

The head of his cock is suddenly at your pussy, sliding up and down. He slaps it a few times against your clit, his signature move and you can’t get enough of it. “Say please and I’ll think about it.” There he was, typical Jaeyun, but you knew he was just as needy as you were at this point.. As you let out a whispered ‘please’ he kisses you, his tip penetrating, “Good girl.”

A deep breath leaves him as your walls squeeze him. He’s slow and teasing, filling you up slowly at first until he can’t hold himself back and his thrusts become more urgent, determined to make you feel good. Your combined moans echo around the room as you both lose yourself in the moment of the intense act. 

Jaeyun’s left hand finds yours, clasping tightly as he fucks you hard. A loving smile plasters over his face when he looks down at your joined hands and feels your matching pinky rings sit next to each other, his love for you so evident, so pure, even in this lustful moment. His heart is filling with adoration for letting him be yours. Bringing your hand to his face he kisses your pinky tenderly. 

Your body is so overcome with love and emotion that you start to cry, crying over the love you have for him, the love you’ll lose. 

“Hey,” His voice a whisper as he stills in you, “Princess, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” The concern in his voice drifts through our ears and you move your head from side to side. 

“No baby,” He hasn’t hurt you, but you’re going to hurt him and it makes you cry harder. “I love you so much.” You sob and laugh knowing how ridiculous this looks on the surface. Jaeyun smiles adoringly at you, the hand that once held yours now wiping your tears away.

His lips kiss the apples of your cheeks to clean the last bit of wetness and sighs, “You had me worried, sweatheart.” He brushes your hair off your face and says, “I love you too. Till my last dying breath.” A sob leaves you again but Jaeyun’s soft thrusts bring you back. 

As his hips find the perfect rhythm again your worries leave you for the time being and focus on how good he is making you feel. “S-so good.” 

“Yeah?” The cocky face he has falls into a pleasured one as your cunt squeezes him tight, “Jesus fuck, Y/N, take me so well. Love you so much.” The way the raw emotion is pouring out of him you beg yourself to do something reckless.

“The c-condom.” You say breathlessly and he slows down, one of Jaeyun's eyes opens

 as he comes out of his aroused daze and mutters a ‘huh?’, “The condom, take it off.” His eyes shoot open and he stops again to your annoyance.

He re-adjusts himself, his hands placed at each side of your head. “I don’t think I heard you right.” Jaeyun was always cautious, always careful. Not once, despite his sometimes desperate need, has he ever fucked you without a condom. “You want me to fuck you without it?”

“I need to feel you.” His cock sits half in you making it easy when you slip off him, “I want to feel it all.” He leans in with his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged and his chest moving fast. “Please.”

Running a hand through his hair now perched on his knees above you he thinks about it. “You’re still taking the birth control?” He sees you nod and point to your desk where you keep all your medication. “Every day.”

He huffs and mutters, thinking about what consequences could come from this. 

“Fuck it.” 

You smile at him, grateful. If this was going to be the last time you had him, you needed to have him completely without barriers. He peels off the wet condom and throws it in the bin beside your desk before crawling forward back on top of you. “You sure?” Nodding you wait for him but he doesn’t move, “Use your words, Princess.” His hand holds your cheek as he awaits your verbal permission.

“I’m sure, Jaeyun. Fuck me.” It’s almost like the first time you had sex with him when you lost yourselves to each other, a new experience to share. Another first.

After your confirmation, he slowly enters you again and Jaeyun wishes he had done this sooner, feeling every bump of your walls cuddle his cock overwhelms him and he lets out a low groan, almost collapsing on top of you and cumming right there and then. 

You match his experience, feeling pleasure like never before. “Jaeyun…” You slip your hand down to circle your clit but he slaps it away, “Nu-uh, mine.” His possessive tone and his raw cock have you convulsing around him, two seconds from bliss. His middle finger rubs up side to side on your hard sensitive nub, exactly what you were going to do but better, and you cum for the second time, but this wave so hard that the breath is knocked from your lungs. 

Jaeyun doesn’t let up, feeling your raw pussy cumming around him only has him striving for release, the sooner the better. If he doesn’t cum soon he might get addicted and never let his dick have a rest. “That’s it, baby. So fucking beautiful when you cum on my dick like that.” His thrusts get sharper, more determined, and focused as his head falls back, “You’re so fucking perfect. Made for me, only me.” You cry out as he continues to rub your clit and pound into you, he’s overstimulating you but you don’t care, you need it. 

“Cum inside me baby, fill me up, please, please.” You grab his face and stare into his beautiful big eyes and he cums. So deep. So beautiful. You feel every drop coat your walls, giving you the feeling of utter bliss. His mewl is loud and his hips stutter inside you, continuing to spurt his seed like an ever-going fountain, he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop. 

“Fuck, Princess. Pussy is taking it so well.” Jaeyun’s kiss is welcomed on your lips as you smile, aware of the cum leaking past his cock inside you and onto the sheets. 

As you both regain composure and your eyes meet you both laugh loudly, his body weight falling on top of you. “You’re fucking incredible.” He kisses along your breasts for a while before easing his cock out of you, the sight of his white cum dripping from you almost makes him hard again. He is so pathetically in love with you, and this just made him wish the ring he gave you was an engagement one.

His hands reach out for yours as he stands up, “Come on, Princess, let me get you cleaned up.” You take his hand gladly but he abruptly lifts you bridal style and stares at you, “I’m so happy you’re mine.”

_____

The next morning you wake up with your boyfriend's naked body draped over you, his ring shining in the sunlight. This is it. You had one more day with him but after last night you couldn’t risk another second with him. Every inch of your body is saying your reasoning doesn’t make sense. If you were so in love you could make long-distance work. But you had made your bed so now it was time to wallow in it. 

Busan will have lots of pretty girls, far more spectacular and interesting than you will ever be. He’ll be fine. Deep down you know this will hurt him but Jaeyun is strong, he’ll get over it. 

Getting dressed quietly and stealing glances at his sleeping figure you hold in tears. You’re so stupid for this. You’re leaving the love of your life because you’re scared of losing him. 

Silently, you slip the ring off your pinky finger and place it on his dresser. The thought of leaving a note crosses your mind but as your boyfriend stirs you realise there is no time for that. You need to leave while you can.

As you sneak out the front door, the sun is shining but there is a bone-chilling breeze that cuts through you, you know it’s going to pour down later. Your phone vibrates with an email from your college. During the night you emailed to ask if your accommodation would be ready earlier and you presume this is the reply.

Mail: From: Avanti College RE: Housing Enquiry.

Dear Y/N L/N,

I am responding to your inquiry regarding accommodation. The room is available as of today, however, there is no concierge available to give you your keys. Your assigned roommate has been made aware of your occupancy and is expecting you today and will let you in. Please collect your accommodation key on the date previously arranged.

Kind Regards,

Cho Min Woo

Head of Accommodation and Living.

You let out a breath you never even realised you were holding. It’s now you against the world and a roommate you don’t know whether hates you for intruding early or couldn’t give two shits. Making your way home you start to run, you need to grab your bag, book a bus, and go. No looking back and definitely no overthinking. 

Thankfully you took the liberty of packing earlier in the week so you could make a mad dash out the door if needed but you still had to let someone know where you were going. The last thing you needed was your face being posted all over socials on missing persons blogs, they didn’t need to think you were dead. So when you enter your bedroom you grab a pen and pad that are sitting on your desk and scribble a note to your mum and dad. You don’t go into detail, just the basics saying you need a fresh start in a new city. You contemplate whether to include the college but they’d just drive up and drag you home, or worse, tell Jaeyun. 

As you sign the note with your name you’re holding your breath and tears. No more seeing this room, or your parents, or Ryujin, or Jaeyun. You fucked up so bad but you need to see this through. For your future. If you give up on your plan now you really don’t have a future and you’re stuck here, and to you, that is scarier.

_______

Incoming Call: My Love <3

Missed Call (67) My Love <3

Missed Call (34) Dad

Missed Call (23) Mum

You sigh and turn your music up. The bus is fully loaded as you managed to book one of the only two coaches leaving for Pyeongchang. Your hands are shaking as you click on the messages sent by Jaeyun.

07:30 am Princess, where are you? 

07:30 am Are you coming back to bed? xx

07:49 am Y/N I’m getting worried

07:52 am Pick up your phone baby please talk to me

07:52 am If I pushed you too far yesterday I’m sorry…

08:16 am Why are your parents saying you’ve left?

08:16 am Baby don’t do this

08:17 am What does your letter mean ‘I need a fresh start from everyone and everything’

08:17 am You aren’t leaving, right? You’re not leaving me, are you?

08:23 am Please please please

The messages continue down the same route until the very last few sent only minutes ago.

10:32 am I will search every part of this country until I find you

10:32 am You can’t expect me to just forget about you? Will you please answer your fucking phone?

10:34 am Y/N…I can’t make you answer me, or love me, but just know I love you and I’m sorry for whatever I did. I’m leaving for Busan in two weeks. Come home then and you won’t hear from me again. Don’t leave your parents like this baby they can’t lose you.

10:34 am I can’t lose you but if it's what you want…I’ll go.

A new message pops up on the phone from Jaeyun as your eyes are blurred with tears.

10:41 am: I love you, I won’t ever stop. My heart is yours, always. Until the sun stops shining.

You let out a sob so loud the whole bus turns to you. Putting a hand over your mouth you bow in apology and proceed to block everyone’s number, when you get to Pyeongchang you’ll get a new phone.

________

Jaeyun’s heart hasn’t stopped breaking since you left. He thought you were happy about your future together, all for you to have planned a whole other life without him. It hurts. Physically and emotionally he doesn’t have the courage to do anything but try and understand you. 

Did he read you wrong? Did he force this foreseeable life on you? Did you just not want him? It’s impossible for him to comprehend and it’s driving him crazy.

As he pulls up back to his house he sees Heeseung’s car in the driveway. He can’t deal with this right now. He loved Heeseung of course but he just wanted to go home and try and think through everything that had happened this morning. Sighing, Jaeyun makes his way up the stairs, ignoring his parent’s questions of ‘Where have you been?’

“Jake my man! Tell me how it went, you went radio silent last night, I’m presuming that meant it went well.” Heeseung says wiggling his eyebrows as Jaeyun walks into the bedroom, his head hung low to hide his swollen eyes. “Jake? You okay?” 

It’s a question he doesn’t know how to answer so instead he tilts his head back to stop the tears and exhales loudly. “Did-” Heeseung stands up and cautiously makes his way over to the younger, “did she not like it? What did she say?”

Jaeyun looks everywhere but Heeseung, his eyes hazed with tears and then he catches a glimpse of the ring on his table. Uncontrollable sobs leave him and Heeseung brings him forcefully into a hug. “She left.” 

The worry that was on Heeseung’s face quickly changed to astonishment. He was flabbergasted by Jaeyun’s statement. “Jake, what do you mean she left?” 

“Me, us, her family, she left everything behind.” The crying only got louder the more he spoke, muffled by his best friend’s chest as he nuzzled in further for comfort.

“Let me call her-”

“No use, she won't answer. She’s going straight to voicemail. Not even her mum can get a hold of her.” Jaeyun steps back and fetches the note from his jeans pocket and silently hands it to Heeseung. As Heeseung reads the letter, Jaeyun walks towards the ring and picks it up, anxiously biting his lip as he looks at it. His promise to you lying in the palm of his hand. Jaeyun starts to remember all the times he spoke about marrying you, even when people said young love doesn’t last you both just shut them out. A part of him wonders if they got in your head and he was too wrapped up in everything he didn’t notice, didn’t give you the reassurance you needed. But then, wasn’t this ring reassurance enough?

“What the actual fuck!” Heeseung exclaims, pulling Jaeyun out of his trance. “Jake…fuck, what the fuck is she thinking?” Somehow Heeseung is more angry than Jaeyun. He grips the letter tight and waves it in the air, “So she didn’t accept the ring?” The glint from the silver flashes in front of Heeseung as he stares with wide eyes.

“She accepted it. Last night went better than I could have imagined,” Jaeyun starts, “It was this morning she left.” A slow tear falls from his right eye as he finally makes eye contact with his best friend. “What did I do, Hee?”

Nothing. Heeseung knew the puppy-like boy had done nothing wrong. With two long strides, Heeseung pulls him back into a hug and almost crushes him with the pressure. Jaeyun liked hugs like this the most, ones that had intent and emotions. Heeseung was fuming and Jaeyun was breaking. Fire and Ice reacting to the same situation.

“You did fuck all wrong, Jake. I don’t get what's going through her head.” He huffs and pushes Jaeyun so he is arm's length away, his hands gripping his shoulders as he stares into his eyes, “You did everything right, she’s just-”

“Don’t. Don’t say anything about her okay? You don’t know her. She wouldn’t do this without a good reason.”

“And what? She couldn’t tell you what the reason was and instead pussied out and left? She should have told you she was leaving last night before she got your hopes up and accepted that ring, no?” Jaeyun knew Heeseung was right but his love for you was still as strong as ever so his instincts kicked in to defend you.

“Fuck you man you don’t get to speak about her like that. I might not understand it now but I don’t doubt in my mind she did it for a reason she thought was valid,” Jaeyun is pushing Heeseung out the door, his voice low, dangerous, “She wouldn’t have told me last night to protect my feelings.”

Heeseung looks his friend dead in the eye, a flame behind them Jaeyun hasn’t seen before. “Yeah? How are your feelings right now then? Do they feel protected?” Silence. The whole house is still as he scoffs and sticks his tongue in his cheek. “Think about that.” 

Heeseung storms out of the Sim residence and Jaeyun slams his door. How could Heeseung say that when he doesn’t even know the reasons behind your departure? Jaeyun is envious of him in reality. He wants to be that mad and get out all his feelings. But for now, he’ll wallow in this hurt for a few more days. Everything will come crashing once he leaves for Busan to your shared- 

His flat. 

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake sim #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #jake x reader

[lostthistime]

Geto and Gojo being the loss of each others life will never not break me

Geto literally wanted to reshape the world for Gojo, he loved gojo to the point where even though everyone saw him as closer to god than man he could see that the title was killing Gojo. Like a shackle around his neck, chaining him down and suffocating him.

He would acknowledge his hard work, he would care if he slept. He even took on the title of strongest with him, always saying we’re the strongest and finally the burden isn’t as heavy.

Can you imagine Gojo finally hearing; we’re the strongest, come from Geto’s lips and feeling an unimaginable relief because FINALLY he is not the only one responsible. The only strong one; the strongest. Finally he doesn’t feel like a giant playing with ants, because Geto saw how fucking alone Gojo was up there. It’s soul crushing to know that he chose the path away from gojo to lighten the load of the world on his shoulders so Gojo wouldn’t have to be defined by being the strongest, Gojo could just be himself.

Then he lost his body; and that body tried to kill the one person he was willing to watch the world burn for. Even though his ideology in a sense was coming true, the one person he did it for had to die for this to happen; and suddenly nothing was worth it.

Gojo even though actively childish in nature, and light hearted for the most part is the one with the most responsibility in the verse. The only time he ever felt like he didn’t have to bare the burden alone was with Geto and Geto left. No matter how many friends Gojo made, none of them ever felt like equals. None of them ever tried to be either, none of them were Suguru. No one ever saw him on the top of the mountain and tried to join him, they just admired how he looked above them.

Gojo I am so fucking sorry for what they have done to you. You should have been allowed to be a boy and a man, and not the figure of justice and sacrifice in a chaotic and lawless universe.

You deserved to live out your days happy, with the man you loved. You deserved to truly be a child with your friends. You deserved to be a boy to your family, you deserved to be happy and be a person.

You were forged into a weapon because of your ability and that was not fair to you, you deserved the choice of being passive. You deserved the choice of being a teacher, not a tool. You deserved to see your boys grow up happy, loving and safe.

Poor Yuta, poor Megumi and poor Yuuji. For having to do this, for having no choice now that you are gone. I’m sorry that the savior is gone and now you have to use him to win.

You died and still they keep using you. Using strings to manipulate your corpse after death like a puppet. You see it now, that you and Suguru really are soulmates. You share the same scars, and the same disgusting fate.

To be weapons.

#jjk #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk manga leaks #suguru geto #jjk gojo satoru #jjk manga #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen manga #satosugu

[sky-scribbles]

(A draft of a latter found discarded in the Sword Coast Couriers’ office. Addressed to a Morena Dekarios, but apparently never sent.)

Dearest Mother,

I can only extend my most profound apologies for the unpardonable length of my silence. A true conspiracy of circumstances has kept me from sending word to you, but my filial duty shall be neglected no longer, now that I may at last avail myself of a courier service again (and have ensured that a certain tressym shall not consume the appointed pigeon.)

First of all, an explanation is both deserved and due. Be assured, before you read on, that I am perfectly well

I am not in any immediate danger

the statement ‘I was abducted by an illithid vessel, spirited far from home and deposited in the untamed wilderness of the Sword Coast’ is far less frightening in practice that it might appear on paper

I have simply been away from civilisation for a spell. But I now have the fortune to find myself in Baldur’s Gate, and able to avail myself of the exquisite pleasure of fresh parchment.

Your first question, I imagine – and a most justifiable one it is! – is when I shall return to my much-missed Waterdeep, and to you. Rest assured that I fully intend

I wish for nothing more than to do precisely that. The pain of being so far from home is an ever-expanding and insistent grief.

Yet, sorry to say, the situation in Baldur’s Gate is a delicate and complex one at present, and I mind myself obligated to remain until the city is at no longer at imminent risk of annihilation

until I’ve made a decision regarding an artefact I became aware of lately

I know where my path onward might lead, and what might be required of me. There is a possibility mere inches from my grasp, one that holds the promise of change, of rewriting so much for the better. But if my road should lead where I hope it might, I do not know if I will be able to

I will be changed

I wish I could promise

it may not be in my power to return for some time.

It breaks my heart to be so evasive with you. I am sure you are about ready to tear this page up with frustration by now, and my only pitiful excuse is that this has been the most difficult letter of my life. Every day, every hour, I ache to Teleport myself straight to your side and let all that I have concealed spill from me, like a sealing rune shattered, a wound torn open.

Once there was a time when a word from you, a single touch, could resettle the world on its axis and mend all the brokenness there was. Regrettably, I fear what eats at me now is beyond any power to heal, even that of your boundless love. Knowing that does not stop me from wishing I could go to you, and be small once more. All these years, and I fear your golden child has yet to grow up.

The histories say that Mystra was a mortal woman once. I wonder if she remembers her parents. I wonder if she ever longs for them.

I wonder if I will.

I have stayed away for so long, knowing that you were safer far from me. Now, when I consider how you may feel when I become something you can no longer hold, I wish distance were enough to protect you. I have no choice

I could do so much

I can think of no way to soften the pain of what is to come, other than weaving time itself anew so that you never had a son at all. Perhaps that would have been better for you, ultimately. For everyone.

I don’t know what to do

I love you

I know I’m going to break your heart

I’m sorry.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #just... having thoughts about where his head might have been at #before tav talks him down from the godhood thing (or where his head might've stayed at if they don't) #sky's writing #bg3 spoilers

[specialagentlokitty]

Zuko x reader - the right side

Hi! I just recently discovered your blog and I’ve been loving your writing so much! I would like to request a part two to your Zuko x Reader - The Right Side. It’s so well done and I’m curious to see what happens after Zuko and the reader reconnect :) - Anon💜

Part two:

He slowly stood up and stepped out from the group, he looked at you, and you stared at him intently. It made him shiver the way you looked at him.

Your gaze was so full of fury, hatred, sadness, betrayal.

So many things Zuko thought he would never see in your eyes again, he never thought it would ever be directed at him.

“Why are you here?” You spat.

“I’m here to help, I swear. I want to teach Aang Fire bending.” He said

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you carried on gazing at him.

Zuko gulped a little as he dared to take a small step forward, and then another.

He kept going until you kicked your leg out, sending a line of fire directly in his path which he barely managed to dodge.

“(Y/N) don’t!” Aang rushed out.

You turned to Aang, frowning heavily but you lowered your hands and took a few steps towards the avatar.

You were furious with Zuko, and they all knew it.

“Go calm down.” Katara whispered.

“Come on, I’ll come with you.” Toph said.

She led you a way from everyone and Zuko watched in sadness as you left.

“She hates me…” he mumbled.

“She doesn’t hate you, she just needs time, that’s all.” Katara smiled.

“Yeah, (Y/N) can’t hate anyone, trust me!” Aang beamed.

Zuko looked over at them then turned to Sokka who gave a small shrug.

“I’ll be honest, she could hate you. You nearly killed her, betrayed her and just left her. She’s pretty mad man.”

“Sokka!” Katara hissed.

“No, no. I need to hear the truth.” Zuko said softly.

Zuko left, and for the rest of the night no one saw him, or you or Toph.

The earth bender came back before you, saying that you decided to head back to your room last night and she decided to go to bed, but she hadn’t heard from you since then.

Everything went to hell pretty quickly, from the killer Zuko hired showing up, and Azula appearing out of nowhere you guys had to fight for your lives to get out.

And you decided to sit up with Aang away from the fire Prince.

“Just talk to him.” Aang spoke softly.

“Not a chance.”

“(Y/N) he’s really trying. He feels bad for what he did and he wants to apologise, the first step to moving forward is to forgive.”

“I love you Aang, but you’re to oblivious to how to world works. It’s all good and well to pretend everything can be fixed with a simply apology but it can’t.”

Aang sighed, turning to look at you.

“You’re right, it can’t. But it’s a start, right? It will be great to be able to take some of that weight from your shoulders and throw it away. No one says you have to talk to him after that, you just have to hear him out.”

“I’m sorry Aang, but no.”

Even as you guys landed, he tried to keep convincing you to talk to Zuko, but you weren’t having it.

Sokka and Toph had asked asked you to just listen to what Zuko had to say, though Toph’s only reason was so she didn’t have to hear him complaining about it anymore.

Katara came over and sat next to you on the rock you had perched yourself on.

“If you’re here to tell me to forgive Zuko don’t bother.”

“I’m not.”

You turned to her slightly shocked.

“I understand why you’re angry, why you don’t want to talk to him or forgive him. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Thanks Katara.” You smiled.

She nodded and left, and you carried on looking out over the horizon.

Someone else sat next to you and immediately you stood up and started to walk away.

“Please! I’ll do anything! Just let me explain!” He begged.

“You want me to listen to you? Fine. I challenge you to an Agni kai.” You snapped.

“No!” Aang yelled.

The trio rushed over, trying to stop what was about to happen.

“If that’s what you want then okay. I accept.” Zuko nodded.

No one could stop this, they knew the rules, they couldn’t stop it, they couldn’t help either of you, they just had to watch it play out.

And they knew there was only so many outcomes.

Either you hurt Zuko bad enough for him to feel your pain, or you would be so blinded but your anger for him you would try your best to kill him.

You and Zuko stood opposite each other, and you stripped yourself of Iroh’s cloak before handing it to Katara to look after.

“Please go easy.” She whispered.

Saying nothing, you stepped back in front of Zuko, and he just stared at you.

You threw the first attack, pushing your hands forward to create a massive surge of flames straight at the Prince.

He easily deflected your attack, and carried on standing there, so you attacked again.

Kicking your leg in the air you sent attack after attack after attack.

All of which he deflected.

“Fight me you coward!” You yelled.

“No.”

You yelled and ran over to him, attempting to punch him but he dodged it, and so you tried to knock his legs from under him, but he dodged that as well.

“Fight me!”

“No! I won’t hurt you!” He yelled.

Zuko breathed heavily as he dodged your attacks.

Usually you were so well coordinated, you thought your attacks out carefully that you were able to knock him down easily.

But this time you were so blinded by your emotions that you were just attacking blindly, you were messy and desperate.

“Why won’t you fight me!?”

“Because I refuse to hurt you!”

Zuko grabbed your arm as you lunged at him, spinning you around so you were behind him and let go.

You stumbled a few steps and turned around.

You were heaving for air, hands on your knees as your eyes locked with his.

“Why not? You already have, May as well finish the job right?” You sneered.

“N..no.. no that’s not what I want…”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you turned around and started to walk away.

“Fine.”

Zuko sighed with relief, as did everyone else.

The battle was over, Zuko never once threw an attack, and you had finally called it off as you started to walk away.

In a split second, you spun around, kicking your leg up in the air, you sent a rope of fire at Zuko.

He barely managed to dodge it thanks to everyone calling his name, and he fell to the floor.

Running over, you took a deep breath and stared down at him as you stood above him.

Slowly you raised your hand towards the sky, crackling sounding at the tips of your fingers, and blue lightening started to build up.

“(Y/N) NO!” Sokka yelled.

“DONT!” Aang and Katara begged.

Toph tried to put up a wall between you and the Prince but she couldn’t, you were stood right over him, and she couldn’t put the earth between you both.

Zuko looked between you and the lightening in pure horror.

For you to do this it meant that you were sound of mind, you knew what you were doing, and you knew exactly what it was you were about to do as well.

As you stared at Zuko, you could register the fear in his eyes, the fear and regret.

The same thing you felt on that night he had attacked you, the pure fear running through your veins.

You had promised yourself you would never hurt anyone, you swore to yourself that you would protect people and keep them safe.

“If you want to do this… then that’s okay…” Zuko whispered.

You pointed your other hand at him, the charge was nearly finished.

Zuko gave you a sad and broken smile.

“Tell uncle I’m sorry…”

He closed his eyes and something in your snapped.

There was a loud crash, and everyone slowly opened their eyes to see what horror waited before them.

The trees in front of you had been blow down, a small fire in the centre where the blast was aimed.

You had fallen to your knees over Zuko.

He was still pinned below you, your knees rested on the dirt and you had your head cast down.

Zuko flinched when he felt something fall on his face, and he opened his eyes when he felt it again.

His eyes gazed up at yours, watching as the tears slowly slipped free as you stared at him in pure horror.

His heart pounded in his chest, his breathing was ragged and he was shaking.

Your tears fell on his face as you slowly fell to the side, resting your hands in your knees as you bowed your head down to hide your face.

“I’m.. I’m a monster…” you chocked out.

You swore you’d never hurt anyone, you’d protect people and keep them safe.

And out of pure, unresolved emotion you nearly killed Zuko.

You nearly killed a person.

A person you once trusted with your very life, a person who you had grown up with and whom you loved with your whole heart.

And he nearly died by your very hand.

Slowly Zuko sat up, turned to look behind him at what was left of the trees before he turned to you.

He reached out and hesitated, then finally reached out fully, placing his hand on your head before he quickly pulled you into him.

You wrapped your arms around Zuko, all the hatred and anger you felt was gone, you were scared, upset, ashamed.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as you cried into his shoulder.

He held you tightly against his chest, burying his face into your neck as he let a few tears slip free.

Aang and Katara ushered Sokka and Toph away, leaving the pair of you alone.

The worst of it was over now, whatever happened now was up to whatever you and Zuko decided to do about what had happened on that night

#avatar the last airbender x reader #avatar the last airbender #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar imagine #avatar the last airbender x you #Zuko #prince zuko x reader #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko imagine #prince Zuko

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

Wild Horses

Part 3

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Doctor!Reader, other characters x reader

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4

A/N: Part 3 is finally here y’all! Sorry it took such a while to finally upload, I have been extremely burnt out and needed some time to recharge after completing my semester. Therefore I have made this chapter extra long! Also sorry if it in any way feels rushed, I tried to get this posted as soon as possible since it has long been due. Let me know if you would like some more dynamics between the reader and the other characters. As always, comments and reblogs are much appreciated, I love hearing y'alls thoughts and things that you enjoyed! (Also this chapter contains a surprise guest!) 💜💜💜

Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Warnings and notes: language, violence, blood and gore, fluff, angst, slow-burn, slight implication of past abuse.

(Quick Disclaimer: I am not a doctor nor have any professional knowledge or experience involving surgical procedures. I am just a student studying in the medical field who has just started taking courses that are more degree-related. So I apologize if some of the stuff may be inaccurate.)

🍂That night, the same night Ghost saw you on that roof, your face illuminated by the stars and the moon that seemed to pale in comparison to you, he had returned to his own quarters as stealthily as he had came. His presence had always gone unnoticed both to you and the others at this time of night, a time of night when even the nightingales had laid down to rest, exhausted from their song. When he settled himself in bed that night, his torso covered by his blanket and his arm propped up on the pillow to rest under his head, he could not sleep, staring at the ceiling just as he did the night before. His body begged for a moment’s rest, anything to let his consciousness slip away in order to escape the reality of this world in which only sleep could provide. But in spite of the efforts of his nervous system, his mind contested for a few more minutes of wakefulness, moments that would only turn into hours.

🍂There was always this unspoken battle within Simon Riley, a battle of peace and conflict, a constant struggle between giving in to the comforts of life and leaving everything behind, or preoccupying himself with his current line of work that seemed to be the only thing that kept his thoughts at bay. But starting a new life? That was something that was not cut out for him. His past was and will always be his present and his future. Society had no place for people like Simon Riley, and he it. I’m telling you, this man needs therapy, bad. And one hell of a vacation.

Never in a day of his miserable life did he know you would be thrown into the mix. You, a woman of better upbringing, a woman so delicate and blinded with hope, a woman who shared the warmth of her spirit with all whom she knew. And yet, here she was, wasting her time away in a place with the likes of them, where war consumed every living soul that ever crossed its path. God were you naïve, and completely fucking daft, he had thought to himself many times, a doctor like you leaving the hospital in the city for a place like this. Jesus. Either you were a complete fool or the military offered you a shit ton of money. Or perhaps it was your youth. After all, you were younger than the rest of them. He believed a woman of your degree should not be here amongst men like them. You were soft, tried too hard to see the good in people, and one day, one day, that might be your downfall.

Sometimes he’d find himself hoping you would transfer somewhere else. And the more he thought on the subject, the more he came to despise you being here, part of the reason why he avoided you in the first place. And yet, as the days went by, the man had developed a bit of a soft spot for you as they might say. But don’t tell him that or else he might just loose another one of his knives. Truth of the matter was, he had seen what war had done, even to the best of people. And with no disrespect, a young woman like you would get eaten up alive in a place like this.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he did not want to see you wound up in this chaos. So what would he do? He'd often times monitor your activity, and by that I mean he would on some occasions check up on you, in his own avoidant way of course, whether it be making sure you woke up by standing around the corner to see you trudge along to the coffee maker in your white coat, or catching you finish your shift when you left your office in the evening. By this time, you'd be surprised to know that he has grown familiar with part of your schedule, from when you leave your room and make yourself a cup of coffee in the morning before heading into your office, to what time you have your little lunch, down to the hour of the evening when you leave your office after your shift has ended. He calls it "running a constructive operation", but you and I both know what it is. Despite his cold, masked exterior, he's not completely heartless and does want to make sure you're safe, as with the rest of his teammates.

At the same time, your safety also depends on your environment, and there is only so much a few men can do. Perhaps it would be best if you were somehow convinced to go back to the states and leave, lest this place will end up devouring every last bit of vibrancy that radiated in you. And if that meant being callous towards you and making your time here a living hell, as if you did not belong, so be it. I know it sounds like he absolutely loathes you but I promise it only seems that way.

The man obviously has trouble sleeping, which was nothing new to him, a good nights rest was something of a rarity in his case. But now it was you he found inhabiting the walls of his mind, and frankly, he found it to be quite a nuisance. And as if to make matters worse, tonight it was your voice that haunted his thoughts, that siren-like voice that rung out softly underneath the pale moonlight as if he were a sailor awaiting to plummet to his death down into the abyss of the deep indigo waters below.

He needed sleep, desperately, and if he did not get it soon he might just go insane. That’s to say he isn’t already. And despite finding you to be the cause of the whole ordeal behind it, behind him not being able to shut his eyes and fall into a short-lived coma, you were still the only doctor here and just how was he supposed to go about that. Usually people go to doctors if they have trouble sleeping, but how the fuck was he supposed to go to you. He couldn’t just walk in your office and ask if you had anything strong enough to knock him out. Sure there was always alcohol but that meant dealing with a hangover and you most likely sending him a pamphlet about the dangers of alcoholism without even knowing like some kind of psychic. On the other hand, knowing how you were, if he were to mention his symptoms you would just ask him a bunch of questions. And then what was he supposed to say? That he couldn’t sleep because you tormented and occupied his thoughts??? Never. He decides it’s better to just deal with it.

And boy oh boy your singing did not help. You reminded him of the nightingales that used to nest in the tree outside his bedroom window in his childhood home. You and your guitar, singing your song out into the night for someone out there, whomever and wherever they were. The song and your voice an empty promise, a false hope for the things that never were and never might come. And yet, despite his slight demurral towards you, in the days to come, he came to find comfort in your voice, his feet finding their way to the rooftop to see if you would be there.

On the nights that you were there, he would sit against the wall away from your line of sight, hidden in the shadows and listening to your voice, the only thing that kept him sane and dare say, even bring him an ounce of peace. He would say it was to make sure you don’t pull anything stupid or draw unnecessary attention towards yourself. But truth was, though he could not see it within himself, maybe he was watching over you, making sure no harm came your way. Little would he know, that your voice and the serenity of your aura would soon come to remind him of home, of the days where it was just him and his mother and the nightingales perched on the tree outside his bedroom window, the sound of your voice lulling him to a much needed sleep that his body craved.

Now back to the current.

That next morning you had woken up from the sun shining down on your face, its rays hot against your cheeks as you squinted against the bright light, pulling your blanket over your head with a groan before bolting upright, eyes widened with alarm. Oh shit, what time was it? You look at the watch on your wrist, eyes widening even more to see that it was NOON????? It's fucking noon?

"Fucking shit." You let out a string of curses between your teeth, grabbing your things off the floor only to get up with a gasped groan from the sharp needle-like sensations that shot up your spine, your back hunched over like a shrimp with kyphosis. You wince, hissing as you attempt to straighten yourself out, letting out a couple ows from the cracking sound that came out from between your vertebrae. Boy were you an idiot. Never sleep on cement, now your hips and back feel like they were broken in by the Hulk and you're willing to bet there would be bruises.

You could have sworn you looked like one of those grandmas depicted in the cartoons, wincing almost each time you took a step. A frown pulled on your lips as you headed towards the door that led back to the building, opening it up and nearly whining at the sight of the stairs spanning out below you. "Fuck my life."

You make sure to take your time going down, not wanting to tumble down the steps and risk a broken limb or concussion only to have one of the men patch you up and risk getting an infection. It's not that you don't trust their handiwork......but you don’t. And the thought of having your prefrontal cortex accidentally removed shakes you to your core. Don't tell them that though, you'd probably hurt their feelings.

"Y/n." You hear someone calling your name in the distance, turning your head to see Price heading in your direction.

God damn it, out of all the people to see you in this state. Don't tell anyone but Price is your workplace crush. I mean if we're being honest the whole team is fine as hell. But you loved his snarky sense of humor, his kind eyes and smile, and the way his eyes seemed to disappear into these curved crescent-shaped lines whenever he smiled or laughed. And now as he stood in front of you, his bulky frame towering over yours. You're praying there aren’t any spots of snot on your face from the way you bawled your eyes out last night.

"Oh fuck me." You inaudibly curse under your breath, knowing damn well that to hope he doesn't notice how you literally look a sleep-deprived Quasimodo would be damn near impossible.

"Where've you been? I was beginning to get worried." Price asks, looking over your hunched state that oddly paired with your puffy eyes and face. "Jesus Mary Joseph. Are you alright?"

"Yup, it's just allergies." You nod your head with a strained smile. "Perfectly peachy."

"Do you need any help?"

"Nope! I'm fine." You hurry past him. "I'm going to take a shower so whoever is in there right now tell them to hurry up."

Price watches you go with furrowed brows, wondering whatever the hell happened to you before shaking his head with a shrug and heading towards the showers to make sure it was empty for you. During your time there, the team had sorted out to give you a designated time slot for when you preferred to bathe, wanting to ensure that you received your privacy because of there only being shared showers, something which was common with being in the military. They had even given your own designated shower head. But even then, you always went in and came out fully dressed with both your towels and your clothes, terrified with the idea of the men seeing you in nothing but a towel once you stepped out. Luckily for you, no one was in there when you had arrived. When you hurried in there with your fresh pair of clothes and towels bundled in your arms, that had to be the quickest shower you had ever taken, other than the times you almost slept through your alarms and missed your exams back in med school.

So by the time you step out of your room with your white coat, empty coffee mug in hand and your hair barely brushed through looking like Dr. Emmet Brown, you don't even bother to put on any makeup or concealer to hide the fact that you had been crying last night, you already had a late start to the day as it was.

Going over to the kitchen, you groggily place your mug on the counter, staring at the pasty tiles for a good minute to gather your thoughts and remember just what it was your were doing in the first place before turning on the coffee maker only to see that it isn't working. "You have got to be kidding me." Honest to god if I don't have coffee in the morning I will commit a felony.

"There's no use meddling with that." Price comes up beside you, watching the way you moved the small machine around and smacked the sides with your palms. "I'm afraid it's broken."

"Broken?" You turn to the older gentleman, trying your best to mask your annoyance at yet another misfortune to add to your list of shit that happened today so you don't get written up for having an attitude or whatever it is they do here for uncompliant personnel. "What do you mean it's broken?" What you mean to say is, how the hell are you going to get through the day without your daily dose of caffeine? You were not in the mood for a caffeine withdrawal, not now.

"You'll have to blame MacTavish for that." Damn this man just threw him under the bus no hesitation.

"Soap? How?”

"Bloke put the coffee grounds where the water is supposed to go."

"He put the.......what?" You squint with a scrunch of your nose, trying to picture the young Scotsman mixing up the steps for the coffee grounds and water before pinching the bridge of your nose with a shake of your head. It's too damn early for this. Bitch it's literally the afternoon.

“You look like shite.” Price teases you of your completely disheveled appearance. Honestly he thinks you look pretty cute in a I just had 15 shots of espresso and forgone a whole week’s worth of sleep kind of way. Price is the type of man to see you at your worst looking like a corpse from the grave and dig it, with some concern for your overall health and well-being of course.

“Gee thanks.”

“You sure you’re all right?”

“Happier than a kid at Disneyland.” You roll your eyes before slipping out a small groan, burying your head in your arms upon the counter and muttering something along the lines of how you’re going to euthanize yourself.

“Oi. There’ll be none of that, you hear?”

“Wait and see.” You mumble to yourself but Price hears it anyway.

“Cheer up. I got you something.” You hear Price say to you before hearing something being placed on the counter.

"Is it benzoylmethylecgonine?" You mumble out.

"What?"

"Benzoylmethylecgonine." Your voice is louder this time but still muffled from your arms.

"The fuck is that?"

".................cocaine."

"Jesus Mary Joseph." Price rolls his eyes. “You’re a character, you. Why don’t you give it a look eh?”

You slightly lift your head from your arms, peering over to see a cup next to you.

"For ya." Price smiles as he pushes the cup towards you, watching you stare at the thing with skepticism.

"Well. Go on."

"Is that-?"

"Coffee.”

"Yeah I know that but-“ you lift yourself up to stare at the thing with a tilt of your head. “where the hell did you get it?”

"From a small coffee shop down a couple blocks."

Right. "What kind is it?”

"Iced caramel macchiato. Heard you mentioning it the other day."

"Oh. You did?” You blink. "You didn't have to do all that."

"Eh it's nothin, my treat. The men and I needed our caffeine too, and well, since Soap broke the machine, we needed to get it one way or another.” All but Simon of course. Dude hates coffee.

“What, did you tell him he's buying?"

“No.” Price leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares off into the distance in thought. “Now that I think about it I should’ve, aye?”

"Poor Soap." You shake your head with a chuckle, grabbing the cup to take a sip. “Oh......oh that hit the spot.”

Okay remember when the boys were competing with giving you little gifts and I said that Price showed his appreciation for you in other ways? This is what I mean. He makes sure you’re taken care of and that your little needs and requests are met. Though rare as composed to Soap's little visits, he likes to stop in your office at times, peeking his head through your cracked door and asking if there is anything you need. This man’s love language is acts of service, I’m sure of it.

“Proper innit.” Price chuckles at your blissed expression.

“Hm. Chef’s kiss.” You take another sip of your coffee as you lean back against the counter, savoring in the cold, smokey, buttery liquid as it went down your throat.

“The hell is on your feet.” Price nods towards your shoes.

“They’re my crocs.” You give a hurt look, the ends of your lips pulled into a frown.

“They’re downright hideous.”

“They’re comfortable!!!” You defend. “I even put little buttons on it.” You lift one of your feet up to show him.

“Doesn’t make it any less hideous.”

"You should try looking in a mirror first before you come talking to me about what's hideous and what's not." You snark, a teasing tone in your voice that catches the older man off guard.

Price is stunned, mouth slightly agape as he is surprised to see such a statement come from a person as demure as you, and dare say even aroused, at being affronted by someone smaller than him. "You cheeky girl." Price shifts his weight, pressing his tongue against his molars before tightening his jaw. "You've got a sharp tongue on you."

"Don't insult my crocs." You lift your chin with a raised brow, a smug expression on your face as you lift your coffee cup to your lips.

As Price and you talked, Ghost had appeared in the far corner, his eyes lowered to the ground and not a single thought behind them before hearing the sound of Price's voice. Stopping in his tracks, he peers around the corner, not wanting to look conspicuous but also curious to see who it was the captain was speaking to, looking over to see the two of you together engaged in a conversation looking a bit too comfy.

The soldier froze, tensing at the sound of you laughing and Price……flirting? Was the man flirting with you? Ghost watched the way Price leaned in ever so slightly in your direction, a slight yet noticeable shift in his demeanor as he told you a joke, the way your cheeks swelled as you snorted, your smile hidden behind the cup held in your hands in an attempt to hold back a laugh, and the way he reached a hand out to adjust the collar of your white coat. He is not jealous he is not jealous he his not jealous. Once again, HE IS NOT JEALOUS. Looking away from the scene, he turned back around and headed back to where he came. He had no reason to feel threatened by the situation, it’s not like he felt anything towards you or if you meant anything to him. And yet, why did it irk him to see you laughing with Price like that.

That was the first he had heard you laugh, though as light and brief as it was. He could tell it wasn’t your true full-hearted laugh, the ones that left you gasping for air as tears welled up at the corner of your eyes. He had seen those laughs many times at the pub from the groups of friends that gathered together after a long day of work or when they had just left from a futbol match, times when he craved a glass of whisky. The laugh you had let out right now wasn’t one of those full chested laughs, this one was different, more timid, like fresh rain in the middle of spring, where fog blanketed and seeped through the meadows and trees, where dewdrops patterned themselves like mosaics upon the blades of grass and the petals of roses. This laugh was light and airy, crisp to his ears, and it had sent a slight shiver down the stone-hearted soldier that he had never once felt before.

He convinces himself that what he saw between the two of you was none of his concern and that who you fancy is none of his business, and yet why did he find your little interaction with Price to bother him? Better yet, why does he find himself wishing he had made you laugh instead?

It should also be mentioned that Ghost did not fulfill the task he had promised himself when he said he would throw away the Dum Dum lollipops you had given him last night, thinking your little form of bribery to be quite inane. What did you take him for, a child? Regardless of the many times he stared at those two pieces of candy with your little note next to them, your graceful and sophisticated handwriting a strange polarity to the bright and colorful wrapped candy often meant for children, curiosity had gotten the best of him, as well as midnight cravings.

And alas, with numerous stealing glances toward the lollipops and his mouth watering for just a quick sample, the man had given in. And let’s just say, he’s addicted. I mean, I was not lying when I said this man has the sweet tooth of Augustus Gloop. Also, he may or may not have snuck into your office the next morning to steal a lollipop or two, or three, before rushing out the door. So you should probably hide the those things before you walk in on an empty tray one day.

"Also, I wanted to let you know that Alejandro, Ghost, and Soap and I will be heading out on a mission later today. Gaz will be staying behind just to make sure nothing happens here while we're away." Price informs you.

"What time will you be back?"

"Not till late. If everything runs smoothly, there's no need to wait up for us."

“Geez. Will it be dangerous?” Your brows furrow at the center. You knew what their job entailed, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“Well that’s part of our job now innit.” Price smirks.

"Just………make sure to come back in one piece alright. I'm not trying to perform any amputations today." You scrunch your nose in a teasing manner, though your words mean more than what your voice gives away.

"Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours. We'll be back like before aye.” Price gives you a comforting smile, bringing his hand up to brush his thumb and forefinger against the bottom of your chin before dropping it back down at his side. Though the action was small and brief, an informal unveiling of the captain’s fondness towards you, that didn’t stop your face from heating up faster than a hot pocket in the microwave. You were sure one would burn their hands if they grazed your cheek.

The others had soon cluttered into the area where you were, chatting amongst themselves before turning towards you and price, the sudden group of movement causing you to clear your throat and step just the slightest inch away.

"Hey doc." The men greeted you, their faces brightening upon seeing you before glancing down at your bright crocs.

"The fuck are those?"

"Oh my god. Don't tell me you guys have never seen crocs before." You exhale, your voice coming out in a scoff.

"Why are they called crocs?" Soap questions, brows furrowed with confusion. You and me both Soap, I don't have a clue either.

"Looks like something my abuela would wear." Alejandro comments, a mischievous glint in his eyes at teasing you.

“Que te folle un pez (get fucked by a fish).”

Alejandra is stunned from the words that just came out from your lips, cocking his head back and tilting it as he looked at you with surprised amusement. He never knew you spoke Spanish. Maybe it came with being a doctor and being around people all the time. On top of that, was this the first time he had heard you curse? Was that a stroke of confidence he heard from your mouth? Was he offended? Was he turned on? He couldn’t tell.

But as Alejandro still stood there, silent against your remark, the others begin to wonder just what it was that you said that had him like this.

“Uh what’d she say?” Soap leans over to whisper to Alejandro, his eyes darting between the two of you as did the other men.

“Ahora, ¿dónde aprendiste una cosa así, eh? (Now where did you learn such a thing, huh?)” Alejandro nods his head towards you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Conoces gente de todo tipo cuando eres médico. Y además, el idioma era parte de mi plan de estudios de todos modos. (You meet all kinds of people when you're a doctor. And besides, language was part of my curriculum anyway.)” You shrug your shoulders, taking a sip of your coffee as your eyes meet Alejandro’s dark ones over the lid of your cup.

Alejandro chuckles, pointing at you with a smirk. “Bueno, será mejor que tengas cuidado cariño. Palabras como esa pueden meterte en problemas. (Well, you'd better be careful, sweetheart. Words like that can get you in trouble.)”

“No te preocupes por mí. Soy una niña grande Me licencié y todo. (Do not worry about me. I'm a big girl. I’ve got a degree and all.)”

“What are they saying?” Soap asks again, this time to Gaz.

“How would I know?” Gaz hisses, obviously annoyed with not knowing what the two of you were conversing about. Were the two of you planning a date? Were you plotting a scheme? Were you making fun of the rest of the team? The boys definitely didn't like being left out from a conversation, especially from you.

“I didn’t know you can speak Spanish.” Soap turns to you.

“Well it seems here that our little doctora is full of surprises.” Alejandro comments, making you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

“Right.” Gaz squints at you in a jest, adding on to the men poking fun at you. “Now really doc, what the fuck is on your feet?”

"Oh screw y'all, they're comfy for my feet alright." You roll your eyes at the way they tease you about your choice of footwear, though in all honesty, you're not able to hide the smile that tugs at the ends of your lips, that is until a certain someone appears.

Ghost is the last one to show up, hoping to have avoided your presence. But when he sees you still there leaning against the counter, his eyes lock with yours before looking away as if you had never even existed in the first place.

You're almost sure he hates you, chewing on the inside of your cheek from the way he looked you over like a speck of dirt on his boot before completely ignoring your being. You have no clue why he is the way he is around you, wondering if he had seen the note you left on his door. He has to have seen it right? He’s got to. And then it hits you, at least you think. Maybe your little detail of adding the lollipops had offended him, and you’re almost terrified to think what he thought of them. On top of that, he still had never bothered to show up for his blood results. So he truly was avoiding you on purpose, wasn’t he. You wish you knew the reason behind his avoidant behavior. Did he find you disgusting? Was that a possible reason? Had you somehow at some point offended him? Were you going to end up on his hit list? Maybe. Were you going to die some mysterious death by his hands tonight? Sounds likely.

“Alright you lot. Let’s get moving.” Price gestures the men to follow him before turning back to you. “We won’t be long. Gaz, you know the rules.”

“Yessir.” Gaz nods his head before stepping over to you, looking down at you drinking your coffee with a soft smile on his face. “I’m sure this day will go by smoothly.”

“Oof. Don’t jinx it.”

You wish he had not said those last words.

You had spent most of the day relaxing as Price had suggested when the men left, their gear strapped to their forms and their guns locked and loaded. A strange scene I might add, if one were to walk into the area of the building and see a group of bulky hardened soldiers and then you, a young woman in a white coat and scrubs and her special decorated crocs along with her vintage Donald Duck watch. You almost looked out of place with the war-ridden atmosphere.

When you had stepped into your office the first time that day, you were surprised to see a slight change in your usual environment, the lack of an apple at your desk. This absence, though small and what one might call insignificant, had saddened you to a certain degree. Though at first you found the little act to be annoying, of finding the red fruit there every morning placed upon your desk, as time went by, you had grown accustomed to it a bit. So when you noticed the absence of the apple after expecting to see it just like the days before, it had lowered your spirits. Though you did not know the meaning or intention behind the gesture or the person directly involved behind it, it had come to bring you a sense of security, a slight token of someone’s watchful eye over you. Or at least that’s what you believed it to be. Little did you it was just a simple act involving the confusion of idioms.

But imagine your confusion when in place of the lack of an apple, you instead find your tray of lollipops looking a little less full than it was yesterday. Had someone broken into your office or were you just loosing your mind. And as you inspect the little tray, you're even more surprised to find a distinct black, powdery substance smeared against the side of it, right on the edge. Using your thumb, you wipe it off the side of the tray, raising your hand to further inspect the foreign substance to see that it looks a lot like eyeshadow.

"Huh. That's strange."

Ooooooo someone just got caught.

With the men gone, all except Gaz of course, you went about reading more chapters of your book, lounging about on the couch in the common area before your nerves got the better of you and you decided to do some cleaning around the area, to which Gaz had offered some help, with much eagerness in his end. Gaz of course had kept watch, letting you lead the conversations as the two of you made small talk every once in a while before going back to your little tasks, you with your paperwork and inventory of medical supplies and Gaz with his patrol.

During the moments where the two of you did talk, you began to unravel little details about each other, details mostly involving Gaz since you still preferred to keep your walls up. You called it being professional, but those who were close to you would call it a fear to let others in. Perhaps they were right. After your father’s death, you had rarely let anyone in, sometimes not even your own self. And Gaz, being the sweet soul that he was, never pressured you to reveal anything you did not want to. He wouldn’t ask about your personal life or your past unless you offered to.

The more the two of you talked, the more you learned little things about the soldier that you never knew, like his love of the ocean and how he had wanted to become a marine biologist when he was a little boy, as well as how his favorite sea creatures were, and still are, sea otters and sea turtles. He had even mentioned how his favorite movie was Nemo growing up, with Crush being his favorite character. In fact, the movie was what inspired him to study in that field in the first place. He was extremely almost embarrassed to release that bit of info to you, scared that you might pass it on to the team and that he’d never hear the end of it. When that little bit of information slipped from his tongue, he practically begged you not to tell the others. So imagine his relief when you stick your pinky out in an offer to make a pinky promise on it. You honestly find it kind of cute.

As time dragged on and when the day had become night, when the sun had long passed the horizon to lay to rest, you had grown quite weary waiting for the men to return, and oh was there a sight waiting for them to behold once they did. Your little act of cleaning around the house had drained a good amount of your energy, eventually causing you to crash out on the couch with your head resting against Gaz’s shoulder. Your legs were curled up on the cushion of the sofa, your book placed open on your lap after Gaz had asked if you could read to him, curious about the story within the binding. But the late hour combined with the cleaning around had pulled a yawn from your chest as you read the pages out loud, your voice low and muzzy and your words drawling out as your eyes scanned the printed letters before another yawn escaped your lips, and another, then another, before everything became blurry and you slowly drifted off to a deep sleep.

Even Gaz, who was supposed to stay watch, had fallen asleep beside you, his head thrown back on the back of the couch and his mouth slightly parted as soft little snores escaped it. He was never one to fall asleep on duty, known for his control over his mental fortitude. But the poor soldier had soon followed suit, infected by by your fatigue as he too yawned after each time you did. In that time, he smiled down softly as he watched you grow tired next to him, resting your head unconsciously on his shoulder and chuckling at the sight of the thin line of drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth.

He almost felt relieved, and comforted to see this side of you, after having seen you do nothing but shove your nose into paperwork and files on top of staying on guard to take care of them and make sure no serious injury happens on your watch. And as he watched you, making sure to stay as still as possible as to not wake you, your soft breathing and the warmth radiating off your body had finally pulled him in, until eventually, his state of alertness fell limp, his head rolling back as he too drifted off shortly after you.

You don’t know long you had been asleep, nor did you know you had your face smushed up against Gaz’s shoulder, your lips parted slightly and your drool pooling into a wet spot on the fabric of his jacket. If you did, you don’t think you’d be able to look him in the eye from how embarrassed you’d be. Not only did you most likely cause his arm to cramp up and fall asleep under your weight, but you had also marked his shoulder with your saliva. And if the others were to see this, they would have a kick out of it, with Soap taking multiple pictures at unflattering angles and teasing the two of you for the days to follow. And in a short matter of time, they would have seen it, stumbling upon the scene if they had not burst through the front door like a team of SWAT.

The sound of the door slamming open and their shouts had startled you awake, their voices echoing through the front of the building and making you sit up in your seat.

“What the-“ you mutter out groggily, squinting against the dryness of your eyes and not even paying mind to how you had completely crashed out. Where they back?

“Sounds like trouble.” Gaz had also woken up next to you, quickly getting up from the sofa and rushing towards the commotion as you followed closely behind.

You almost froze at the scene, watching the men come into the area with their faces worn out and beaded with sweat and spots of blood. You knew what they were getting into, what their job required of them, yet seeing them return from the mission first hand had in some way unsettled you. Sure, you had worked in the ER during your residency. You had seen conditions far worse than this, patients suffering from injuries ranging of a varying degree as they were wheeled around, gruesome wounds that still at times scarred your memories till this day. And yet, why did this seem to daunt you far worse than anything you had seen in the emergency department. It's almost as if you forgot these men were killers, and you didn't quite know how to feel about that.

Alejandro had been the first to step into the area, carrying an injured Soap under his arm and helping the Scot walk next to him as he muttered some words of encouragement in Spanish.

“What-what happened?”

“Nada serio querida. No te preocupes. (Nothing serious love. Don't worry.)” Alejandro answers simply, groaning under Soap's weight and from his own injuries.

“Nada serio querida.” Soap copies what Alejandro had said with a limp in each of his steps, his face pale from the loss of blood from his wound as he gives you a smile to assure you that everything was in fact fine, though we all know this isn’t the case.

“Well it sure as damn well looks serious to me Alejandro.” You remark as you hurry over to help the man set Soap down carefully on a chair, your voice slipping the hint of your father’s accent, a small habit that revealed itself whenever you got upset over something. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to tread carefully around me, I'm not made of glass you know."

Alejandro fell quiet as he watched you try to examine Soap, taken aback by this more....authoritative side of you, not that he had any reason to be surprised, you were a physician after all and this sort of conduct was necessary especially since people's lives were in your hands. He had not intended to alarm or offend you, the reason why he said those words in the first place, but the situation itself had managed to speak much louder than his words could ever manage. And in this moment, maybe it's best to let you be in charge.

Your eyes scattered about the area as the others soon came through, focusing on each and every one of them to try to gauge both their mental and physical state. Ghost was the next to enter right after Price, his blackened eyes from behind his mask meeting your concerned ones for a brief and fleeting moment before looking away. The skull-masked soldier was supporting another man, another masked soldier you had not seen before, one whose stature towered over everyone around him, even Simon Riley himself, whom you have thought to be tall enough already. Y'all already know who it is.

“Sir-“ you spoke up to the troubled-looking captain as he walked up to you, your eyes studying the wounded and bloodied scene behind him. You don't know what the hell happened back there, but you didn't need to hear the details to know it wasn't good. “Is everything alright? The hell happened?”

“Y/n.” Price finally stood in front of you, his hand placed on your shoulder as means of reassurance, or even a way to steady his exhausted body as he turned back to his men, running his fingers through his beard before looking you in the eye. “We were ambushed. Suffered a few injuries but we got the most of em.”

“You sure? Y’all look like you took quite the beating.” You state lightheartedly but more so from a place of worry and sympathy. “Listen Captain, if you don't mind, I need to take a look at these men."

“Right. Right.” Price nods his head, breathless from the mission. His countenance was masked behind an aura of composure as he looked over his injured soldiers, but one look at his eyes told you otherwise. He was tense, nonetheless, and you could clearly see the restlessness behind them from the way he held responsibility over the lives of his men, believing himself to be accountable if any harm should come to them.

“Do you have any wounds I need to take a look at sir? Any trauma to the head? Any lacerations or punctures?"

“No. No, I’m fine.”

"It'll be alright." You give the man a comforting smile, placing a hand on his arm to provide the only means of consolation you can give him in a moment like this.

“Thank you.” Price returns your smile, placing his hand over yours and giving it a soft squeeze. Though he felt contrite for throwing such a burden on your shoulders, he knew that you were the only person qualified enough around here given the circumstances, and he could not be more grateful for your presence. "Just....let me know if you need any help."

"Of course."

The men were badly beaten from what you observed as you examined them. A few fresh bruises marked their bodies, nothing terribly serious, but Soap, Alejandro, and the new guy were the only ones who had sustained more serious injuries. MacTavish had taken a bullet to the thigh, but luckily for him, the bullet had missed his femoral artery as well as any major nerves in the area. The poor Scotsman had felt bad for disturbing you at such a late hour such as this. But you had reassured him time and time again that this was part of your job, and that you had read over the part of the contract that said you would mostly be on-call when you signed your name at the bottom.

Soap doesn't know why he was so on edge as you operated on him. He’s nervous, extremely nervous. And what does Soap do when he’s nervous? He talks, like a lot, like a lot a lot and I don’t mean that lightly. I mean this man just talks your ear off while you’re wiping away any excess blood on his thigh and practically knuckles deep into his bullet wound. This man had been shot before so why should this be any different. Was it the local anesthetic you had injected into him? Or was it because you were a practicing physician and therefore would be able to pinpoint the finer details and eventually break some kind of devastating news to him like "I hate to break this to you Soap but I'm afraid I'm going to need to perform an amputation." Also I genuinely believe this man is afraid of needles. Don't ask me how I know. I just know.

"Y/n." Soap speaks up, gulping from the question that is about to spill from his lips as he watches you disinfect his wound.

"Hm?" You hum, focused on cleaning the area where the bullet had lodged itself.

"Am I gonna loose my leg?"

"What?" You stop, raising your head to give him a weird look. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Don' know. Ye look pretty serious..........................ya sure I'm not gonna loose my leg?" He asks again, the panic in his voice more evident this time as an image is generated in his mind of him having a wooden pegleg like some kind of pirate.

"No. No you're not going to loose your leg Soap. You're just fine.” You go back to mending his bullet wound. “If anything, you're just going to get a few stitches. I am going to have to leave the bullet in place though, so don’t fret.”

"Yer leavin the bullet in there?" Soap's face pales after hearing your statement, eyes wide as he stares at you like you’re some kind of lunatic.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can feel you staring at me like I’m crazy. The reason I’m leaving the bullet in your leg is because it’s not in a fatal area that needs removal, and it's going to do more damage than good if I take it out. And besides, your body will build a sort of......wall of scar tissue around it so you'll be fine.” You try to explain to him in a way he can understand.

“I will?”

"I promise. Now once I’m done here I'm going to prescribe you some antibiotics and pain relievers as well as an ointment to help with the healing process and keeping away infections. Just make sure to get some rest and go easy on that leg of yours and you'll be up and running in no time."

"Oh.....okay."

Poor Soap is still nervous, despite your words of consolation. So in order to ease the tension he decides to crack a few jokes, a trait that has become familiar with his teammates, much to their annoyance, whenever he's out on the field. Whether it's for his own welfare or yours, we may never know. Perhaps it’s for both, but let's just say it’s more so for his own sanity. And the way he jumps from one joke to another only makes you question how the previous medics ever sat through it.

"Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?"

"No."

"Great food. No atmosphere."

"Jesus."

"..............Hey y/n."

"Yes Soap?" You’re pretty sure this is the 45th joke he’s told you so far and now you’re just concerned for his mental well-being. But you also want to know where the hell he got all of these jokes in the first place.

"Why do seagulls fly over the ocean?"

Oh god. "Why?" You ask, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come next.

"Because if they flew over the bay, we'd call them bagels."

Jesus fucking christ. At this point you're positive your eyes are going to pop out from your sockets from how hard you are trying to stop yourself from rolling them. "Soap-"

"Yeah?"

"Please hold still."

Alejandro on the other hand was especially quiet while you tended to his wound, a gash on the proximal part of his arm on the lateral end, just below the acromial region, left from the bullet that grazed it. If he did speak, it would be small little words of motivation, sprinkled with terms of endearment in Spanish as he told you how good of a job you were doing, which you thought to be a risky thing to do considering you were sticking a needle in his flesh to sew his wound shut. He'd even tell you short little stories about his life before here, some of which may have elicited a soft chuckle from your frowning lips, a stern look that always unconsciously formed on your face whenever you were focused on something. He finds your little look of concentration quite cute honestly, the way you'd sometimes pout and squint your eyes. But most of all, he admired how calm and collected you were at such a task, as if you were doing something as simple as stitching the seams of fabric together.

He tried his best to soothe you, seeing the strained look on your face and imagining the stress you must be under, knowing when it would be best to offer you silence so that you may focus on the work at hand. And when you were done suturing his wound and wrapping fresh gauze around his arm, he pulls you in to give you a warm hug, which catches you off guard since you’re still wearing nitrile surgical gloves spotted with his blood and practically reek of alcohol-based solutions and the bleach-like scent of antiseptics. Regardless of how you look and smell like chemicals, the man only pulls you in tighter, wrapping his uninjured arm around the top of your back with his hand squeezing the back of your shoulder as he thanks you in his native tongue.

The two of you stand there for a moment in this sort of half-embrace, Alejandro with just a single arm around you and you with your hands held out behind him with your face pressed up against his chest. Next thing you know he presses a kiss to the side of your head, which takes you even more by surprise. This man really does not care how you look or smell. You could be covered in saline solution and antibiotic ointment and he’d still think you were the most stunning woman to walk the earth.

Also, speaking of smell, Alejandro smells really good, despite the hint of gunpowder from the mission he just returned from. But to say you are obsessed with his cologne is an understatement. This man smells AMAZING. His scent is woodsy, and spicy, like tequila mixed in with cardamom and bergamot, with sharp hints of clove and peppers balancing over velvety floral notes. He smells like something out one of those cheesy racy romance novels where the romantic interest climbs up your balcony during a hot summer night to hand you a single rose before whisking you away under the stars for a night of passionate-cough cough-you know what I mean. It's almost sinful, erotic, luring you in to perform acts that would make Satan and the Pope seek counsel with each other. This sudden emotion causes this stir in the pit of your stomach, lighting your whole body in flames and you almost feel ashamed for wanting him to stay a while longer just so you can get another and longer whiff of him.

“You know chica, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a really good machaca." Alejandro pulls away from the embrace, looking down at you with a slight smirk.

“Why don’t you go get one?”

“Only if you agree to come along.”

You’re stunned, caught off guard, and you better come quick with a witty response or else you’re just going to look like a fool standing there blinking at him. "Are you asking me out on a date Vargas?" Wow. I haven’t heard that one before.

"Mm, maybe. There'll be good food."

Speak no more. I am bringing the church and a marriage license. “You know, now that you've mentioned it, I suppose I have been craving some spicy food for a while."

The new guy, who’s name you found to be König, was surprisingly polite, despite his intimidating size and aura. He was a bit reserved around you at first, the blues of his eyes from behind the loose fabric of his mask studying your features to try to get a sense of your character as a person. He had heard quite a lot about you from the others, mostly the way you were gentle and kind in nature. Yet he had trouble understanding how a person could be capable of providing peace, as the others explained it, but one word from your lips and a benevolent smile in his direction was enough to convince him.

Telling from his body language, you made sure to inform him about every measure you were going to perform for the procedure, wanting to ensure he was as relaxed as possible with what you were doing, something you took seriously with every one of the patients you ever had. And the more you spoke, asking him simple questions like beginning with his name and asking where he was from and what his hometown was like and how he was currently feeling, he eventually warmed up to you, partly because he thought you were really pretty, but also because you made him feel comfortable in a place he usually did not find comfort in. I mean this man is still a killing machine despite his social anxiety. Not to mention, this was the first time he had met you. So the fact that you look out for his own wellness first really puts him at ease.

The tall Austrian had suffered a gunshot wound to his abdomen, an area that would usually require more serious care. But thanks to his bulletproof vest, the bullet was prevented from puncturing any organs or cavities or any major blood vessels or nerves, passing through his layers of skin and reaching the adipose tissue and barely imbedding into the muscle of his abdomen. You of course were able to extract the piece of metal, injecting some anesthetic for the pain and disinfecting the area beforehand before using a pair of forceps to carefully pull the bullet out.

Though the man was slightly anxious around you, he didn’t want to pry to much on your behalf and end up offending you in any manner, especially with how quiet you were, minus the little questions you’d ask him of course. Instead, he is fascinated by your steady hands and your precision, wondering how hands as small and delicate as yours were capable of performing such complex labor as he asks questions about every step that you take into the procedure and every tool that you have laid out on your table. By the end, he is completely starstruck by just how much you know. He even may have slipped a little compliment on how wise and pretty your eyes were. You’ve never heard anyone compliment your eyes as being wise, but you like it, not being able to hold back the small smile that pulls at the corner of your lips.

“Thank you for your help……..liebling.”

“It’s no problem.” You smile. You had heard that German term once before, a word once exchanged between an elderly couple that were once under your care. And the fact of knowing the meaning behind it warms your heart.

“Du hast sehr schöne kluge augen. (You have very beautiful, intelligent eyes)." The soldier mutters under his breath, nearly catching himself at the end of the sentence and praying you had not heard nor understood what he said.

“Sorry?”

“Oh um…….." König gulps, thinking of how to respond and deciding whether he should just lie or tell the truth to behind the meaning of his words. "It means you have really pretty wise eyes.”

“Oh……..why thank you. That's really sweet."

After handing König a bag containing his antibiotics, pain killers, and a tube of ointment, you also hand him a couple Dum-Dum lollipops to go with it. The Austrian doesn’t know how to react at first. Did you just give him a candy? Was this a common practice of doctors in your country? When he finally realizes this was just your way of showing kindness, he is more than delighted and thanks you for them in German, grasping both of your hands as he does so. Don’t ask me why or how but I just feel like he likes to hold both of your hands whenever he thanks you for something. Also the more eager he is, the more he shakes your hands in his.

This man’s crush on you has just went to the next level. König likes to collect whatever catches his attention, something he had done since he was a child from time mostly spent by himself. And it’s almost as if he has an eye for these things, picking out whatever has unique colors or patterns. So when you find some wildflowers or interesting looking leaves or a variety of colorful bird feathers or butterfly wings that had fallen to the dirt on your desk one day, just know he picked them out for you whenever he goes on a mission.

Believe it or not, the Austrian also has a secret talent of wood carving and is actually very skilled at it. During the days where his anxiety seems to overwhelm and suffocate him, he likes to sit outside in the grass surrounded by nature, covered in wood shavings with a knife in hand as he makes little wooden figurines of animals that he sees, whether it be birds, deer, foxes, bunnies, squirrels or skunks. It’s the only thing that he can fixate on that brings him total serenity and nirvana, sitting amongst the grass with his back up against the trunk of a tree, where there isn’t a single soul in sight except for himself and the ones that belong in the woods, where the only things that can judge him are the tall ancient trees and the creatures that walk it. But I won’t get further into this till later. Just know that he’s working on one especially for you.

Now, moving on.

By the time you were finished patching the three men up, you cleaned up the area and your tools, taking off your bloody gloves and throwing them into the biohazard container until you see Ghost stumble by in the corner of your eye. Little did you know he had been watching you from afar, not in a creepy way but in a ‘just want to make sure my teammates are alright’ kind of way. Not that he doubts your expertise of course. The lieutenant had not expected the mission to go sideways as it did, even though it was somewhat accomplished in the end. And seeing his team get wounded had unlocked this new fear in him that, to some degree, had always been there.

So when he stood there in the corner, leaning against the wall and hidden in the shadows like typical old Ghost, he found a sense of relief in watching how quickly and proficiently you moved about and just how composed you were, especially under the pace and pressure. Maybe it’s how quiet you are when you get really focused on something, maybe it’s how calm you are throughout it, or maybe it’s the amount of caution and supervision you take towards making sure the others are treated with the utmost care. Truth be told, you are like a remedy to Ghost, to the Simon Riley underneath, to the troubles and trauma that mold the broken man beneath the mask. If only the big dummy were to realize this instead of treating you like as if you were the plague itself.

When you lift your head towards the sound of slight shuffling in the corner, you catch him moving out of the shadows and sneaking away from the area. Usually you wouldn’t think anything of it, thinking he was just overseeing your work like a supervisor. But as you watch him walk off, you notice that something is off about him, something not quite right, and this intuition only builds this deep and heavy bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Ghost?”

Ghost stops abruptly at the sound of your voice, his head ever so slightly tilted to the side as he was not expecting you to have seen him, much less even say something.

“Is everything alright?”

Goddamn you and your manners. The masked soldier moves away with the slightest huff, not wanting to answer your question but you call out once more.

“You’re not hurt are you?”

“Negative.” He begins to walk off, not even looking in your direction to acknowledge you.

“Lieutenant, could I please see you for a minute?”

“Another time.”

“I insist.” Your voice is more firm this time and it catches him by surprise.

He had not heard this tone from you before, and yet, he can sense the shakiness behind it, the uncertainty. The more there is silence on his end, the more you are sure that you have reached the expiration date of your life, terrified that you had officially provoked the stone-cold soldier and that he is about to march over here and stab you in the neck with your own scalpel any second now. And as he stands there, debating on whether he should just leave, he hears your voice once again, a faint ‘please’. Heaving out a heavy sigh, the man shuts his eyes for a brief moment before turning back around and heading in your direction.

You’re not sure if you should freeze up like the fresh-caught fish on a bed of ice at the supermarket or run in the opposite direction as this man walks towards you, his mask not helping in making him look any less more pissed off than usual. When he finally stands in front of you, his bulky form towering over yours, you can only do the first thing that comes to mind, freeze up. At first the masked soldier glares down at you, the irises of his eyes only darkened by the grooves of his mask as he waits for you to speak, wishing you were the first to say something, anything, but instead you’re staring at him like a deer caught in front of headlights. Don’t worry babes, I would too.

“Well? Whadya want?”

“I just want to check to make sure you’re not injured-“

“I feel fine.” Ghost narrows his eyes at you, slowly becoming irked by your constant need to monitor his well-being and wishing you would just take his word and leave. But he knows better than to argue with someone that was literally tasked by the government to manage the sanity and wellness of task force 141. Was your etiquette a part of the job requirements as well?

“You don’t look fine.” You snark.

“Yeh?” Ghost sneers. “And who the hell are you to say that?”

“I’m a doctor.” You blink. “Or if you wanna be more specific, I'm technically your doctor. It’s my job. And telling from the dampness of the blood on your mask there that still has not dried since the moment you stepped trough the doors and god knows how long since before,” you point to the area near the bottom of the left side of his neck, more so near his shoulder. “I’m guessing it’s yours and not someone else’s.”

“The fuck are you on about? Listen here princess, there’s no-“ Ghost pulls his hand up to his neck only to feel the exact same dampness you had just mentioned. Fuck. He had been so caught up with everything around him that he had not even been aware that he had been injured. When he finally pressed his fingers to the area there, tensing from the pain, that was when he was finally able to register through that thick and stubborn skull of his that he had in fact been injured this whole time. This man probably takes the phrase ‘mind over matter’ quite literally.

“Now can I please take a look at you?” You quirk a brow up at him, waiting for a response and knowing better than to expect a quick answer. But if there’s one thing you know, if you just slightly annoy and pester him enough, he might just eventually cave in, that is if he doesn't add you to his hit list. “Look, if you wait any longer you might pass out and go into hemorrhagic shock. And depending on the class, you can suffer from organ damage and even death. So unless you want that to happen-“

Well when you put it like that- “Fine. Get on with it.” Ghost growls as he sits himself down on the chair. Bloody fucking hell you talk way more than he had ever expected from you. But you sure can keep your ground, he'll give you that. He’s just glad that none of the others are here to see him being bossed around by someone almost half his size and about a foot shorter than him.

"Thank you for cooperating." You give a short and quick smile. You may or may not have exaggerated about the last part to get him to comply. Well…….that is.........depending on the exact location of injury and the amount of blood loss of course.

Thank you for cooperating. Ghost scoffs at your statement.

“You know……I wish you wouldn’t avoid me like I were a crackhead outside your local 7-eleven.”

A what? Ghost gives you a weird look, wondering if he had heard you correctly as you go over to the sink, rolling the white sleeves of your lab coat up and turning on the faucet. The shit that comes out of your mouth, he swears makes him question your license. Then again, he’s not sure how to respond to what you had just said. It's no lie that he has indeed been going out of his way to avoid you at all costs. But the idea of you even noticing his absence had never even crossed his mind, much so that you would come to be offended by it. Noticing your lack of pressing further on the matter, he shifts in his seat, watching you wash your hands in a methodical series of steps until he notices a small marking on your inner right wrist, a small and delicate tattoo of a heartagram. It can't be.......can it? He had never listened to much of their music but.......were you a HIM fan? If so, this is certainly a detail he had never expected from you and he almost doesn't know what to think of it. What other tattoos do you have?

Once he sees you turn off the faucet, he quickly returns to his original position on the chair, not wanting to make it seem like he was watching you.

"Now I’m just going to take a quick look here." You head over to where he sat, pulling the nitrile gloves over your hands as you look down at him, reaching out towards the bottom of his balaclava before feeling him swat your hand away.

“Hey!” You yelp, more so from being startled than the actual impact. “The hell was that for?” No way in hell he just did that.

“…………….”

"I promise I won't sneak a peak at your face if that's what you're afraid of."

“……………………..”

“Listen lieutenant. I can’t check to see if you’re okay if you won’t let me.” You sigh, reaching out once more, but this time you feel his hand grab yours, his gloved fingers wrapping around the bare skin of your wrist as he eyes the ground at his feet. The loud beating in your chest reaches your ears, deafening you as you stare at the soldier who could practically fracture your wrist if he tightened his grip. At this point most would be petrified, bracing themselves for the number of possibilities that can take place just from under his control. Most would either try not to glance over at the scalpel that lays out on the table just beside within arms reach, not wanting to instigate anything further in fear of the soldier catching the movement of their eyes, or some would dare to do so anyways as part of their fight or flight response.

Maybe you should be scared of him, of this soldier who has more blood on his hands than you can count. And yet, somehow, as you finally regain control of your thoughts after being startled from the sudden motion, you can’t seem to find yourself to. If he wanted to kill you, you’d already have been dead, you tell yourself, because here you are, well and unharmed. Despite the calloused disposition of the man notorious for his ruthlessness and merciless on the field and just the sheer size of his hand around your wrist, you’re surprised at the gentleness he handles you with, the carefulness of his hold a stark contrast to the rough fabric of his gloves that rub against the sensitive skin there.

Ghost can feel you tremble ever so slightly under his grasp, feeling your racing pulse through his gloves from under his palm, not to mention the peculiar coldness of your limb, but he can also feel the severity behind your eyes as you stare him down, as if you were just waiting for him to meet them. For a flicker of a moment, you have him wondering just how much more there is to you than the Dr. Y/n y/l/n that you put on stage only for others to see. Just what else lies beyond the pristine white lab coat, those neatly pressed scrubs and your observant orbs.

“Ghost-“ Your voice is firm but heedful. “Please let go of my wri-“

"I'll do it."

“What-“

“I said I’ll do it. You’re not touching the mask.”

“Alrigh-”

“I mean it.” He lets go of your wrist as quickly as he grabbed it.

"Okay." You throw your hands up in defeat, taking a step back to give him some room. "Fine by me."

Ghost can't help but huff at your behavior, hesitating for a moment before finally lifting the bottom of his balaclava, peeling away the fabric that had become sticky with blood to expose his neck. Damn you.

"Let's see here." You lean in closer to inspect the area before cursing under your breath. “Jesus fucking christ.”

Ghost side-eyes you with a raised brow at the words that came out of your mouth. Did he just hear you cuss? Better yet, just what the hell did you see to make you say those words. You almost don’t even have to hear him say anything to know what he is thinking.

“See this is why it’s important you come to me.” There’s that same strictness in your voice, and yet, this one is different. Is that a slight hint of genuine concern he hears? Realizing how you might have sounded to a man who has probably dealt with far worse, you straighten up, clearing your throat as you did so and fluttering your eyes away from his forbidding gaze. Pushing away whatever emotions that managed to rile you up like that, you clear your throat once more. “So, looks like there’s a laceration, along the inferior portion of your neck here, proximal to your acromial region. But lucky for you, your brachial plexus is still intact. The bullet, or whatever the hell you've been hit by, narrowly missed your suprascapular artery and nerve. Though I will have to perform some sutures to reconstruct your trapezius muscle."

"English, for fucks sake." Ghost grumbles at your rapid speech involving words he finds incoherent. But you and I both know it’s only because he finds it to be a turn on. That's why he let you ramble on in the first place.

"What I meant was, good news is, your nerves and blood vessels are okay. Bad news is, your trapezius muscle, which is the muscle that runs along the curve of your neck here and a portion of your back has a slight gash here at the top. So you are going to need stitches. And a lot of rest afterwards of course, to make sure it's properly healed."

"Fuckin hell." Ghost mutters under his breath.

"Now if you'll let me-"

"Yeh yeh. Just make it quick."

What had been a short amount of time had instead felt like hours for the masked soldier, for Ghost, for the wounded Simon Riley beneath all those layers as he remained in his seat like a statue, ensuring that he stayed as still as possible while you worked on him. He had not uttered a single word during the whole duration, not even the slightest grunt. And if it hadn't been for his steady breathing, you would have presumed him to be dead. He had to be the quietest patient you have ever dealt with, not to mention the most stubborn, and you found yourself wishing he would say something, anything. But to expect such from a man such as him would be a fool's errand, a fruitless endeavor.

And even if he chose to speak, what the hell would he even talk about? His fucking trauma?The man wouldn't even look at you, his eyes wandering everywhere but your face. In spite of his grievances towards you, his reluctance to ever establish any form of association with you, he'd find himself slowly stealing glances in your direction from time to time when you weren't looking directly at him. He'd find himself studying your features as he once did the first time he met you. You were wearing that same perfume, that deep woodsy and floral perfume that reminded him of an old bookstore, of one of those metaphysical shops scattered with different fragrances of the smokey incense, the unmistakable scent of you that had been ingrained in his mind ever since.

"So, what kind of a name is Ghost anyways?"

".................."

"Right. I forget you don't speak."

Ghost gives you a quick and sharp glare before staring straight ahead. Damn that sharp tongue of yours.

"You seem tired." You remark, picking on him just a tad bit to make a reference to when he commented on your dark circles, but also because he actually did genuinely seem tired.

"............."

A cock-up, no thanks to you, Ghost thinks to himself, knowing damn well the only reason he could not sleep was because of you, though he senses the only reason you said that was because he had mentioned to you how you looked tired.

More minutes pass, and he has yet to even snide at you. You'd almost prefer a huff of irritation directed at you over nothing.

"You know," you utter, "I went to medical school with an incredibly ambitious guy who was obsessed with collecting skulls. He'd do anything to get a head."

You what? Ghost looks at you just the slightest with a single blink. What the bloody fuck are you talking about? Oh wait.

“What is a sleeping brain’s favorite rock band?”

“……………….”

Oh no. It looks like Soap’s habit has taken hold of you.

“REM.”

“……………….”

Okay maybe that was a bad idea. The look that Ghost just gave you makes you want to never say another joke again. He actually thinks the first one wasn't too bad.

“You know, you’re lucky the bullet grazed you where it did.” You lean in a bit closer as you suture his wound. “Any more to the left and you would’ve have been in some serious shit.”

Your little movement manages to catch Ghost’s attention, and if you weren’t shoving a needle through his flesh he would have moved away. Instead he glances just the slightest over in your direction, his breath hitching in his throat at the close proximity between you both. His eyes trace over the details of your face as if he were studying a map, going over every one of the little characteristics that make you you. If only you could see the way he looked at you, you would have been able to see the subtlest change, the tiniest, sliver of a crack in the hardened shell that surrounded Simon Riley, of that shell that is Ghost.

There is a moment when your thigh brushes against the side of his as you turn away to move on to the next step after stitching his wound, a moment that goes by unnoticed to you, but not to him. The small contact, though brief, had managed to send a jolt of warmth through the soldier’s body, a feeling that is completely foreign to him, prompting him to tense up and bury whatever it is that has him reacting this way. It isn’t until you sense him shift beside you that you turn back to him, gauze and ointment in hand just as you catch him transfer his line of focus somewhere else. The faint alter of movement had you raising your brow, knowing well what you saw but unsure of the motive behind it.

While you went over to him, studying whatever you could gather from his body language and just his eyes due to the obstruction of his face, you noticed that his eyes were quite expressive for a man known for lacking any basic human emotion. While dressing his wound, you picked out the way his blonde lashes fluttered against his deep mahogany irises as they focused on anything but you, the black color smeared around the exposed area of his balaclava accentuating the blondes of his hairs. This had to be the first time you had actually taken a good look at him.

You would have complimented him on his eyes and lashes, but you thought against it, not wanting to embarrass yourself, or more importantly, the last thing you needed was to dig yourself deeper on his bad side and end up as a dusty file to be brushed under the rug. Speaking of. Now that you mention it, the stuff he wore around his eyes looked awfully similar to the stuff you found on your candy tray. Couldn’t be him could it? No, it can’t possibly be. The man avoids you way too much to even think about taking something that is even associated with you. Maybe you’re just overthinking like you always do and what you found was just from your own eyeshadow palette. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve accidentally smeared remnants of eyeshadow from your fingers to other things. If only you could ask him, but this man hates you enough as it is. You could casually bring it up one day, although now definitely isn’t the time.

When you were finally finished tending to him, getting up to gather some pain relievers, antibiotics, and some ointment for him to take with him, Ghost had noticed something that he had not spotted before, a small pitted and circular mark that sat at the left side of your neck. As he stared at it, trying to decipher just what it could be, it looked to be a scar of some sort, though a bit faded with time, it’s shade slightly darker than your skin tone. Where had he seen a mark like that before? And then it hit him.

“There you go.” You came back around to hand him his treatments in a brown paper bag, your voice causing him to quickly avert his gaze. “You’re all set.”

Taking the brown paper bag from your hands, Ghost couldn’t stop thinking about what it is that he saw marking the skin of your neck. Something in the back of his mind knew just exactly what that scar belonged to, what it meant. But Ghost, or Simon Riley, knew better than to delve into something that wasn’t his business, knowing well the cost. He could just be over-analyzing it all, mistaking it for something completely different. But why was he even bothering to do so in the first place. He had better things to do, duties that were assigned specifically to him, and trying to figure out that mark on your neck wasn’t one of them.

Ghost is quick to get up from his seat as he ushers you a quick thanks, the hardened wall once again building up to the masked soldier who had dared to even let it down just the slightest around you.

“Ghost wait.” You call out to him as he walks away, watching him stop in his tracks. “……before you go………next time you’re injured………promise you’ll at least come to me.”

“….I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Look,” you sigh, “I get it if you think I’m annoying……..or if you hate my guts, whatever, I don’t care. Just….at least let me help you.”

“Don' bother.” Ghost tightens his jaw as he tilts his head towards you, the brusque in his deep voice evident before he regains his steps, disappearing from your line of sight.

“What an asshole.” You breathe out with a shake of your head. You swear this man has you testing your Hippocratic Oath. You don’t know what it is that makes him despise you. Maybe it’s just him and that’s just the way he is, something you might have to ask the others about. Usually words like that would have you lying in bed awake thinking what you did wrong, but you are much too tired for that.

As Ghost went back to his room, shutting the door behind him, he opened up the paper bag you had given him, spilling out the pill bottles and ointment tube onto the table until he heard something roll off the edge of the table and fall onto the floor. Furrowing his brows, the soldier looked at the ground at his feet to where the mysterious item had fallen only to see a single Dum-Dum lollipop, sour apple flavor. Bloody fuckin hell.

Part 4

Tag List: @swissy23 @sualocin @kristalhi @deakyspuff @sometimes-i-write-good @hamilfanyu @princessranch @ig-you-idiot @obitoshotaf @cavern-creature @at0mschutzbunker @eddiesbixch696 @souls-rain @euovennia @i-wish-we-could-stay @depressedacidtest @gh0stm3g @thequeenofbigmacs @k1llerch4n @abbiesxox @feraltiddies @wand-erer5 @1redheaded3dragon @anisa269 @jocecymoo @mango-corner @classickook @trueee33 @sockertop @lupskelly @chxbits @kuwizo @sluxm3ozt @tobybestupid @anarchygoose @lez-zuha @thatoneautor0123 @aloudplace @ella-error505 @awkward-0 @ariessux @kermitdefroghere @urloverx @alldaysdreamers @rat-elbows @watersquirtpewpewboomm @izzyisstuff @notabotiswear @thecraziestcrayon @lilwingedwolfy @sprkthere @shyyxzi @bookmark-anon @simplecole18 @itsourkisses-blog @here4thespice @sunndust @josephquinnswhore @spooniscute @xghostyx666 @nikolai-m-s @he4rtbloss0m @classifiedtoe @killergoddessmm @sm8th0p @lunarayx @iwannabeazoldyck @butterflypillows @lobeliaaaaaa @mxtokko

#simon ghost riley #ghost fanfiction #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x oc #simon riley angst #simon ghost riley x you #soap x reader #soap x you #soap x oc #soap mactavish #soap imagine #john mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #john price x reader #gaz x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #konig x reader #konig x y/n #john price x y/n #john price x you #gaz x you #konig x oc

[lavidavacomoverstappen]

Invisible 2

I’m so sorry that this took me ages to finish, here is the original ending that the anon asked for

Here is the link to part one 🎀https://www.tumblr.com/sidesplashofsainz/747013673029189632/hiya-could-you-write-something-with-charles-x?source=share

here is the link to the angsty alternate ending 🎀

https://www.tumblr.com/sidesplashofsainz/747104615177273344/invisible-2?source=share

680 words around 3370 - 4381 characters 🎀

Charles was a dick—a proper dick. He had promised that he would never make you feel small or insecure around him, yet he had made you feel that way.

If the old Charles could see himself right now, he would have probably smacked himself hard on the head. 

He really didn’t know why he didn’t just talk to you, giving you the time and opportunity to explain why you said what you said. He knew it wasn’t your words that hurt him; it was the truth behind them that had smacked Charles in the face.

Charles lived in this delusional world where Ferrari were still the world champions and believed that he could bring the Scuderia back to its former glory. How silly of him to think that.

His wife’s words were the last straw; her words had shattered his whole perception of the team. He went back to all the failed races and championship opportunities.

Charles knew he had messed up big time; luckily for him, he knew how to make up big time as well. He started off by driving to Paris just to pick up your favorite pastries; he followed that up with picking up your favorite flowers. Black Red and white roses mixed with tulips—you said that they reminded you of Monaco and Charles; that’s why they were your favorites. Charles shakes his head and laughs faintly, his heart feeling heavy. He couldn’t wait to make it up to you. He was willing to hear you yell and curse at him; he was willing to endure the hits that your fists would throw at his arms and shoulders. He just missed you—your voice, your happy smiles, your eyes, everything about you. 

He played your favourite song on his drive back, wishing that you were next to him. 

Your soft cries welcomed him home, waking him up to the mess he had created for no valid reason. He was scared. For the first time, he was scared to see you.

Never did he expect to find you in the state you currently were in, shaking and trembling hands all red from the scratches you inflicted on yourself—a crying mess. Little sorry being muttered in between the shallow breaths you were taking, Charles felt his eyes water, knowing he was the cause of all your pain and anguish. 

His watercolored eyes were all it took for you to collapse into his arms, just wanting the warmth and comfort that only he possessed; it was intoxicating his heartbeat; his scent was his presence; it was overwhelming for you.

Everything that you had tried to hide came bubbling up to the surface. Charles was all you needed; he will always be what you desire, regardless of what he does to you. 

Charles was shaking; his eyes were wet and closed with regret. He started muttering incoherent apologies into your soft hair; all you could hear was “mon ange” over and over again. It took him an hour to calm both himself and you down. 

What followed after that hour was Charles apologising over and over for what felt like an eternity. You didn’t let him forget how he made you feel. You made sure to set boundaries and make sure that you’d never let him bring you down such a dark path again. The rest of the day was spent with Charles making up to you in every single way known to mankind, from hugs and kisses to soft intimacy, breakfast in bed, long shopping sprees, hundreds of flowers, and what felt like millions of love letters. All of that was followed by devoting the whole week to fixing everything he had destroyed, both physically and mentally. 

It took weeks for everything to go back to the way it was, for you to feel like you were finally seen by your husband, and for you to not feel invisible. Everything took time and effort for the both of you to rebuild your relationship. Everything worked out in the end; you were no longer invisible. 

#charles leclerc x wife reader #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #mafia!charles leclerc #mafia!f1 #charles leclerc #dad!charles leclerc #formula 1 #fanfic #fandom #charles lecrelc

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧

trent frederic.

word count: 5.0k

warning: explicit content

"can you blow my mind?" — tyla

A/N: i recently received a request for trent and a leafs fan. i was given creative freedom and this is what i came up with. hope you like it, nonny <3

- - -

Bruins win Game 7 in OT.

The headlines came out at a rapid rate, informing the rest of the world that the Boston Bruins made it out of the first round and turned the Toronto Maple Leafs into mulch. Again.

Trent Frederic, along with a few teammates, were on too much of a high to return to their rooms at the hotel they’d been staying in just yet. Though they were home in Boston, coach Jim Montgomery thought it would be smarter to have the guys stay in a hotel instead of going back to their homes and apartments. Team bonding, he said.

The bunch set off for the bar inside the hotel, only a few blocks away from TD Garden, waiting a few hours before slipping in nonchalantly. They weren’t trying to get outed too fast, and they usually didn’t. Even once they were recognized, not much came of it. Most people were too drunk by then to make a scene, anyway.

So they sat down at the bar and ordered a few beers, celebrating accordingly and talking amongst themselves. They would finally let loose for just a night before the inevitable start of round 2 in just two days. They’d be having practice the next morning and flying down to Sunrise, Florida to face the Panthers, who were on their extensive break after knocking the Lightning in just 5 games.

Trent decided he’d had enough after his fourth beer, so he left his share and stood up to make his way out. As he turned around, his body hit something with a thud. He looked down and saw what it was that he came into contact with; a thin blonde woman with her arms out, jaw slack, and an empty hand that once held her drink.

Oh, and a Maple Leafs jersey.

“Oh, shit,” Trent muttered, compressing his lips.

You scoffed, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I can get you a new one.”

You looked up, a look of guilt on your face as your hands fell back down to your sides. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve been looking where I was going, too—”

You paused.

“Where do I know you?”

He remained silent, shooting you a look as if to tell you that it should be obvious. It wasn’t long before your face dropped and it hit you. He suppressed a grin at your realization and parted his lips to speak.

“Name’s Trent,” he spoke smoothly, “but something tells me you already figured that out.”

“Well, you’re one of the last people I’d like to see right now,” you rolled your eyes, arms folded. “What’s a guy like you doing at some random bar at,” you looked at your watch, “12 in the morning after the game where you just knocked my team out of the playoffs?”

“Had to celebrate somehow,” he winked.

“Oh, god,” you grimaced. “I really do hate you guys.”

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of sunshine,” he laughed, putting his abnormally large hands on his hips. Your eyes subtly followed their path.

“Lighten up,” he teased. “C’mon. What’s your name? I know you’re not a,” he pinched the fabric of your jersey and pulled it to see the numbers, “Marner. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

You sighed at his remark and told him your name, but he made a face afterward.

“Too long.”

“Too long?”

“I think I’ll stick to Marner,” he told you, much to your dismay.

“Gross,” you replied irritatedly. “I don’t particularly feel like giving you the privilege of using a nickname. Just use my real name like everyone else. ”

“I’m all set, actually. I think I’ll stick to mine.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“You gonna let me buy your drink or keep bitching about who I am?”

“Fine,” you sighed, “buy me the damn drink.”

He and you made your way to the other side of the bar, far enough away from the rest of the guys and the few friends you went with that you wouldn’t be noticed. You sat next to each other on the bar stools, Trent talking your ear off and you reluctantly replying with mostly one-word responses.

“You can’t be that angry with me,” he finally spoke, breaking another silence. “I’m not the whole team, you know.”

“I can and I will,” you shrugged, sipping your almost-empty drink.

“If you won’t talk, then I’ll just have to make you talk.”

He put his elbows down on the table and turned his head to face you, “Why’d you decide to come out in public after that game? I wouldn’t have even bothered to show my face in a bar wearing that. You here with other people or something?”

“I came with a couple of friends.”

“Doesn’t answer my first question.”

You looked down. “They wanted to come down here. I told them it was probably a bad idea because of the fact that we’re, you know, Leafs fans. They did it anyway so I just tagged along.”

“Bet you didn’t expect to run into me,” he nudged you with his shoulder, bringing a faint smile to your lips. “There you go,” he teased when he noticed your expression. “See? I’m not so bad.”

“Fraternizing with the enemy is a bad look for a woman like me,” you retorted, a playful undertone to your words. It was uncharacteristic compared to the closed-off manner you had with every other response. You wouldn’t admit that, however.

“Oh, she jokes,” he took the final sip of the drink he’d bought himself upon sitting with you, even after deciding he’d had his last beforehand.

“Shut up, Frederic.”

“We’ve regressed to my last name now? Can’t even call me by my first?”

“But you won’t use mine at all,” you rolled your eyes, “Trent.”

You looked at him for maybe a tad longer than you should’ve, eyes slowly moving down his body. He wore a white collared shirt that hugged his arms and gray dress pants that looked awfully tight around his thighs. You couldn’t help but notice the facial hair he’d grown since the start of the round, giving him a gingery mustache with a somewhat patchy beard. You’d seen what he looked like before that and were undoubtedly intrigued by it, regardless of whatever grudges you held against him. But you couldn’t let him know that.

So you turned to face the television above the bar, watching the commercial in a quiet trance as if nothing happened.

“Hey,” he tapped his finger on the bartop, diverting your attention back to him. “Tell me something,” he softly requested as you looked back, adjusting his body to face yours. “Why did you let me buy you the new drink if you weren’t going to talk to me, hm?”

You swallowed, “I wasn’t going to be rude.”

“The real reason,” he pressed.

“There is no real reason.”

“Alright,” he nodded, “so why were you staring at me before?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He lowered his voice and brought his face just slightly closer, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “You’re not a very good liar, you know that?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I mean,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders, “unless I didn’t see you looking for a while there. But I’m pretty sure I know what I saw.”

“Just…just shut up, Trent, alright?”

“Sounds like I hit a nerve,” he noted and you rolled your eyes. “You know, you’re cute when you’re irritable.”

His grin widened when you shook your head again, promptly informing him of how annoying he was once again. “But if I’m really being honest here,” he lifted his fingers and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I think you’re pretty.”

At this, your hardened exterior softened. Your head turned just slightly so that he was in your field of view and you sighed gently. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

“I, um,” you cleared your throat, taking a breath, “I was looking before.”

“I know,” he softly responded, hand slipping down until his palm rested on your thigh. Initially, you flinched at the contact, but your muscles relaxed when you realized it was a warm gesture rather than one with malicious intent.

“You don’t have to be so cold,” he told you. “No matter who I play for, I’m just a guy.”

You were more attracted to him than you wanted to let on, and it surely didn’t help that he was being nicer to you. You suppressed a smile and faced him fully.

“It’s not that, it’s—it’s the point,” you flatly responded.

“You can look at me again,” he teased, thumb rubbing your thigh. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Your gaze lingered on him again, eyes flitting down to his lips before you looked away. It wasn’t hard for him to see through you—after all, you allowed him to keep his hand where it was, even after refuting his words. He took notice of your wandering eyes and finally pieced it together.

“Like the new look, eh?”

Your brows furrowed and you swallowed, “What new look…?”

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” he replied with certainty. “You have a thing for the scruff?”

“Please. I don’t even know what you looked like before that,” you lied, taking an unsteady breath.

“Doesn’t change that you were looking at it, does it?”

“Well…” you trailed off, lips parted as you tried to think up an excuse. “No,” you finally gave up, letting your head hang down. “It doesn’t, because I have seen you before and I do have a thing for it. For you,” you shook your head, laughing at the reality of how weak you truly were. How stupid you must have looked to him. “So tease me all you want, say that you told me so—you’re right.”

A ringed finger slipped under your chin and tilted your head toward him, his face mere inches away from yours.

“I’m not going to tease you.”

You swallowed, expression falling as your eyes locked with his. They were brown, you noticed. And they were…warm. They largely contrasted how he looked at you previously. It brought you to an entranced sort of state.

His touch was soft, comforting. But in a way that made you want him more. Caused your mind to wander to places you knew it shouldn’t have gone. It felt good. Really good.

And you had no business wondering what the rest of him would feel like on you.

“Where are you staying?” you blurted out.

“Upstairs.”

“Take me,” the words left your mouth before you could protest.

An eyebrow raised and his grin turned to a smile. “Gladly,” he whispered, lowering his hand and standing up.

He held his hand out and you hesitantly took it, allowing him to discreetly walk you toward the exit of the bar. You ducked when you saw your friends, praying that by some miracle they didn’t see you walk out with Trent Frederic.

“Trent,” you whispered, clutching onto him harder now that you couldn’t be hidden by the darkness of the bar any longer. “What if someone saw?”

“You would’ve known by now. Trust me,” he reassured you as the elevator doors slid open. You walked in and the doors shut, enclosing you in the small space. “And if anyone did,” he started, fingers brushing against the nape of your neck, “it’s none of their business, anyway.”

“Mhm,” you agreed softly, eyes beginning to close when you felt his warm breath on your neck.

“See? Not so hard to agree, is it?”

“Mm…no…”

He laughed softly in your ear and pressed a tiny kiss to the skin behind it. He intricately placed a few more on the exposed skin, prompting a faint hum from your lips as the doors slid back open. His hand found its place on your waist as he gently pushed you out, guiding you down the hallway and finally stopping in front of his door.

By now, you’d become urgent—urgent to feel his lips on yours no matter how much you told yourself it was a stupid idea. You lived in Toronto; a whopping 500 miles away. And he played for Boston, the team you hated with a passion so strong that you vowed to never let yourself be endeared by them. Yet there you were, standing next to the forward who contributed to your favorite team’s loss, wanting nothing more than for him to make you feel oh, so good.

And he would.

The door clicked open and he pushed the lever down, stepping aside to let you in. He was quick to pin you to the door with his body, arm coming up behind your head to lock it and toss the room card to the side.

“I can’t believe I let you charm me.”

“What can I say,” he rasped, leaning in closer, “I know how to get a girl in my room.”

His lips finally connected with yours and you immediately reciprocated, hand flattening against his chest and gripping the material of his shirt. You pulled him closer, slipping your free hand around his neck before tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The hair above his lips rubbed against your skin, the feeling eliciting a faint hum from your mouth into his. He grinned at this and hooked his fingers under the blue jersey you wore, pulling away promptly and carefully lifting it up.

“Taking this shit off,” he mumbled, pulling the fabric over your head and discarding it to the floor. “You’d look much better with mine.”

You rolled your eyes, “Not going to happen, Trent.”

“We’ll see,” he grinned, moving his lips to your neck and marking up the skin, drawing whimpers from your mouth.

Your hand snaked into his hair, fingers threading between the dusty ginger strands as you pushed his head closer. He kissed up to your jaw, sliding his hand up to your neck, the other placed on the bare skin of your hip. His fingers pressed into the nape of your neck and his thumb rested just under your chin, hand pressing the back of your head against the door as his lips kissed a path down your jawline.

“Shit,” you moaned breathily, reaching for the buttons on his shirt as his mouth returned to yours hungrily.

You worked your way down, the material of his shirt parting and exposing his skin as each button fell open. His tongue slipped between your lips, grazing your teeth before rolling over yours languidly. Soft fingers untucked his open shirt from his pants and began to trace his stomach, moving slowly up to his firm chest. The action caused the large hand around your neck to tighten its hold, prying a moan from your throat.

“Didn’t know,” you panted, “—didn’t know you wore a chain.”

“Like it, mm?”

The way he grinned down at you brought a lump to your throat. He made you nervous. Weak, even. And the height at which he stood compared to you surely didn’t help. So you nodded curtly in response, hoping he’d take the hint and not press you further.

But he took it and instead removed his hand from your neck to slide it down and meet the other at your lower back, promptly hoisting you up. Your hands moved to his face and held it while you continued to kiss him, him walking the two of you away from the door and in the direction of the bed. You kicked your shoes off just as he grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall outside the bathroom and laid it lazily atop the sheets. He then lowered you onto your back and let go, allowing you to lie comfortably on the bed as he remained on his knees in front of you.

He quickly shed himself of the torn-open shirt and tossed it toward the empty bed on the other side of the room. His body soon hovered over yours, an arm on the bed on each side of your head as he kissed you again. His lips moved to your neck once again, working the skin until soft moans slipped through your parted ones.

“Trent,” you exhaled, chest rising and falling deeply, “isn’t…isn’t someone else staying here with you? There’s—mm—two beds.”

“There was,” he mumbled into your skin, moving down to your collarbones.

“So couldn’t we get—”

“Was,” he repeated. “He already went home to his girlfriend. And I have both room keys.” He chuckled softly and reached around your back to unclasp your bra, the fabric coming loose on your chest. “So relax.”

You nodded and lifted your arms for him to pull it off, him letting it fall from his hand before kissing a path down the valley of your chest. His body moved down as he continued down to your stomach, then to your waist where his fingers hooked in your pants and slid them down your legs.

You kicked them off and opened your legs, allowing Trent to slip between them. He gently kissed your inner thigh, slowly working his way up until he reached the lacy fabric that covered your skin. He looked up, making and not breaking eye contact with you as he took the waistband between his teeth and tugged the fabric slowly down your legs. As he rose upwards, they and your pants were dropped to the floor.

Warm breath fanned the skin between your aching thighs, awaiting his touch oh, so impatiently. His fingers brushed the area, dragging themselves slowly up and down. His eyes flitted up to you, a faint grin playing on his lips before focusing back down.

“God, you’re wet,” he rasped, leaning down and settling his face between your thighs, your legs atop his shoulders. His hands wrapped around your outer thighs and gripped them, pulling you in promptly.

“Especially for someone who claims to hate me so much.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned, “Think that’ll make me like you any more?”

“No, but maybe this will.”

With that, his mouth wrapped around your clit, tongue swirling around and eliciting a gasp of shock from your parted lips. Your eyes widened as he sucked gently, hands kneading the warm flesh of your thighs.

He then trailed downward, planting small, light kisses on the sensitive flesh, all before his tongue carefully parted your folds and delved slowly inside. Your fingers gingerly threaded into his strands, palm flattening itself on the back of his head as you pushed him down, your body weak with the need for more friction.

The hair that had recently grown above his lips brushed against your skin, rubbing back and forth forcefully and bringing meaning to the term, ‘hurts so good.’

“God, fuck,” you groaned, hands tenaciously gripping the sheets and his curls as his tongue moved in a rhythm that was just enough to make you long for more.

He lapped at you mercilessly, expert movements of his tongue coaxing soft moans from your mouth. A cocky grin stretched across his lips as he brought you to the brink, then pulled away, forcing a whimper from you at the loss of contact.

A large hand was removed from your thigh and brought between your legs, knuckles once again dragging lazily along the sensitive, needy skin, but refusing to give you the satisfaction of doing what you wanted most. He was teasing you; punishing you for the way in which you treated him earlier without giving him as much as a chance to prove himself.

“Trent,” you whined impatiently, hips writhing involuntarily against his bearded face.

“Mm…what?”

You refused to admit the irrevocable attraction you had to him because you didn’t want to let him win. And now he was being a bitch to you, just like you were to him. He chuckled softly and pressed the tip of his finger to your entrance, allowing you to feel the small bit of pressure that came with it. 

“Please,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his curls.

Enough was enough and he pushed the finger in, drawing a moan from your lips before adding another and thrusting them in and out with no room for complaint. The cold metal of his ring brushed against your sensitive inner walls and you gasped at the initial contact, your rampant mind having forgotten about the jewelry to begin with. And deep down, you loved it.

His mouth returned to your skin, tongue licking small stripes on the mound of flesh above his fingers, the scruff on his chin rubbing roughly against it. You knew you were going to have burns on your skin caused by his facial hair but you didn’t care; you just wanted to keep feeling him.

“Trent, don’t stop.”

He laughed quietly and sped up the pace of his fingers, urging you even closer to the edge. Your thighs closed in around his head, hand still pushing his head down. He hummed in satisfaction, the noise vibrating against your skin as he felt you clench around his long fingers.

His lips sucked on your clit in a steady pattern, causing your release to rip through you, prying a moan from deep within your stomach. You fisted the sheets tighter as your hips writhed against his face and fingers, legs beginning to shake from the pressure. Trent continued to work you through it, tongue lapping up the wetness that accumulated until you sunk back down into the mattress, spent.

Slowly he removed his fingers, first bringing them to his lips to lick them clean before rising back up. You inched backward on the bed until your head pressed against the pillow, Trent following and planting himself on his knees between your legs. His fingers reached down and fumbled with the buckle on his belt, eyes never leaving your body in the process. It wasn’t long before his belt haphazardly hit the floor, then his pants and his painfully hard cock was freed from its constraints. A rough palm placed itself on your knee, rubbing it slowly.

“Trent,” you swallowed, drawing his attention back up to your face. “Con—”

He raised his hand to cut you off, a gold wrapper resting comfortably between his index and middle fingers. The action having rendered you silent, he promptly took the foil between his teeth and pulled, spitting out the excess before taking out the latex and rolling it onto himself. You soon felt the pressure of him at your entrance, legs subconsciously widening to let him slip between them further, then heard the sound of him groaning as he pushed into you.

You swore it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard.

He leaned forward slowly, giving you just a moment’s time to adjust to his size as he stretched you out. Your breaths were unsteady, eyes screwed shut as your fingers maintained their forceful grip on the sheets around you. Your mind was racing, but you knew one thing for certain—the man was about to fucking blow it. His body hovered above yours as he kissed a path from your stomach up to your neck, hands pressing into the mattress on each side of you.

“Where did you,” you breathed, “get that?”

“Pocket,” he rasped, mustache brushing against your neck.

Eyes wide, you responded, “That’s not—”

“Relax,” he mumbled, the corners of his lips slightly upturned. “I put it in there today.”

Then you impatiently lifted a hand to the back of his head and pushed his lips onto yours, kissing him urgently and wordlessly telling him to just move. He obeyed your silent command and pushed his hips into yours, burying his dick into you before pulling back, leaving only the tip inside. He repeated the process at a steady, slow rhythm—tortuously slow, at that—until your back was arching, hand in his hair sliding down to his shoulder blade as the long, coffin-shaped nails dug into his soft skin. The chain that you’d noticed earlier tapped against your cheek, the feeling provoking you to throw your head back against the pillow.

His hand slid up your front, fingers curling around to the nape of your neck and thumb resting under your chin once again, pulling your head back up as he quickened his pace, driving into you with more force. Every inch of his thick cock slid smoothly along your velvety walls, your mouth frozen in its open state as his lips worked at your neck again. And god, you just couldn’t understand what made you hate that guy in the first place. It must have slipped your mind completely.

Upon the first thrust of his hips, he felt just how tight you enveloped him. The immense pressure of you wrapped around his strained length, practically squeezing it. The age-old trick of conjuring up the most repulsive of thoughts seemed nothing but moronic to him in the past, yet for some reason he found himself naming off presidents in his head to prevent from coming so fucking soon. He only wished that he could feel it; really feel it, if it weren’t for that godforsaken rubber that separated him from you.

And he’d make it his mission to do so, whether you lived five hundred miles away or not.

He just hoped he’d last when he finally did.

The hand around your throat closed just slightly, using just enough pressure to threaten your intake of breath without causing any pain. It was delicious. You didn’t have the will to fight it—your body had already submitted to him long before, and there wasn’t much that you could focus on other than the feeling of him roughly thrusting into you, lips marking up one side of your neck while his hand firmly gripped the other.

The sounds of your mixed moans bounced off of the walls and you began to wonder whether anyone could hear it or not; if any of his teammates were close by, walking back to their rooms from the bar. The thought instilled enough fear for you to weakly voice it.

“What if—ah—what if someone hears us?”

“Let them,” he rasped, kissing behind your ear.

“But—”

“God, shut up,” he pushed his lips to yours, swallowing your words, moans, and expletives that threatened to destroy your mediocre attempt to stay quiet. His tongue rolled over yours, low hums reverberating in your mouth and filling your ears.

Finally, he released his hold from your neck, allowing the air to flow smoothly into your lungs once more. The hand reached for yours, roughly threading his fingers between yours before pushing the two forward and pinning the back of your hand to the headboard behind you. You let out a whimper at the sudden contact but quickly gripped his hand with a matching force to his as he hit the sweet spot inside you and a familiar pit in your stomach formed.

“Close,” you panted, back arching off of the bed and forcing your front to press firmly into his.

“I know,” he told you, grip tightening as the taut line in your stomach snapped.

His mouth enveloped yours again to swallow your noises, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. Your inner walls constricted around his length as you hit your climax, nails digging into his back as you grasped desperately at him for stability, support—any sort of strength that he could provide you with. And he did, grunting sporadically as he fucked you through your second orgasm, thrusts growing sloppier.

It wasn’t long before he twitched inside you, hitting his own peak and letting out a deep moan. Your name—to your surprise—left his lips in a slurred form, repeating it softly as if it were a hymn. Sweat coated your forehead, droplets dripping slowly down your face, and the frontward strands of your hair had grown wet. His curls dripped with his own sweat as his lips hovered just centimeters above yours, warm breath fanning your face and gaze aligning with yours.

You finally swallowed, “Wow.”

“Mm,” he hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, hand letting go of yours and gently running up and down your side.

He waited a moment and carefully pulled out, the action drawing your eyes shut before he slipped off the used latex and disposed of it. You adjusted yourself as he did so, ridding the bed of the towel and briefly cleaning yourself up before you felt a piece of fabric hit your arm. You looked down to see a large, black t-shirt on the bed and grabbed it, quickly slipping it on as he walked back over. He motioned you under the sheets and you silently obliged.

Your back pressed against his chest, chain pressing into the skin as an arm wrapped around you and a hand flattened on your stomach. His other fingers pushed your hair to the side, exposing the skin to his eyes, and he saw the faint marks his fingers left on your neck. A pair of lips brushed against your ear and the soft rasp of his voice returned.

“You know, that’s a Bruins shirt,” he teased, scruff grazing your damp skin as his lips connected with your shoulder.

“Mhm,” you flatly responded.

“Going against your word pretty fast, eh?”

“Yeah, well,” you started, nuzzling back into him. “I told you I hated you and ended up in your bed, so,” you turned to him slightly, “unreliable source.”

He chuckled softly and brought his fingers up to brush your hair back, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “Night, Marner.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, and he laughed one final time before closing his eyes and relaxing into you.

So, against everything that you stood for just hours before, you fell asleep in Trent Frederic’s arms without much forethought. In his shirt and his bed, effectively leaving your friends behind because they’d for some odd reason just slipped your mind completely.

And when Trent woke up the next morning, he was no longer in your company, much to his dismay. Any trace of your presence the night before had perished, down to the towel on the floor. But there was one thing—one saving grace that caught his eye as he scanned the room.

A piece of paper on the nightstand with a phone number scribbled on it and a small note below it that read,

“For the next time you’re in Toronto.”

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