#I feel like there’s more things I should tag but don’t know what so just send me an ask if you know-

[vodika-vibes]

hi hi! for your follower event, can i request hunter with peridot or topaz? either one, you can pick! maybe something fluffy on pabu or the marauder?

This Love

Summary: There’s not a lot of space on the Marauder and most of the time Hunter bemoans that fact. Sometimes, however, he loves how little space there is.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Word Count: 785

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Warnings: Uh...suggestive at the end.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @clonethirstingisreal (tagging you because Hunter took over this story and I think you'll like it)

A/N: So this was supposed to be soft and sweet, and it still is. But someone added some chili powder to the sugar giving it a little kick at the end. Sorry.

The Marauder is a small ship.

Originally designed to carry four men, it now carries five men, one woman, one child, and a dog.

And while Hunter would be the first person to say that he’s thrilled to have his family around him, sometimes the lack of privacy is…annoying. It means that he doesn’t actually ever get any alone time with her, his cyare.

Well, sort of. The lack of space means that he gets to share a bed with his cyare every night. Simply because there’s nowhere else for her to sleep. And while she probably could have shared Omega’s bunk, Hunter is more than happy to be able to sleep with her pressed against his side. 

Even better, she put her foot down and made little curtains to give all of the bunks some privacy.

Originally it was just for Omega, but then Crosshair wanted one. And then Echo. 

And in the end, she plopped herself on a crate in the cargo bay and sewed enough curtains for everyone to have one. And then she bullied Tech into adding curtain rods to everyone’s bunk.

It’s the closest thing to ‘“privacy” that they’ve ever had.

Taking her with them on the Marauder was probably the smartest thing they’ve ever done. Even if she does have more enemies than a woman her age should.

Hunter’s gaze drifts from the ceiling of his bunk, to the woman nestled against his side. They’ve long since worked out that Hunter sleeps better when her back is against the wall and he’s able to act as her shield, even while in the safety of the Marauder.

She stirs, as though she can feel his eyes on her, and blinks sleepy eyes at him. It’s really too early to be awake, for either of them, but Hunter just smiles at her and reaches over to brush some hair out of her face.

“Morning,” He murmurs as he allows the pads of his fingers to drag lightly down her cheek.

“Mmmorning,” She shifts so that her head is resting on his shoulder and she rubs her nose against his neck, “What time is it?”

“Early.” He replies as he lightly shifts so that he’s laying on his side and facing her, smiling apologetically as her head falls back to their shared pillow, “You can go back to sleep.” He lightly trails his fingers down her bare arm, a small smile pulling his lips up as she shivers under his touch.

“With you looking at me like that?” She asks, her voice hushed.

Hunter chuckles and shifts one more time, until he’s half laying over her, “I’m not looking at you in any specific way.” He murmurs as he presses his forehead against hers.

“Are you sure?” She teases, the exhaustion slowly leaving her gaze as Hunter allows his fingers to trail over her body.

“This is how I always look at you.” He confirms. 

Her arms come up to circle his neck, and a light tug encourages him to press his chest against hers, pinning her to bed beneath him, a pretty smile crosses her lips, “Good morning, Hunter.” She whispers.

Hunter chuckles and lightly presses his lips against her jaw, before dragging them, slowly, to rest under her ear, “It is a good morning,” He agrees, “You know, I’ve been toying with letting you get enough money to buy a bigger ship. But I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t share a bed with you.”

“Who says that we’d have to stop sharing,” She murmurs, her head tilting slightly to allow him more access to her neck, “Between me an’ Tech, we could get enough money to get a ship with private rooms-”

“Tempting,” Hunter lavishes the spot under her ear with lingering kisses and nibbles for long enough that she releases a heavy breath, and then he moves to press his lips against hers, “I’ll talk to him about it.” He nips her lower lip, “Last thing you need, cyar’ika, is another cartel after your head.”

“I’m not worried, you’ll protect me.” Her fingers tangle in his hair and she tugs lightly, though even that light tug was enough to knock the breath from his lugs.

“Kriff, you can’t do that cyar’ika,” Hunter rasps, “My vod’e are on the other side of the curtain.”

Her lips curl up into a teasing smile, “Well then, you’d better be quiet. Hm?”

He groans quietly. “Ka’ra, I love you.”

Her smile widens, and she lightly kisses his jaw, “I love you too. And, when I’m done this morning, you’re not going to remember any basic.”

And Hunter grins as excitement heats his blood.

Stars, he really is a lucky asshole.

#star wars #tbb #vodika vibes 500 followers celebration #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[lezabeththetheodoraimposter]

“no one can know I can tell what people will manifest as!!” why not? ability detecting is basically torture. u could save sooo many elves so much wasted time. and just how do u think the neverseen will use this against u?? it’s literally useless to them. but it is useful to the elves. like SUPER useful. people can spend their whole lives training w their abilities before they even manifest. like omg keefe cmon

edit (I put this in a reblog but don’t feel like reexplaining it so I’m putting it here)

I get what ur saying about Keefe not wanting the council to exploit him and that having all those ppl go to him but I really think that’s the only good reason which is still a very good one bc it’s about what HE wants (but also think of terik who did it for a bit then stopped but occasionally does it for some people) tbh the only good reasons are Keefe just not wanting to and that’s fair. but honestly I’m talking about the use of the ability and how in the grand scheme and when Keefe is in a better mental place that it can be SOOOOOO useful and like when he’s past all this and is happy and healthy then I would say he should tell ppl about it even if he doesn’t open up to “readings”

with a ability training thing that was one of my main points (tho I did put it in the tags and those go away when u reblog 😒) but ability training is literally TORTURE. like they put these like 11 year old kids in burning hot rooms for hours hoping to trigger a froster… like that’s soooo unethical idk what the councils reasoning for that is. it’s literal child abuse and I’m not even kidding. its brushed off but omg wtf. and imagine going through all that only to discover you were talentless and all that was for nothing. like that would suck

and for the talentless. keefe not wanting to tell ppl they are talentless is a very valid and good reason, but aside from that I think his talent would be more helpful. bc it would give talentless ppl more time to grow up and adjust to the predugist (hate bc I can’t spell 😭) against the talentless. bc even though they would have to deal w it from birth, isn’t that better than living a normal life w friends then BAM one day ur talentless and all of ur friends stop hanging out w u. like ur WHOLE world would be flipped and it’s better to give the talentless more time to adjust to it imo.

also the schooling thing u meantioned is another reason knowing ur talentless form the start would be helpful. BECAUSE THE TALENTLESS ARE PULLED OUT IF FOXFIRE WHICH IS SOOOOO MESSED UPP. like they go to foxfire for like 3 years then the council is like “haha no ability? sucks for u lol! go off to a different school where u know no one and make different friends yk just forget ur whole life up to now haha” like WTF. (honestly the bigger problem here is how the talentless are treated but we already know that has to change so this is about how keefe can help).

also it could give “bad match” couples where one of them is talentless (like Kesler and juline) comfort to know their kid isn’t talentless. And if their kid is talentless then it saves them years from worrying over it and the suspense of it all. Also I just think knowing ur ability from childhood and being able to train for it before u even manifested would be soooo helpful

but in the end of the day yeah, keefe just not wanting to is the biggest thing. and I might be remembering incorrectly bc I haven’t read the book in forever but I remember something about keefe thinking he accidentally triggered the triplets abilities which would be more problematic but idk if I’m remembering it wrong. but I do think like years after kotlc ends (or when ever he feels ready) keefe should defo start using his ability for good. like it doesn’t have to be everybody. it can just be kids of q talentless parent(s) to help their parents out yk bc if two telepaths have a kid then it’s obvi going to be a telepath u don’t need keefe to tell u that

also the main point of the pre-editted post was about how he doesn’t want the NEVERSEEN to know bc he thinks they might be able to use it against his friends. like how. literally how? what use is it going to do them.

#bro it’s ur not special 🙄🙄 #but seriously think of how much it could help people #I mean yeah they could tell who would be talentless then but that means the talentless won’t have to go through ability detecting for nothi #like and they wouldn’t have to go to foxfire only to be kicked out and wil have more time to adjust to the fact they don’t have an ability #it could also save a lot of “bad match” couples years of stress over if their kids will develop #keefe sencen #kotlc fandom #kotlc

[myreia]

15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well!

thanks for the tag, @thevikingwoman and @bearlytolerant, ty frens!

tagging: @roguelioness @lilas @galadae @ellstersmash @fourteenthz

@tsunael @birues @ardberts @gatheredfates @anneapocalypse

@impossible-rat-babies @coldshrugs @gefiltefished @consulaaris

sorry if you've been tagged before, I have... lost track of who has done what. 😂 No pressure, ofc! 💖 tags also for anyone else who would like to share their writing! Feel free to tag me even if I didn't tag you or even if we're not mutuals, I'd love to see what you're working on!!

These are from published (and one unpublished) ffxiv fics. Because a lot of my favourite Aureia lines happen within the context of banter, I had a hard time deciding what to cut and where.

— 1: Far From Happenstance [ARR]

“What’s that thing on your arm?” “This? Ah… well… Perhaps this conversation is best saved for later, perhaps in a less conspicuous place?” “Or we could have it now. Your choice.”

— 2: Uncertainty [ARR]

“Tailing unsuspecting women about the city is nothing to be proud of.” “I have done nothing of the sort! Our meetings have been no more than happenstance, a quirk of nature drawing us to the same spot at the same time. I assure you, Aureia, I am not following you—” She stifles a snort, laughter tugging at the corners of her lips. “Oh…” He blows out a breath. “Oh, you’re joking? That was a joke. You have an unfair sense of humour…” “Don’t make yourself such an easy target next time.”

— 3: To Ash and Ember [ARR]

Lahabrea stares at her, startled out of his victory, mouth twisted with contempt. “How—” Aureia raises a hand, palm sheathed in blinding light. “Get the fuck out of him, you bastard.”

— 4: Sand and Stone [ARR]

“This is good for us,” she says quietly. “The Scions, I mean. We’re exposed here. Ascians, Garleans… it’s only a matter of time before they try again. Mor Dhona will afford us some means of protection we’ve lost.”

— 5: Bitter Frost [ARR/HW]

“You press on,” she says after a moment. She cups her palm between them, subconsciously pulling on the aether around her. A faint flame sizzles to life, warming her fingers. “Guilt can only carry you so far before it bleeds you dry. Just know that the next time… the next time will be different. Better.”

— 6: Divergence of the Heart, Chp 5 [HW]

“I don’t care what they say about me. I’m a hero to some, a villain to others. I can live with it.” “You should not have to. If there was a way—” “Please, Aymeric, I’m begging you not to draft a new statute on my behalf. You can’t decree change and expect centuries-old beliefs to shift overnight.”

— 7: Divergence of the Heart, Chp 7 [HW]

“Happiness? What makes you think I’m happy with this? With any of this?” “You’re the Warrior of Light. Defender of Eorzea and a beacon of hope. Blessed by Hydaelyn and beloved by all. What possible reason could you have not to be?”  “Oh, fuck you.”

— 8: Divergence of the Heart, Chp 8 [HW]

She blinks. It shouldn’t be more simple than that. Does he not comprehend why this is so profoundly embarrassing? “And..?” “And how would this fact be of such radical importance that it would be the sole cause of a change in my opinion of you? Do you believe it so crucial to your identity that I should judge you differently for it?” “No, I don’t think that at all. I suppose I feel I’m… a failure, somehow. As a person.”

— 9: For All the Truths Left Unspoken [HW]

“Oh? Because you seem a little haggard, Thancred. Why don’t you look me in the eye and tell me what time you went to bed last night. Or if you went to bed at all, for that matter.” “It is not your concern—” “No, but you could have at least done the decency of admitting what was going on before you started fucking my friend.”

— 10: A Question of Desire [HW]

She cuts him off with a kiss. [Aymeric] groans softly, leaning into it, and she laughs with delight. “Save it for later,” she murmurs against his mouth.

— 11: Bound by Faith, Chp 2 [ShB]

“Under pain of further admonishment, I told her what I could.” “Nothing unfavourable, I trust,” she says drolly. “Who do you take me for, Aur?” “An idiot, if I’m being honest. Next question?” “…stumbled right into that one, didn’t I?” “Yes.” Her eyes sparkle with fondness. “You did.”

— 12: Bound by Faith, Chp 2 [ShB]

“There. That’s it. Aureia was a name I took by chance. Not because I wanted it, but because I needed it. An alias intended for Ul’dah alone, one I intended to relinquish the moment I could escape the city. But then you called me Aur and it… stuck.” She hesitates, her voice breaking. “I don’t know why it felt right, but it did. You gave me a name, Thancred, without even realizing that that was what you were doing.”

— 13: Bound by Faith, Chp 4 [ShB]

“They don’t hurt. At least, not like this. Sometimes, with astral fire…” She closes her eyes and swallows hard. “He did something to me, Thancred. Whether it was his intention or not, he left a mark that is more than skin deep. Like a part of his aether was seared onto mine. It makes me powerful, yes, but… my magic is not always controlled. It’s never been the same since then.”

— 14: Untitled Post-5.3. Fic, Chp 2

She glances at him and finds him glaring at her. It’s not a real glare—behind the dark look and mock exasperation is a knowing smile. “She’s taken full reign of the apartment. Mess everywhere. Looks like a tempest went through the place.” “Far too easy to imagine that.” “I don’t know where she gets it from.” “Oh, I know for certain. That’s the influence of your bad habits, not mine—” “I—listen here, you ass—” “Oh, an ass, am I? Bit early to deteriorate to name calling, no?”

— 15: Untitled Post-5.3. Fic, Chp 4

“Aur… that suite I mentioned earlier… I was quite serious about it.” “The suite or the sex you want to have with me in it?” “The whole matter.” She pauses, holding the soup out to him. “You should finish it,” she says quietly.

#aureia malathar #writing tag #oc tag

[chicgeekgirl89]

Chapter 2 is Here!

Tagging: @lemonlyman-dotcom and @kiwichaeng

T.K. stares directly into Paul’s eyes without blinking. His face is completely neutral, his body still. There’s no possible way—

“Got any eights?”

“Damn it Paul!” T.K. explodes, throwing a card down on the table that Paul sweeps up victoriously. “You have to be cheating!”

“Not cheating,” Paul says, a smug smile on his face. “Just very good at reading your tells.”

“I don’t have a tell!” T.K. gripes.

Paul places his eights on the table, spreading them out so everyone can see. “That’s what you think.”

“This game is not fun when you’re losing,” Mateo says sadly, looking at his hand, which is very full of cards.

“Marj, you got any fives?” Paul asks and she rolls her eyes as she hands them over. “Ooooh I am never doing dishes again!” he says happily.

Despite his annoyance at his teammate, there’s a spiral of happiness swirling through T.K. This feels normal. It feels good. The last year has been hell, but he finally feels like he can breathe again.

Leaving New York for Austin had sucked. In a lot of ways it still does. But he’s been going to meetings, going to therapy, and having the 126 at his back has helped a lot. The world still seems grey, but that’s an improvement over the black sucking hole his life had become after Alex rejected his proposal and sent him spiraling toward the grave. 

Oddly enough, the thing that helped the most was getting shot. That had also sucked, but the way the team had rallied around him after has helped to sharpen the edges of the fuzzy world he’s been living in. They care. They love him. They’re family.

And now he’s finally back on active duty. He’d shown up last week to his first shift and found a banner and a cake and decorations all over his locker. For a moment the world had flickered into color again, just a flash of what life could be if he was, you know, happy. It had gone away as quickly as it had come, but it had given him just a tiny bit of hope. Like maybe things could be okay again. Maybe he could be okay again. 

Paul has finally run out his turn and Marjan is trying to get Judd to give her nines that he obviously doesn’t have. T.K.’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, frowning at the unfamiliar number on the screen.

Random Number

[8:32pm] Hey, I had a good time the other night. Would love to hear more about that trip to Croatia sometime.

“Well that’s a face.” His dad’s voice cuts through the ribbing of the game as he joins them at the table, an espresso in hand. “What could possibly be in that text message that’s got you looking like that?”

“Some random person texted me the other day and they just did it again,” T.K. says. “Must be a wrong number.”

“You sure?” Mateo asks. “One time I thought I was getting random texts asking me on a date and I kept deleting them. Turns out it was my dentist reminding me of the date of my appointment. I missed it and they charged me like a hundred bucks.”

“Yikes probie,” Marjan says with a grimace, shuffling through her cards again.

“It’s not my dentist,” T.K. tells them.

“Just ignore ‘em,” Judd says. “No point in wasting your time wondering. Delete the text.”

“Or text back and ask who it is,” Paul says. “Could be a Nigerian prince who thinks you’re very beautiful and will give you many riches if you just send him a check for a thousand dollars first.”

“Shut up,” T.K. says with a roll of his eyes. 

“Just text them back. They should know it’s a wrong number,” Owen says.

T.K. considers this then starts typing.

T.K.

[8:34pm] Who is this?

Random Number

[8:37pm] Carlos. From the bar. We kissed, remember?

Carlos? T.K.’s mind goes completely blank. He’s not sure he’s ever met anyone named Carlos in his entire life. And he definitely hasn’t been kissing guys in bars lately. Things have been…incredibly dry in that department. Getting shot sort of sucks the libido right out of you and so far he hasn’t had the energy to try and find his dating mojo again.

He frowns and types back.

T.K.

[8:38pm] I don’t remember kissing anybody at a bar recently…

“T.K., your turn,” Judd prompts him.

“Sorry,” T.K. says, watching distractedly as three bubbles pop up on his screen and then looks hurriedly at his cards. “Marj, any aces?”

“Go fish.”

He grabs a card from the pile and adds it to his hand then glances back down at his phone. Holy hell.

Whoever this Carlos guy is, he’s sent a selfie and he’s hot as fuck. T.K.’s eyes take in dark, wild curls and a set of broad, muscled shoulders. Below that is a six pack worthy of an Oscar that tapers to a cut V along this guy’s hips, disappearing into his low slung shorts. His pecs are so defined they look photoshopped. He’s gorgeous. T.K. has never seen anyone like him.

“Whoa.”

T.K. startles when he realizes Marjan is leaning over his shoulder so she can stare at his phone. “Who is that?” she asks, nearly as awed as he is.

“The guy that’s been texting me,” T.K. says, trying to cool the blush that’s heating up his face. He’s not even sure why he’s blushing. It’s just a picture. 

“Ooh lemme see!” Mateo gets up in a flurry of cards.

“Hey! Aw hell,” Judd says, throwing his hand down, the game now ruined.

“Damn. That guy is BUILT,” Mateo says. “Text him and ask him what his workout routine is.”

“Better yet, text him back and ask him out,” Paul says, crowding in behind T.K.’s chair. 

“I’m not going to ask him out,” T.K. says, pushing the words past his throat and wishing he’d chosen somewhere more private for this. “I’ll just tell him I’m not whoever he thinks I am.”

“Are you crazy?” Marjan asks, shoving his shoulder. “Who cares if he thinks you’re someone else? That man is gorgeous. If you don’t do something about it, you’re stupid.”

“I agree,” Paul says.

“Me too!” Mateo pipes up.

“Do I get a vote?” Judd asks.

“Well apparently everybody else does, so why not?” T.K. huffs.

“I vote we get back to this game and stop gawking over some guy’s picture.”

“I believe the kids call it a ‘thirst trap’,” Owen says, joining the throng and peering down at T.K.’s phone. “It’s mean to attract potential sexual partners by increasing desire.”

“Okay thanks Dad,” T.K. says, pushing his chair back and forcing them all to scatter. “I think I’ll handle this on my own.”

They all protest as he heads to the bunk room, but he ignores them, grateful when the door closes and there’s nothing but quiet. 

He sinks down onto his bed and studies the text again, pulling the photo up and zooming in a little, his eyes drinking in perfect bronze skin and muscles. God. Whoever this Carlos thinks he’s texting is extremely lucky. T.K. reluctantly texts back.

T.K.

[8:49pm] Hey, sorry, I really have no idea who you are.

Hot Guy Carlos 

[8:50pm] This isn’t Deacon?

Deacon? T.K. snorts. What a pretentious asshole name. Then again, Tyler Kennedy isn’t exactly your standard Kyle or Chris either. But good to know Carlos is as gay as he looks.

T.K.

[8:51pm] Nope. I’m T.K.

He sends a selfie for good measure. One where he knows he looks hot. He’s wearing his AFD t-shirt and his eyes are doing that flirty sparkle thing he uses to drive men crazy. Because if Carlos is going to start texting the real Deacon instead, T.K. would at least like him to know what he’s missing. 

Three little dots pop up and second later a text comes through.

Hot Guy Carlos

[8:53pm] Oh my god. I’m so sorry.

T.K.

[8:53pm] No worries. 

And that’s the end of it. Right? Because when a random person texts you and you graciously explain that they have the wrong number, you don’t continue to text. No matter how breathtaking they are.

T.K. pulls up the photo again and his heart clenches in his chest. Everything around him seems grey, but this photo is stunning technicolor.

He saves it to his camera roll.

#Tarlos #Thirst Trap Thursday #911lsfic #Tarlos Fic

[wybienova]

dream visit (nostalgia) - a 2nd anniversary katfl comic

#wooo wooo yayyyy uayyy happy anniversary #happy birthday elfilin and elfilis my beloveds #kirby #elfilin #fecto elfilis #idk if i should tag this as forgo #katfl #LOTS of talking abt this piece in the tags below #i wanted to do some kinda thing and I got this idea for a comic #so i just kinda went in and did it messy #not really worrying too much about how it looked #and I like how it came out I think #even if elfilin looks kinda bad at some parts #kind of a sequel to my old dream visit post? #that one I gave elfilis/forgo the tunic script but I didn’t feel like doing it this time #this one i was kinda thinking about like. ok #identity and stuff and how it differs for them #i know forgo and elfilis are 2 separate entities #but i like drawing elfilis #so i think in this dream scenario where they can kinda be whatever #they’d show themself as elfilis #because that’s what they are trying to become again anyways #and really elfilin is only a small part of the whole #so forgo IS far more ‘elfilis’ than elfilin would be #similarly they just keep saying ‘i’ whereas elfilin sees that form and thinks ‘we’ #forgo being kind of self centered: they don’t need elfilin to achieve their goals #that being destruction which elfilin would inhibit #except they do to actually become elfilis again #idk whatever I should stop talking #wybs art

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

#i have to sleep a lot. i’m at the point where functioning requires 8 hours of sleep if not more #I should probably be getting 10+ but i’m a student and i work so 8 is the minimum. but then also getting ready for bed is a whole process s #the whole thing can take 10-12 hours depending how much im sleeping. just to make sure i can do anything #that is time in my day i cannot use for anything else. it’s not ‘oh but i can push through it’ because i can’t without spending the next da #lightheaded and nauseous and vaguely dizzy and with such intense brain fog I can’t think with my fatigue so bad i genuinely don’t know how #get myself to work a lot of days. my abled peers don’t have to deal with this at all. they have unlimited study time if they want to #and yeah it is a choice i’m making that’s true i could just not do. except i would lose my job and fail out of college because i would not #be able to get to classes or do my homework or think. but being told ‘but you are making choices about your life’ when i have lost so much #of what i used to be able to do because i am spiralling down and continuing to get worse is so. #literally last year i would wake up at 6:30 and then go to school till 3 and then go to my internship until 10 and get home at 11 and be in #bed anywhere from midnight to two in the morning and then wake up the next day and do it all again. i graduated with a 3.9 gpa and made it #into my top college while dealing with my cancer symptoms and then the two surgeries about it #but now i lose half my day to just making sure i can get out of bed. i can’t go anywhere because my body is physically too exhausted #any extra time goes into doing homework or occasionally time to myself #not decimating my health by doing minimum body care responsibilities isn’t freeing. occasionally i have a good day which is freeing but tha #usually goes into just. other things outside class or work or eating. I don’t go do something for myself or go do something fun on good day #because I still can’t. good days just mean i don’t want to lie down on the pavement when i’m going somewhere #I just. I don’t magically have control over my life because i try to get enough sleep. i lose half my day to doing that and ultimately it’s #just a bodily function that would have to happen anyway #this is a vent post im just having a really hard time right now because it feels like im in exponential decline. it was nowhere near this #bad last semester. my grades are tanking and i have no free time because anything outside of sleep is either work or school #vent tw #yall can rb this just ignore my tags completely #disability #chronically ill #i keep trying to explain to people how pots works because that’s all logical but there’s no way to explain what it’s doing to my body or ho #i feel all the time. the last time i felt this bad was when i had a bad flu or immediately after surgeries because i don’t react well to #anesthesia and always come out of them feeling like shit. and now i just feel like this all the time and it’s only getting worse #I can’t even stay up late anymore because my body feels like it isn’t counting the sleep even if I get 8 hours #I can deal if I have a free day the day after but that just leaves Friday and Saturday nights and I usually still have to do homework

[me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink]

sometimes I’m scared that other people only think my outfits eat when they emphasize my waistline and make me look skinny and not when it’s an outfit that I put a lot of care into because it’s another form of expression for me

#silv's back on her bs #like I know I probably sound like ‘boohoo it must be so hard for other people to think you’re skinny’ but I just mean that like. #I’m really proud of the outfits I put together #I like my style and I like how I’ve spent the last couple years exploring with it and letting it be another extension of myself #and I’ve created a (very small) rep around having cool outfits #but the other day someone complimented my outfit and don’t get me wrong I felt nice that day #but it was literally just low rise sweatpants and a cropped tee (ie heavens forbid I had skin showing and my stomach was out) #like was it cute? sure but it definitely wasn’t an Outfit #and I got a lot more compliments because on it then I do on a normal basis #and idk. I wasn’t the biggest fan of that #and I’m scared that I’m also starting to use it as a crutch when I’m putting clothes on before I leave #like the other day I was putting an outfit together and instead of reaching for something that I think is really cool and being creative #I was genuinely met with a wave of like ‘okay but how attractive am I gonna be if I wear this’ or ‘would other ppl think I look good’ #which is FUCKED #because I LOVE clothes!!!! I LOVE dressing up!!!! and I KNOW that I don’t need to look good for others that beauty and style doesn’t #have to be conventional that there’s so many cool things that lie outside that framework. And I used to be outside of that framework too #but UGH I hate that everyone else’s opinions on MY body are starting to get to me #anyways i feel like this should have a cw but idk what to add #ask to tag #ig(?)

[maxfew]

#i haven’t said anything mostly because i’ve been at work and i’m now getting ready to go out #so i haven’t rlly had time to put together something thoughtful #and i’m as white as they come so my voice is in no way shape or form one of the ones that needs to be amplified #but i hope you guys (my max mutuals) know that not every issue regarding max is some knee jerk fan war sort of situation #like yeah. he should not have said that and i really hope that’s not what he genuinely believes #there are many people who will look at his statements today and NEVER be able to rationalize why someone could support him #and this immediate ‘oh don’t fill the max tag with hate’ just feels tone deaf to me.....idk #like yeah the situation has nuance (obviously) but at the same time it doesn’t #so idk #be mindful #it’s hard to see someone you invest so much emotional energy with be so ignorant #but there are far more important things than your discomfort #what max said today was HARMFUL #i’m happy to hear other people’s perspectives if you’re willing to share #and please someone correct me if i’m wrong on this #the last thing i want is to contribute to these harmful cycles and rhetoric #👍

[pepprs]

omg i was feeling better for like 2 hrs but then i saw a post on here that is like maybe the worst thing ive read all day. and now i am feeling despair again

#purrs #going to close this app and go watch minecraft build videos again bc that’s the only thing that distracts me rn. but it sucks. it sucks so #bad. how easy it is to be knocked down like this by a stupid post and how frightened and hopeless and small i feel. like wtf. and i know i s #said this but it’s like the mindset shift thing i rbed a few minutes ago right? like i am supposed to be the BEACON. i am supposed to have t #the hope and give it to people who don’t have it. but what do i do when /i/ don’t have it. that is antithetical to the entire enterprise. #and it does not bode well for our work working lol. like given what i know i should never ever doubt or fear or anything again. and the #sayings are literally brace yourself the world is broken and we’re braving the storm etc etc but right now all that’s going on in my head an #and heart are BROKEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!! STOOOOOOOOOOORM!!!!!!! HHEEEEEEEELLPPPPP!!!!!! and not like oh! brace. brave. ok yeah i can do that #and to be fair i don’t think anyone is feeling that way ever probably and that’s why you can’t be a beacon of hope if you haven’t known #hopelessness and don’t fight to overcome it every day. but right now knowing i need to be a beacon is only making me feel more hopeless. and #i know the beacon feeling bc ive been there before but idk if this will pass bc like uhmmmmmm… i live in the fucking death trap that is the #usa. but it might but also idk. i just am haunted by 2 things. number 1 that the most basic simplest thi ng s in life like starting a family #of my own and having a stable living situation might be out of my reach bc i was born at the wrong time. and number 2 that especially in the #last 2 years but also always there are such HORRORS happening and yet so many of them we don’t feel and it’s like out in nature the forest i #is still just the forest and it’s like for these birds and squirrels etc they don’t even know there’s a pandemic and nothing abt their lives #has changed in 2 yrs (that has substantially impacted their way / qualify of life anyway). and i know everything in my save tag refutes this #and also that if lia heard me saying this shit she’d say in effect why don’t you go write a poem and calm down. but part of me wants to feel #hopeless i think because there’s a security in feeling doomed bc to fight it takes strength and courage and is maybe scarier. but i am just #exhausted and grieving rn except the grief i am feeling is NOTHING compared to other griefs others feel and have felt. but yeah this is also #day 4 of living here again and maybe by day 14 or whatever i’ll be feeli ng stronger and more normal but the last few days have been so #fucking hard and so much about my life is different in ways that are hard right now. so i have to just deal with that and adjust and mayhe p #plunge myself into a piece of media like i have done w every other major transition in my life and somehow haven’t done w this one yet but t #that might just give me a break from my stupid broken brain and then i’ll come back and be normal. bc today i could barely get out of bed #delete later

[yoongisautumnleaves]

.

#dann i really have nothing to live for im just out here drifting by doing nothing every day #i took the summer off from work but it’s making me realize i am in fact still mentally I’ll and now there’s more things i DIDNT think about #before like ever that keep coming to mind and idk to me it feels like being here is only fun if you are pretty or skinny or conventually #attractive #none of which i am and none of my friends get it and every time i think about talking about it i just don’t because i KNOW they won’t get #it like the feeling of never having been wanted like i don’t even care for men but never getting male attention or having any person be #interested in me has affected me and i always said i don’t wanna get married etc bla bla but maybe that bc i cant ever #see that happening for me bc in my 25 years of life so far it has never #um losing train of thought here very sorry if you read this #im Fine but im not at all and just have nowhere else to voice this without worrying my friends #or seeming like i want attention? idk okay bye #i should prob Tag this with tw idk what for but #tw

[feistyfreaks]

the physical p2 - miguel o’hara

pairings ❀ ⋮ doctor!miguel x shyf!reader

₊❏❜ content ⋮ softdom, sweet tempered mig, dirty talk, genitalia touching, loss of virginity, lube tasting, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, porn with a taboo subject, and nicknames.

note ⋮ i was going to leave it as a oneshot but since you guys were interested for a part two here you have it. i just wanted to say thank you so much for all the likes on my last post, i really do appreciate it. might’ve came out a little short but anyways i hope you enjoy 🌷.

not proofread !

taglist ⋮ for the people who asked to be tagged, thank you for liking my work ➯ @hazelnutbitch, @reverieblondie, @m4dyy, & @pewpunk ➯ wanna be tagged? click the link to join the taglist ♡.

part one.

✧*･ﾟ

you jumped out of your car in a hurry but your foot got caught on the carpet, your weight falling forward as you landed on your palms before hitting the pavement with a painful thud.

you yelped, your hands were all rusty now.

great, as if you needed your morning to get any worse.

you laid there, feeling helpless, but you helped yourself up, hissing at the rashes left on the palm of your hands. you dusted off the dirt from your pants and beeped the car locked. you swerved a corner, dashing into the double doors and swinging them open.

the bell jingled that hung from the door as you jogged into waiting room, “name?” the lady asked, eyeing your messy appearance.

“y/n l/n” you replied shortly, a little out of breath. “your appointment was at nine fifty, it’s past ten.” she clicked her tongue, a little annoyed.

“sorry, i got caught in traffic.” you lied, forcing a smile and interlaced your hands together to appear more presentable.

“it’s okay, i’m sure the doctor is still willing to attend you - just need you to fill this out real quick and then the nurse should call you in.” the lady replied handing you a form. “thank you.” you replied, taking the clipboard with the paper stuck onto it.

you walked past empty chairs and the corner that was the farthest part away from the door. you sat down, your back sinking into the chair as you sulked.

how could you meet his gaze after everything? how you completely made a mess on his clothes because of how excited you got. the thought gave you extreme second hand embarrassment.

“fuck me” you exhaled under your breath, grabbing the pen as you scribbled on the paper aggressively.

first you slept over your alarm, second you threw on a random outfit that didn’t even match, and third of all the only thing you ate was half a granola bar you stuffed inside your mouth before you fell face forward on the road.

you took a deep breath.

‘it’s okay.’ you smiled, trying console yourself.

‘no it wasn’t.’ you frowned.

a couple minutes go by and you hear the nurse call out for you.

“y/n l/n.”

you rose up from your chair not long after, handing over the paper you filled out and walking into the examination room. instant flashbacks hit you all at once from last years physical when you stepped in.

you eyed the room, plopping down onto the bench.

“so how’d it go?” the same nurse from last year asked with a grin. your eyes slightly widened, realizing what she had meant.

“it went well.” you lied, shortening your answer to avoid any further questioning.

“so.. was he nice?” the nurse continued as you stared at her, giving her a look that said ‘i don’t want to talk about it’.

but it seemed like she didn’t get the idea because she was still searching for a response from you.

“he was sweet i guess.” you replied softly.

the room was silent as she finished taking your blood pressure. “all done, here’s the robe - you know the drill and the doctor should be in soon.” she bubbled, giving you the robe that was neatly folded.

“have a good day!” she beamed, heading out the door. “you too.” you attempted to return the enthusiasm, only for it to come out dry. as she closed the the door behind her you slid your heel around and turned a 180 degree angle before getting down to work.

you ripped off your horrendous outfit you threw on earlier and kicked off your sneakers, leaving your socks on as you wrapped the white fluffy robe around your waist.

you folded your clothes like you did the first time coming here, and then you crawled onto the examination table and waited.

your eyes were glued onto the handle on the door as the clock ticked intensely. you could hear your erratic breaths from the inside of your head. you began to think about all the outcomes this situation could end in.

but another part of you was slightly eager to be here again.

you wanted to see him again.

you might’ve or might not have developed a teeny tiny crush on your doctor.

what?

you couldn’t help it alright.

he was just too good to be true.

the loud knock interrupted your thoughts and snapped you back into the realm of reality. and as the handle turned, you immediately sprung up.

yet again you met eyes with the same gorgeous man you met a while back. and as soon as he stepped in he locked the door behind him with a simple click.

“it’s been a while hasn’t it, love?” he spoke, his voice deep and seductive.

you could’ve sworn you had folded right there and then, all over again.

“it has been.” you gulped, choosing your words out wisely as you broke eye contact for a brief moment.

“i thought you wouldn’t come back after all that.” he chuckled softly. “you made quite the mess.”

your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and he couldn’t help but laugh at your shyness. “i’m sorry i-i didn’t mean it.” you murmured, lowering your head.

“no need to apologize baby, don’t be embarrassed about the way your body reacts, besides it’s not in your control.” he replied. you remained silent as you found yourself heating up quickly.

“so how was your morning?” he asks, changing the topic and approaching you ever so casually. his thumb and pointer finger lifted your chin up to get your attention.

oh gosh, and as he mentions it you wanted to rip your hair out remembering how horrible your morning had started off. angry tears formed in the corner of your eyes as all the stress boiled back into your bloodstream as they threatened to drop. so you found yourself rambling to doctor o’hara about how your morning was a mess.

“oh baby, i’m sorry to hear that. you sound so pent up, maybe you could use a hand and let me ease you up, hm?” he cooed understandingly, wiping your tears away.

his comfort and sympathy made you feel better, and you forgot about the doubts you had when arriving. you felt attached to the man as you nodded, not giving much thought to his offer.

he leaned in and gently pecked a kiss to your cheek, his hand reached to caress your arm blandly.

“tell me, what’d you do all year because i spent mine thinking about you none stop.” he whispered, placing wet slow kisses on your jaw.

you blushed at his confession ~ a shiver running down your spine when his hot mouth connected to the warm skin on your neck.

“i visited family.. a-and” you moaned softly, feeling him nip at your neck. “i spent most of it studying and taking exams for college.” you hummed, slowly exhaling.

“that doesn’t sound very fun darling, how about i take you out to dinner tonight and we can go on vacation sometime wherever you’d like?” he suggested, pulling away from your neck to view at the effect he had made on you.

“really?” you asked with a flustered look on your face. “of course, just to see that pretty smile again.” he murmured, squishing your cheek and leaning in and closing the gap between you two.

his lips attached onto yours, the kiss was slow and doting before a hunger aroused in him. the sweet and moderate kiss had vanished and converted into a rough and greedy one.

his hand snaked around the back of your head, pressing you deeper into him as he began to kiss you more vigorously. you let your guard down, becoming weak as his tongue slipped into the submissive of your mouth.

a mewl tore from your throat as you wrapped your arms around his neck. the two of you making out in heat in the examination room.

he bit your lip before pulling apart from you with a cocky smirk, his eyes filled with lust and his lips wet, coated with your saliva. the two of you breathed for air and that’s when you realized the patch of wetness pooling in between your legs.

this time you both were left hot and bothered.

he licked his lips, his eyes hungry with a newfound desire, “do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked, his arm snaking around the small of your waist to roughly haul you into him until your stomach collided with his.

“n-no” you said under your breath, staring up at him with innocent doe eyes.

your robe was slightly falling from your shoulder, and his hand squeezed your thigh playfully. “been driving me insane all this time, y’know how badly i wanted you to squirt on my dick like that?” he growled vulgarly.

you looked at him, a guilt building up in your heart as you hear him out. “wanna have you make a mess f’me all over again.” he whispered, his hot breath fanning your ear sent a static wave throughout your body.

“the things i would do to you if you gave me the chance.”

“i could make up for it..” you offered, wanting to make things right.

a smile crept on his lips.

he pushed your robe apart as his fingers traced your slit. you felt embarrassed and exposed for how wet you were already. “and how would you like to make up for it hm?” he cooed sweetly into your ear.

he pecked another kiss to your cheek as his digit flicked your swollen clit, earning a whine from you.

with his other hand you listened to his belt unbuckle and watched him pull out his thick, veiny cock as he dragged it against the puffiness of your folds. “you could.. use me..” you gulped, looking downwards you watched his tip tease your entrance.

“use you?” he chuckled. “it’s too early for that love.”

“but you could make it up to me by being my cum dump for today, yea?” he purposed, the head teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves.

your vulnerable gaze peered back into his chocolate irises.

“okay..” you breathed, a familiar heat returning to your cheeks as he turned down your offer. you felt more inexperienced than what you were to begin with.

you watched him open a familiar drawer and pull out a cylinder red bottle with a dispenser.

“it’s cherry flavored, that’s why.” he snickered at your confused expression. “lube has flavors?” you asked, now invested in the lubricant. “mhm, wanna taste it?” he smiles, and with that you opened your mouth as he slips his fingers inside.

you swirl your tongue around, tasting the sweetness of the flavored lube that made you hum, your head cocked to the side as his fingers slip out of your mouth. waiting for a reaction.

“it tastes good.” you laugh, merely shocked. “it gets pretty kinky from favorable lubes.” he grinned, pouring the flavored lube onto your heat. and without giving you a heads up he sunk into you with one smooth motion making you moan and grip the bench beneath you.

miguel slowly bottomed out inside you, waiting for you to adjust to his size. his hand traveled to rest at your cheek. his thumb gently swiping across your plump lip, and his thrust was just as soft. the stretch stung, and your eyes slightly watered. he cooed at you, kissing your teary eyes as he waited patiently.

and when you adjusted he began slow and steadily, grinding into you as your mouth hung open. the two of you moaning at the pleasant sensation of penetrative sex.

you threw your head back, your nails engraving into his biceps. he brought his thumb down to rub at your bud, his rough pad sent a new pleasurable wave of ecstasy to shoot through your veins.

your pussy squelched with how much your juices were dripping down his shaft. he threw your leg over his shoulder and positioned himself to hit your sweet spot. his hips rutted into you with more passion, increasing the friction between the two of you as his tip fucked into the front of your gummy wall, angling at your gspot. “that feel good?” he asked, his arms caging your head.

“yes, harder!” you pleaded. his brows were furrowed, dark orbs glinting with pleasure as he plunged into you, chasing both of your highs.

his thumb roughly kneaded your pearl, “i’m close!” you warned, your orgasm nearing faster than you expected. you shook underneath his grip, gushing messily on his cock and lower abdomen. and with one last thrust he pulsed inside you, his tip bruising your cervix as spurts of hot cum filled you up to the peak. your thighs clamped around his sides. his thrusts coming to an end as you both heaved heavily.

your body laid there limb, and he slowly pulled out of you. he cleaned himself up with a cloth, using the other side to clean you up next. once he finished tucking himself back in his pants, he brought your clothes over to you and helped you change. “you may need to reschedule your appointment, think we got a little out of hand.” he chuckled, his hand coming to caress your cheek.

and so that very morning you skipped your exam and instead were sent home with your doctors cum leaking out of your hole.

#feistyfreaks #hornyhour #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fanfiction #kinktober

[joelsgreys]

strawberry

Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader

summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.

He’s fucked you plenty of times before.

But never like this. No, never, ever like this.

He’s relentless.

His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.

It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.

Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.

No, he was pushing you past your limits.

Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.

“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”

“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”

“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”

Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.

“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.

“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”

You had been so certain that you could.

Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”

Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.

You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.

His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.

You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.

Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.

“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”

His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.

The man you belonged to, the man you loved.

Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—

“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”

Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But Daddy, I just can’t—”

You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.

And you really, really can’t.

He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”

“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”

“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”

It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”

Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.

“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”

“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”

Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”

Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.

“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”

“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”

In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.

“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”

“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”

His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”

“For using the safe word—”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”

Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”

“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”

“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”

You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”

“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”

“Really? You promise?”

Joel holds up his pinky.

“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.

“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”

You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”

“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”

“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”

You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”

Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.

You trace his collarbone with your index finger.

“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”

“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”

“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”

He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”

You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”

There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.

Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”

The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.

My good girl.

My perfect girl.

I’m s’proud of you.

I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.

After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.

“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”

You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”

“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”

“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”

Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.

He knows that. Of course he knows that.

It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.

You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.

“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.

“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”

“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”

You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.

“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.

“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.

“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”

You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.

“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.

Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”

You stop him and point to the empty bowl.

“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”

He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.

“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.

“Too late.”

divider credit to @saradika 🍓

#tw daddy kink #tw: daddy kink #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

[cheesit-notes]

PERVY TASK FORCE 141

pervy task force 141 who just can't help but take a peak at their newest recruit, you! (and the things they do.)

tags: mdni!, task force 141 being pervs, touchy johnny, intrusive staring w. simon, power abuse w. captain price, implied coercion for sex in all of them, sort of implied guilt tripping and blame on reader,

a/n: this is a repost from my old account! I wanna change sm of this 'cause I wrote this a while ago but oh well, old memories' sake. never done tags like this so im not quite sure what to write :'>

dirty gaz who’s morals get debauch the moment you enter the picture. he can’t help but imagine you in various positions taking him, all of him. he knows he shouldn’t but god, the way you look, the way you walk, everything you do… its your fault, you made him this way. so how will you take responsibility when you find him all hot and bothered?

touchy soap who can’t help himself when he’s next to you. whether it’s an arm around your shoulder or a hand that’s a little higher on your thigh than it should be; there’s nothing he can’t and won’t do. if you ever do voice your opinion on this, he dismisses it, “it’s just a habit, lass, do it to everyone”. so don’t bother, just let him get away with this, after-all it’s because you look so pretty, yeah?

lieutenant ghost who glares at you shamelessly. he says its ‘cause you tell a lot about someone’s character just by looking at them. but over time, his gaze seems to fall less on your face and more on your body. can you really blame him though? the clothes you wear reveal wonders and yet still leave so much to the imagination, it’s honestly like you’re purposely trying to seduce him! eventually he’ll want to confirm his imagination with the real thing. he needs the confirmation, it’s making him all agitated down there every second you deny him. so you’ll give in and help him, right? take responsibility.

price who gets off of the power rush from the authority he holds over you. he’ll give you some extra tasks, twist it somehow so it’ll make sense why you’re sitting on his lap all obediently. abuses his power over you to get you to do things that he wants you to do. oh, he should feel guilty about the power abuse but look at you! you’re so pretty, he can’t help but get high off ordering you around.

#1k+ NOTES YIPEE #TEEHEE 2k+ NOTES #holy cannoli 3k+ notes #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #captain john price x reader #price x reader #pervy task force 141 #mdni #minors dni #cheesy likes cod?!

[rebeccccccaaa]

Too Sweet

______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::

warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)

author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!

WC :: ~4k

_______________

It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites. 

He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now. 

“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.

“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as  you practically sang his name.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“Yes,” you responded.

“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked. 

“Then why are you calling?” 

You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most. 

Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.

Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him. 

“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically. 

“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though. 

“What are you drinking?” you asked.

“Uh, whiskey. Neat.” 

“Ew, why?” you joked.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too. 

“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.

“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though. 

“Water,” you joked, making him laugh. 

Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips. 

“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him. 

“Yes,” his voice was a whisper. 

You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.

“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.

“No, don’t,” he rushed out. 

“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you. 

“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”

Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.

“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.

“You’re not an elephant.”

And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them. 

“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.

“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.

He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day. 

You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always. 

You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.

He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself. 

He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.

“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.

“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered. 

“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.

“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs. 

“Spencer!” you gasped.

He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.  

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. 

He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you. 

He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud. 

Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that. 

“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.

“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.

“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”

“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.

“Ok, fine,” he stood up.

“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”

“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl. 

He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself. 

“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.

“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.

“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs. 

His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together. 

Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy. 

Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax. 

“Oh god, too much, Spence.” 

“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously. 

“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly. 

When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs. 

“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined. 

“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined. 

“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained. 

“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.  

You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course. 

Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of. 

He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”

“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.

“They will,” you assured him. 

You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe. 

“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face. 

“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”

“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.

“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle. 

Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.

Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place. 

Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time. 

Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp. 

You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.

“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.

“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again. 

Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you. 

“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax. 

“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated. 

You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high. 

Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts. 

“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.

“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink. 

Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before. 

“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”

“I’m close,” he breathed out.

“Fuck,” you cried.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.

You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer. 

“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently. 

He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted. 

“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.” 

“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face. 

Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read. 

Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him. 

“Hey,” his voice was quiet. 

“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing. 

“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back. 

“No, but having you here is enough.”

You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you. 

You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #first fic back!! #hope you enjoyed reading #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #reader insert #smut

[dreaming-medium]

No Contact

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 7.6k

Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort

Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.

A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3

—————————————————————

No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process. 

No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None. 

He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.

Hell, it might even make you worse. 

It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward. 

But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star. 

It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?

You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did. 

He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party. 

He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.

But he wasn’t. 

A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.

Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle. 

For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.

He was the last to know. 

After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.

Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup. 

Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup? 

You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible. 

It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup. 

Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing. 

Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out. 

He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn… 

He never got to see you. 

“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?

“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”

A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”

Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped. 

Does that mean…?

No…

“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“

The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”

Chan was suddenly in a chair. 

When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.  

“It’s not forever, son.”

Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.

Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.

He gets it now. 

The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly. 

Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.

Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?

Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?

“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”

It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort. 

You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.

It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him. 

Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them. 

God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.

How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?

5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift. 

He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to. 

Mice would get to it before you did. 

His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin. 

All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.

It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved. 

Just like him.

It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces. 

He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time. 

Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.

Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of. 

Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together. 

There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his. 

You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM. 

This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return. 

It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much. 

Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now? 

Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before. 

Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago. 

You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you. 

To him too. 

It’s the library where he first met you. 

The same library Chan finds himself in front of now. 

He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside. 

Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working. 

Absolutely not. 

The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful. 

There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet. 

Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were. 

His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves. 

There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it. 

On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face. 

Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option. 

When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head. 

Your eyes met. He was a goner. 

How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you. 

Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.

Maybe you’re not working today? 

No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere. 

Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway. 

He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here. 

His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time. 

Empty. 

You-less. 

If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks. 

What a moment. 

Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?

He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio. 

Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.

“Can I help you find something?”

His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone. 

Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch. 

His throat immediately tightens. 

There you are. You. Beautiful you. 

Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger. 

“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?

You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something. 

Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”

No.

“Yeah.”

You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”

He knows. 

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin. 

Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows. 

You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”

Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug. 

He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.

But—

“If you need anything, let me know.”

You start to walk away.

Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please. 

His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!

“W-Wait!” he says quickly. 

You turn around with a curious look. 

“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”

He knows. You collect different translations of it. 

“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”

With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics. 

He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months. 

You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies. 

Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you. 

The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day. 

Y/N, please. 

“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book. 

Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry. 

“Thank you,” he whispers back. 

You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower. 

From foot to foot, your weight shifts. 

You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?

“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”

It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you. 

You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them. 

Y/N, please. 

“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself. 

Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck! 

Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world. 

Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite. 

He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks. 

He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow. 

Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it. 

He knows everything. 

“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained. 

You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?

“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”

Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes. 

“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out. 

Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments. 

After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper. 

“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”

Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you. 

Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”

Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him. 

Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in. 

Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.

“Chan,” he answers softly. 

“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him. 

Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.

“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth. 

“You too, Chan.”

And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus. 

—————————————————————

A bad idea was going into the library that day. 

An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going. 

And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him. 

And the worst part? You said yes. 

So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date. 

How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how. 

Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings. 

His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother. 

“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything. 

“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone. 

“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous. 

“How are you? Is everything okay?”

“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”

Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth. 

“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”

His jaw clenches. Now or never. 

“It’s with me,” he blurts. 

Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth. 

“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”

He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you. 

“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself. 

“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused. 

She’s right. What if you don’t? 

“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”

Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”

—————————————————————

“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table. 

Yes, you have. 

“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water. 

“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”

He looks back down at the old menu. 

This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town. 

The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late. 

“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu. 

He’s more nervous now than on the first date. 

“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile. 

A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”

It was your favorite. 

“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu. 

His eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“‘Cause of your allergy.”

He stops. 

You stop. 

He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy. 

His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”

Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”

You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”

He definitely did not say something. 

Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before. 

The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.  

You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe. 

A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you. 

Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks. 

You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully. 

“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”

He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused? 

“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out. 

What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you? 

“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick. 

Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?

“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”

He licks his lips and opens his mouth. 

Your phone rings. 

A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest. 

Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”

“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock. 

A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet. 

“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”

Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance. 

—————————————————————

It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park. 

“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”

You already have. 

“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket. 

“Changbin sounds like a blast.”

He was your favorite before.

“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”

And you have. 

A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation. 

Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it. 

With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side. 

You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.

“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings. 

Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours. 

The brightest smile stretches over your face. 

God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.

He can’t help it.

He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk. 

“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease. 

He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”

Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now. 

“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”

“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”

Another laugh from you. 

“Shameless flirt.”

He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you. 

Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe. 

It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago. 

He wants to kiss you so bad. 

Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?

Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop. 

“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin. 

Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident. 

It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago. 

The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features. 

Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch. 

His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up. 

Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that. 

You’re always so enchanting.

Is this a good idea? 

Is kissing you the best option? 

But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?

Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop. 

One look into your eyes quells that anxiety. 

Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside. 

He can’t take it anymore. 

Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.

But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach. 

He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers. 

It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t. 

He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips. 

But he is. 

He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss. 

How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time. 

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers. 

Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again. 

Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose. 

God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good. 

His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer. 

He immediately stops. 

Why is your face wet?

Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression. 

You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?

Your eyes open and you look at him confused. 

“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?

“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.

Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears. 

“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”

Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused. 

Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window. 

Every muscle in your face is twitching.

What’s happening?

“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob. 

Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident. 

Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?

Please. 

Slowly, your hand falls from his. 

Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on. 

He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.

Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own. 

“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time. 

He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore. 

But you do.

“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“ 

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You know him. 

“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”

Chan. Not Channie. 

He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”

His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation. 

Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs. 

“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”

Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over. 

The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less. 

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you. 

You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.

“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”

You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared. 

“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”

Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming. 

“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.” 

How is your voice so even?

Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck. 

He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him. 

“I—“ he starts but you cut him off. 

“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.

“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest. 

More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow. 

“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”

Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest. 

Him. You’re talking about him. 

Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying. 

Nothing has ever hurt this bad. 

You know him. You just don’t know it’s him. 

Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”

Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it. 

You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest. 

That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter. 

“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”

A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling. 

A sob tears from his throat. 

You grip his hand tighter. 

“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat. 

“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”

Oh, god, Y/N.

“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”

He breaks. 

He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm. 

He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you. 

Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist. 

Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.  

Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out. 

You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline. 

Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it. 

Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you. 

“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”

Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms. 

“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”

Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.” 

Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat. 

“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”

Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs. 

Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face. 

“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”

Channie. You called him Channie.

He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair. 

You’re still crying. Both of you are. 

“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest. 

All he can do is cry. 

Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night. 

The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over. 

Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.

You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong. 

“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.

“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”

He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently. 

“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”

Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you. 

"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."

His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.

The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.

It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.

But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.

The burn is soothed.

“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”

His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”

“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”

Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws. 

You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it. 

His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle 

“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”

“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #bang chan #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #bangchan fanfic #bangchan x reader

[tojikai]

Sundered 9: RESOLVE

Pairing: Gojo x reader

• Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 …+

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, mentions of abortion

word count: 7.8k

a/n: sorry, it took so long. i had problems lol mb

You can’t remember at what point everything started going right but you’re not complaining.

 “I don’t think I can continue like this. I don’t think we should continue like this.” 

“Like what?” You looked up at him, a look of worry filling your wide eyes. He stared down at you with an expression you can’t read. You felt his hands trail beside you, before cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips softly. “Toji, was I not-” And he was quick to quell you

“No, Y/N. It’s not on you, stop putting everything on yourself, baby.” He hates that the first thing you think when something fails is your fault. He hates that he’s making you feel like you’re the only one who needs to put in the work. 

After your arguments, Toji’s been thinking that his emphasis on how you’re being pointlessly jealous of a dead person is why you think you’re the only one who has to make big adjustments. That’s probably why you think you have to put in the most effort to make this work.

“Then, what is it? I thought we were doing well, Toji.” The worried look on your face mixed with frustration as you took a step back from him, rubbing your face with your hands. “We are doing well, Y/N.” He was firm with his answer, and you know he’s telling the truth. But why? “We work so well together. But this isn’t the relationship we deserve.” He sighed.

“That doesn’t make sense, Toji.” You pursed your lips, emotions getting stronger. “If we work so well together, then how can you say that this isn’t what we deserve?” You sat on the bed, patiently waiting for an answer.

“We deserve to be in a relationship where we don’t have to remind ourselves how we should be constantly.” Toji mentally cursed himself for putting you in such a situation early in the morning but he doesn’t think he could sleep another peaceful night with everything in his mind. 

“Relationships are things that flow naturally, Y/N. You do not do things just because you have to, or just because somebody told you to do it. You shouldn’t feel like you have to remind yourself what to do.” He breathed heavily, sounding as if he’d been practicing this in his head for a while now. “Is that how you feel with me?” You tried him, only to get the question back.

“Is that not how you feel with me?” Your silence answered his question. There was a pool of hot liquid in your eyes that you wouldn’t allow to fall. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Think of the strain that you’ve been putting on yourself, Y/N. Tell me you had not once thought of letting it all go even just for a second.”

A sob erupted from your throat; one that you didn’t see coming. It’s a thought you always choose to ignore because you really want to try hard for him, for this thing to work. Now, you understand when they say that sometimes it’s more painful to hold on than to let go.

As if getting burnt by holding on to a rope too tightly, hoping that the other end would stop pulling away.

But right now, Toji’s slowly being torn away from you. And you can’t do anything about this unbearable pain that feels like it could tear you apart; limb for limb. You realize that even if he doesn’t pull away, you’d still end up being hurt for this rope that you are holding on to is too far out of your reach. 

“Toji… I don’t know, I thought I found something good with you. And now it just felt like I’m losing all of it like I’m losing—” Toji quickly shushed you, hugging you ever so tightly to him and it scared you. It almost felt like he was letting you memorize the comfort of his body against yours because this was the last time you’d be feeling it.

“You’re not losing me, love.” He consoled you and though, you can’t express it, the words brought you comfort. “I just don’t think we’re meant to be in this setup but that doesn’t mean you’re losing me.” And just like that, the pain was back again.

“Do I not deserve it?” You asked him, almost flinching at your words when you promised yourself you’d never ask anyone that. Toji sighed, taking both of your hands and bringing them to his lips. “Not this. You deserve more than this. You deserve to be genuinely happy without sacrificing anything, without feeling spent.”

You can’t remember, or more like you chose not to carve into your memory how that day ended. The only image you can see in your head is how he cuddled you to sleep, woke you up to eat with him and the kids, and went home. You remember him saying that they could always visit. And you hated yourself for doubting him.

“Mama, look it.” You heard your baby talking to you as she showed you the screen of your phone. It was Toji. It surprised you that you weren’t crying, or hurting as much as you thought you would. Maybe it’s because of the reassurance that you received from him. 

And it’s not something like hoping that you’d be back together again but it’s more of a security that you didn’t just lose such a good man in your life; even as a friend. “Yeah?” You answered, pulling your toddler closer to you just as she started to move near the edge of the bed. “Just wanna know how you're doing.” 

You chuckled, finding it funny that your now ex is calling you, indirectly checking if you’re still crying. It’s normal for him to expect that kind of thing but the difference between this and other breakups is that you actually ended on good terms and with valid reasons, seeking only the best for each other.

“I am a bit ok, surprisingly.” You answered, you heard a sigh from the other end of the line and a tiny laugh from Megumi, probably watching something on his iPad. You looked at your daughter, thinking if she’ll start looking for her little friend tomorrow and how you’re going to handle that. 

“I’m sorry.” You rubbed your eyes, humming at his words. “This is for the best, I guess.” You spoke, remembering how you used to tell that to yourself when you found out that Satoru got himself a new girlfriend; throwing all his promises out the window and choosing to move forward away from you. 

“You know Yui can still come over for play dates, right?” He spoke as if reading your mind. Toji knows of your concern about this matter as you expressed it earlier to him. Yui has spent a lot of time with Megumi and you know how she is with him because he’s her real first close friend.

“I won’t mind if she’ll be dropped off by Satoruf, he could even accompany her with you guys. I won’t mind, really. I know Megumi will ask for Yui.” He laughed lightly, patiently waiting for your answer, only to receive a hum.

“Y/N, you’re free to make decisions now—” You know that he’s talking about your reconciliation with Satoru but to be very honest, that’s not in your mind right now. You might be yearning for that whole family, and you can see Satoru’s progress but that doesn’t mean you can just bounce back like that. 

“I don’t know, that’s not how I really feel, I think  I should focus on building myself as an independent person for now.” You pursed your lips and you could just imagine him nodding his head to your words. “It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen.” You know that Yui needs her father, and you know that if she could talk to you right now, she’d probably wish for the two of you to be together with her.

But you want to know if this thing you’re feeling for Satoru is real or if it’s only because you longed to give your daughter that fulfillment. It’s not a bad thing to want that for her but you don’t know if you can handle another heartbreak for rushing things. “I’ll just let things be for now.” You added, sighing deeply.  

The conversation with Toji went on for a couple of minutes before you said your goodbyes. You know it won’t be like this every night and that makes your chest squeeze but it’d only feel like forcing things if you asked him for that. You’ll move forward. Like you always do. Your child is growing and maybe it’s about time she learns something valuable from you.

—---------------------------------------

“Da!” The little girl squealed as her father entered your apartment. She got up and ran to him, almost tripping on one of her toys. “Careful. I’m not going away.” He picked her up, kissing her cheek. You closed the door behind you, rushing to kick away the things on the floor. It’s still a bit messy because you’re trying to get her ready for the day before you head to work.

“You’re early.” You spoke to him, watching them sit on the couch. “I’m…uh, cooking something. Have you had breakfast?” You bite your top lip as you turn away from them. “I had coffee.” Yui was trying to put a clip on his hair, laughing when she thought she got it done. “Come, eat with us, then.” You picked your daughter up, heading to the kitchen.

“Mama! ‘Gumi?” You put her in her chair, sighing lightly at the mention of her playmate. It has been almost three weeks and you still haven’t told Satoru about what happened with Toji and you. He’s not asking either, but you can tell he’s curious, eyeing you as he enters the small kitchen.

“He’s at daycare. Maybe next week, when Mama’s not busy, alright?” You spoke, placing the food in front of her, and pressing on the plate to make sure that it was stuck on the surface. “Haven’t seen them around.” Satoru cleared his throat, playing it cool as he didn’t want to seem like he was intruding into your “love life.”

“They, uh, they won’t be around so much anymore.” You put the plates on the table, tucking a hair behind your ear as you turned. Satoru pursed his lips, not wanting to pry any longer but the next sentence made his eyebrows raise. “We kinda…Toji and I broke up. So, if not for the kids, we won’t-“ 

“Since when?” If it was before Satoru would probably be thinking about how this is a chance for him but right now, as he sat on that kitchen table, all he could feel was worry. He thinks that you really love Toji and he became your rock during the times when your baby daddy’s acting up.

“Almost three weeks ago. It’s, uh, nothing too heavy. The relationship just became too much.” Satoru doesn’t know if it’s right for him to say “sorry.” He’s scared that it might break you and he doesn’t want to see you cry again. 

He made you cry many times and he hated himself for it. He can’t help but feel like any anger he might harbor towards Toji would be… invalid.  “I didn't think dating when you both already have kids would be so different than when you don’t.” You chuckled half-heartedly. 

“We just don’t think it could stand in the long run, so…” You shrugged, finally sitting down after you placed the glass pitcher on the table. You peeked at Satoru, attempting to read the expression on his face. 

“Look, I know Yui’s always been our priority but if you need a bit of time for yourself, you know you can leave Yui with me.” He cracked his knuckles, not sure of how to help you with this. “You should take a break from work, if you think that’s what you need, I will-“ You placed a hand on his arm, stopping him.

There’s not much he can offer that wouldn’t make it look like he’s trying to take advantage of the situation. That’s the last thing he wants you to think. He thought you were a bit gloomy during the past couple of weeks and assumed it was just a lover’s quarrel or something.

“Thanks. But it’s alright. We’re good, we’re just…not dating anymore.” You let out a laugh, retracting your hand away as you reached for the towel to wipe your daughter’s food-stained cheek. “Megumi and Yui still play together, I mean they’re besties now, right?” Yui giggled at the mention of her friend.

“That’s nice, he’s her first friend.” Satoru smiled genuinely. Aside from Yui’s occasional babbles, Satoru and you ate in silence. Eating together at your home is beginning to become a normal, regular thing now. And for some reason, it doesn’t worry you anymore. 

Getting Yui ready took a bit more time than it should have when she wanted her Dad to pick her clothes. Of course, none of you could say no. You quickly brought out your phone to take a photo of her and her father, holding hands as they stood before the clothes she took out of her drawer.

“It’s chilly. You can’t wear that.” You commented on the shirt she brought out. With a pout on her lips, she continued to pull on her clothes. “We’ll pair it with something. Yeah?” Satoru consoled her, earning a smile from the little girl. “I’ll make the two of you fold all of that.” You joked before turning to pick up a few scattered clothes. 

You checked her bag one last time, counting all the things she needed in your mind. You can hear her laughing as Satoru struggles to put on her boots. She is the happiest when he’s in the house. You fear that she’ll soon start asking about why her father lives in a different house, unlike most kids. 

“You don’t have to worry so much if she left something. We’ll probably be here tomorrow, you know how she is.” Satoru laughed, lifting the child. It’s true that even during the days when she’s supposed to be with her dad, she still asks him to see you. There was one time when they showed up at your work and everybody thought that you’re back together.

“It could be something important.” You sighed, leaning in to give your daughter a kiss. “Be good.” She nodded her head, wiggling her brows in the process, knowing that it never fails to make you laugh. Satoru can’t help but stare, statued by how close you are to each other; paralyzed by the fact that this could’ve been better if he never did what he did.

“Don’t forget the face creams at night, please.” You reminded him, stepping away as you locked eyes. “Of course.” He took the bag, walking towards the door with you trailing closely behind them. “Buh-bye!” She waved at you from her car seat. You watched as Satoru made sure it was locked before closing the door behind him.

“See you in a few days, Mama.” He spoke playfully, and you know that he’s just trying to say it for your daughter but it made your heart swell for some reason, a blush forcing its way to your cheek. This has been happening a lot with him, even when you were still with Toji. You tried to convince yourself that you were just “caught off guard.”

Work kept you busy for the whole day. It wasn’t long until you found yourself on your couch, smiling at the video Satoru sent you. Yui was holding an elephant bowl full of ice cream, focused on the movie playing on the screen. Their matching lilac pajamas made everything more adorable. After sending a reply, you put your phone down.

Days and weeks went by fast. Megumi and Yui played at the park together last week. You thought it’d be awkward but it was pretty much the same with Toji minus the intimacy. He was still chill to be with and he was still very caring towards you. And you admired him for all of it.

“I ran into them at the mall once. I think they went toy shopping.” He spoke, looking over at the kids as they struggled to understand how to make the seesaw work on their own. “Oh yeah, he mentioned that one time.” You replied, before giving a warning to your daughter who’s now so ready to climb the metal board.

Your mind went back to the image of Satoru coming in with boxes and bags, and a little kid trailing behind him, holding on to the hem of his jacket. He couldn’t even carry her because of everything but she was overjoyed, showing off her new stuff. 

“You can’t leave all that here. Her room isn’t big, Satoru.” You sighed, picking your daughter up, “You already have so many toys.” You reminded her but she wasn’t listening at all. “It’s alright, I’ll bring them to my house,” Satoru spoke as he put them on the couch. 

Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever save up enough to get a bigger space for you and Yui. Satoru once brought it up, offering help but you don’t want that. You’re not together, so to you, being able to provide and improve on your own for your daughter is a goal. You trust that things’ll get better for you, even if you’re alone.

“You two working it out?” Toji's voice brought you out of your memory. You looked at him for a couple of seconds, and he just stared back at you, like he just asked the most normal question an ex could ask. “N-no. He’s not even trying, I mean he never even explicitly tried to show any hint. I doubt that any of us are thinking about that right now.” You rambled and he just nodded.

You didn’t mean to blurt out something like that so casually. But in all honesty, that made you more comfortable and less tense about all of this. He doesn’t make you feel awkward at all. He doesn’t make you feel like you’re stuck in your past with him. It’s almost as if he’s just been a friend, a very close one, all this time.

There was a moment of easy silence between the two of you. You can only hear the noises from the other kids and the two in front of you. But it wasn’t long until it was broken by Toji. “He loves you, you know?” You feel like even the sound of your breaths paused. “I’m not saying that you should force yourself to try again with him. I just want you to know that Satoru genuinely loves you.”

Thinking about it now, you realize that you and Toji never really talked like this about your relationship with Satoru before. It’s always just the problems and the past that you always claimed to be only bitter memories now. 

Toji leaned back on the chair, not caring if you were answering or not. He’s good at sensing the atmosphere, and you’re not in a way bothered by the topic. You were surprised to hear it from him, of course, but you don’t feel troubled at all. 

“Satoru and I had a talk once, just the two of us. I was expecting less from him due to how he treated you before.” He crossed his arms on his chest, eyes wandering as he recalled, “But he was so sure with his words, I was kind of taken aback.” He chuckled, and you wondered what his exact words were.

“No offense, but I feel like that was the only time I really looked at him as a man; a grown man.” He laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “I know 'cause I’ve been there.” He nodded, sounding softer and you just know who he’s thinking about. “The resolve; the determination in him even when he knows that it’s impossible.”

“He has to work on a lot of things. He’s got so much to reflect on.” You sighed, unsure of how to react, not because you rejected the information but because it got your heart drumming in your chest. “We gotta grow as individuals. And if we’re meant to be together, it’s…it’ll happen on its own.” You chuckled, swallowing dryly. 

You don’t know if that scares you or excites you for the future. But you know that it’s gonna be so much better than before.

—---------------------------------------

6 Months Later

“Mama why? Mama why?” You heard Satoru laugh loudly at your daughter's words. She’s been repeating the same words over and over since you started getting her ready. Her hair was up extra nice today and she’s staring at her gown hanging near the dresser.

“Mama whats go on? Huh, Mama?” She asked again, sending Satoru into another fit of laughter. “Baby, I’ve been saying. It’s Yui Day today. Your birthday.” You smiled at her kindly, securing the cute hair clips on her head. “I don’t think she’s fully taken any of this in.” Satoru sat on her bed, looking at the two of you.

Her grandfather volunteered to take care of the preparations at Satoru’s house. The helpers arrived early in the morning and Satoru left him there to pick the two of you up and to help get his little girl ready. You’re still in your house clothes and you’re not even a step closer to being ready. 

“Go take a shower, I got her.” Satoru arrived just as you were fixing Yui’s hair. “Okay, the shoes are over there. Put the headband on after the dress so it won’t mess up her hair.” You reminded him as you stood up. “Yes, Ma’am.” The little girl jumped towards him pointing at her dress. You stepped out and got ready as quickly as you can. 

You were supposed to wear the dress you bought the other week. It wasn’t much and you were worried that it might not look that good, especially with the guests that will come over. You didn’t want to look cheap but you wanted to save so you went for something that goes in the middle. 

To your surprise, when Satoru brought Yui’s gown and shoes, he got another set with him. You thought it was for some outfit change but he soon revealed, albeit shyly, that he thought the dress matched the theme of your daughter’s party so he got it for you. It was a designer dress and a pair of shoes. 

“I’d…I’ll pay for this, alright? I can’t just—” He cut you off with a close-lipped smile and a gentle sight. “Y/N, I know it’s hard to accept this but I already had lots of shortcomings with you and Yui. This doesn’t mean anything, don’t worry. I’m not trying to, you know, I just want you to feel your best during our daughter’s birthday.” He spoke, nervousness still clear in his voice.

“B-but you’re free to decline it if you don’t feel comfortable, sorry, I can take it back to the—” This time you cut him off with a laugh, “I’m sorry this is just so… expensive. I don’t know how to feel if I just openly accept it from you.” You placed the box on the table behind you, sitting down in hopes of changing the atmosphere. 

“Okay, then…just consider this as a gift since I, uh, failed to get you one on your last birthday.” He breathed out the last part as if it was a heavy feeling in his chest that he couldn’t push past his lips. It isn’t as heavy as it was to you though.

Your last birthday was painful to remember, probably the worst one you had ever since you were born even if you never had a big celebration your whole life aside from when you were with Satoru. Last year, your birthday was on the same day as Satoru’s co-parenting schedule. 

That time you were hoping that he and Yui would celebrate it with you. But that morning, he came in with Naomi. With hickeys peeking from his jacket, messy hair, and swollen lips, they picked Yui up. You remember your daughter babbling about “Mama day” in a much less understood baby talk that Naomi still caught.

“Oh, is it your birthday? She said ‘mama day’, right?” Her bright eyes shined at you, dimples showing as she smiled but it didn’t lessen the ache in your chest. “Oh, sorry. Happy birthday.” Satoru spoke, proceeding to take his daughter’s belongings. “We should’ve picked Yui up in the afternoon so, they could spend time together.” She suggested, laughing awkwardly.

“What time did you book the Children’s Museum trip?” Satoru halted, his back turned to you. You were about to interrupt, afraid that you were starting to look too pitiful for the lovebirds in front of you and your child. “It starts at 10:00.” She spoke, adjusting the toddler on her hip. “It’s 9:19.” Satoru read his watch, biting his lips with his eyebrows scrunched together.

“We can’t really leave her now, the Children’s Museum isn’t open every day. You can…uh—” He tried to think, turning to you but you can’t take it anymore. “N-no. It’s alright. You—Yui have fun, baby, alright? We’ll go out when you’re back home.” You waved at the child and her smile soothed you. Almost.

“Happy birthday, Y/N, sorry.” Naomi smiled, avoiding your eyes and you hated it. You hated that she felt sorry for you. You hated that they felt sorry for you. “Enjoy your day.” She added, turning around as she urged your daughter to wave again. “We’ll get going, sorry again. Happy birthday.” He spoke lowly, earning a fake smile and a nod from you.

You closed the door before you could even see him put his hand on her waist and guide them to his car. It was supposed to be. That should be the three of you. You wiped the stray tear that fell from your eyes with the back of your hand. That day, you stayed at home, slept until your mother came and brought food, and refused to tell her the story. 

That night you stayed awake, wondering how many falls a heart can take before it turns to dust, never to be recovered again.

“Done?” Satoru’s voice brought you back to reality. Your eyes flickered to the reflection of the door in the mirror. You were about to respond when the door burst open, and your child trudged in, almost falling as she squealed. “Mama! Pretty Mama!” She pulled at her skirt, turning. “Wow, lovely. You’re so beautiful, baby!” You cooed at her as she hugged your robe-covered waist.

“Dada put this. Dada! This!” You can tell how excited she is by how she shows off everything; from her headband to her anklets and shoes. She even shows it to her father even if he’s the one who dressed her up. You chuckled in amusement, all the pain numbed as your eyes focused on the present.

You looked over at Satoru who tries to look everywhere but you. Your hair’s still wet from the shower, and you’re still in your robe, all bare underneath and you can’t believe it took you this long to realize that. “You’re so pretty, how about we take pictures downstairs? Or with your toys?” He tried to convince her, wanting to give you time to dress up.

“Mama come!” She pulls at you, “Mama has to wear her pretty dress too, so you’ll be twins.” Satoru quickly picked her up, smiling at you as her daughter babbled excitedly, allowing him to distract her as he closed the door behind them. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror once more, drying your hair quietly.

Thinking back on what Toji said, you can’t just believe them after everything Satoru has done.

—---------------------------------------

You can feel Satoru’s light touch as the three of you pose for the final picture of the day before the party ends. It has been such a long day. Yui happily walked around, clapping at the guests when they sang her a birthday song; quite the opposite of what you thought would happen. You and Satoru received a lot of statements and questions as you were greeting the visitors too.

“Oh, you’re back together again, that’s great!” His aunt said to which he quickly answered with a chuckle, “I’d love that, but no.” You smiled at the old lady, thankful for the understanding face rather than pushing.

“I knew you’d be back to Y/N!” His cousin winked at you, raising a fist bump which you couldn’t really reject. Satoru nodded his head, glancing at you awkwardly at how loud the man was being  “When did you guys get back together?” He elbowed him like he was so sure of the information. 

“We’re not…really back together. We’re…This is co-parenting.” Satoru took Yui from you. “Say hi.” And that’s how he changed that topic. He met Yui once when she was a baby and to say that he was mesmerized by how much she looked like Satoru now is an understatement. “How did you manage to turn yourself into a little girl.” He and Satoru laughed and you excused yourself to greet some of your relatives who attended. 

“I would be mad but, oh well, anything that makes that little doll happy.” Your grandma sighed, smiling as she hugged you. ��We’re not back together. I’ll bring her here in a bit.” You muttered, pulling at your dress. “That’s a nice dress you have, it looks expensive, honey.” Your mother complimented.

“Yeah, Satoru got it…f-for me. So, uh, we could match the theme. He organized this.” You smiled nervously, worried at how her eyebrows raised. “I’ll be back, Mom.” You added with a little wave before going back to Satoru and Yui who were now looking at you in distress as she got taken by Satoru’s friend.

“Don’t take him back.” was Shoko’s first words to you as you reached them, making the whole table and you laugh. “Stop it.” Satoru grunted, “Give me my kid back if you’re going to be like that.” He rolled his eyes playfully before meeting yours. “He’s still far from that.” You replied, making them laugh again. Satoru knows that you aren’t joking at all.

It’s funny how the people around you have different views regarding reconciliation with him. And you, you don’t want to think of it. Or more like you’re scared to think of it. 

Because you fear that deep in your heart, you still yearn for all of it.

“Yui!” A voice called and when you turned around it was Megumi in his cut little outfit that almost matched Yui’s dress. “Oh gosh, you’re so cute ‘Gumi!” You cooed, hugging the little boy. He would look down at his shirt and back at you as if to show it off. Your eyes wandered around for Toji and you found him speaking to your Mother. You smiled as he waved at you.

“I didn’t see you guys come in.” You spoke as you got close to them. “Sorry, we’re a bit late. He wanted to get another gift.” Toji laughed, nodding at Megumi’s direction who was now walking towards your table with Satoru and Yui. “Thanks for coming.” Satoru encouraged, a little awkwardly.

“Megumi wouldn’t miss his best friend’s birthday.” Toji reached over to fix his son's clothes. You stayed for a bit to talk with Toji and your mom, Satoru took the kids to the photo booth to play with the other kids at the party. 

And now you’re walking the last few of the helpers out the door, thanking them for the smooth flow of the event. Yui already fell asleep on Satoru’s shoulder, just like her little friend. Toji went home with a sleepy Megumi who refused to get carried by his dad and insisted on walking despite the constant stumbling.

Thanking Satoru’s Dad before he heads home, he gives the two of you a piece of advice: “I hope you two are not thinking too much of what to do with what you have.” You both didn’t know what to say. You don’t even get it at first but when he spoke again, it all made sense.

“It will happen if it’s meant to happen. Like before. When you were blessed with this angel.” He softly stroked Yui’s cheek, chuckling when her nose twitched. “Well, that’s all. You’re both doing just great. Satoru, stop worrying about the things with your mom. Leave that to me.” With that, he bid goodbye and left. 

You had to stop yourself from being too curious about what happened with Satoru and his mother. All that you know is that he broke up with Naomi and you thought that she probably tried to stop him, of course. What’s bugging you is the fact that his father had to comfort him about it. Would it be too much to ask?

“Let’s go inside.” He ushered, adjusting his daughter in his arms and patting her head as she wiggled a little before going back to sleep. “I’m glad we hired helpers. I don’t think I can handle cleaning after all of that.” He laughed, carefully sitting on the couch. “I don’t know how celebrities do meet and greets. I feel so drained.” You agreed sitting down on the loveseat.

“I can’t believe she’s three now. It’s like she was still so tiny a few months ago.” His whispers were low; gentle. You could hear all the love in his voice and the tired yet contented look on his face as he gazed lovingly at his child. She could be getting a sibling now, but you fucked around. You caught yourself thinking, biting your lip at the realization of how silly you’re being.

After a short conversation, Satoru decided to put her in her bed. You’re sure that she’ll be awake in an hour or two. You agreed to stay the night here since you considered that Yui might want to open her gifts by the end of the party. She already opened some earlier due to curiosity but got distracted multiple times and ended up forgetting about them. 

“Oh, shit.” You whispered, rummaging through the baby bag with her feet on your lap. You were trying to clean her a little but you ran out of wipes and you forgot to put the extra pack due to the rush this early morning. You carefully placed her feet down to get up and find Satoru. You saw him in his front yard, putting away some things that had been used earlier.

“Does she have wet wipes here? The one in her bag ran out.” You asked him, stepping out of the house. “Yeah, it’s in my bedside drawer, do you mind getting it?” He spoke, carrying a foldable table to the other end of the yard, “Okay.” You found his bedroom door ajar and let yourself in.

Did he specify which one? There are two bedside tables. You went to the closest one, opening the first drawer. You knew you were looking for the wipes and that’s why you came here, you mentally noted that anything in here does not concern you and thus, must not be meddled with. 

But right now you’re staring at the brown envelope with a hospital address and a name with the  “MD, OB-GYN” title plastered on it. You don’t have to have a degree to understand that. You can feel your heart slowly picking up a pace as you think of all the possible meanings of it.

Was Naomi pregnant and they decided to abort it? Did Satoru make her do it? What if he made her do it because of the fact that he still wants to be with you? You can’t really do anything if that’s why but it makes you feel…accountable. Is this why they broke up on bad terms that even his mother doesn’t want to see him anymore?

The envelope was staring back at you and you can’t help but feel like touching it; opening it. You can get your answer right now if you just read what’s inside this quickly. You won’t have to think about all of this anymore. The voice in your head silenced the approaching footsteps and the sound of Satoru’s voice calling your name.

A shadow was cast upon you and the paper. You looked up to see Satoru staring at the envelope with slightly wide eyes. He quickly closed the cabinet, swallowing as he avoided your eyes. “Sorry, I forgot to mention.” He moved away to get the wipes from the other drawer. “It-it’s here.” He walked quickly, urging you to get moving. “Let’s go before she wakes up—”

“What was that, Satoru?” You don’t care how this made you sound as you grabbed his arm preventing him from leaving the room. He wouldn’t have reacted that way; he wouldn’t have disregarded the matter if it wasn’t something to be hidden. Why did he look so alarmed that you saw it? Like you’re not supposed to know about it.

“It was an old test, I forgot to throw it away.” He rasped, staring at your lips; staring everywhere but your eyes. “I know how to read. The date it was delivered shouldn’t be far from the day the test was done, right?” You half blinked, breathing in as you told yourself to calm down. You don’t know how you’d feel if he told you that’s none of your business. 

“Was Naomi pregnant when you broke up with her?” Your voice was a bit more steady, “No.” He sounded small and you could tell that whatever was going on inside his head wasn’t easy to verbalize. “Then, what’s there to hide about it?” You don’t need him to tell you, you could tell that you weren’t supposed to see that.

“I fear that I might be getting a little too overconfident about your feelings for me but—” You lowered your eyes, embarrassed at how that sounded and a bit thankful for being cut off. “She was never pregnant. Sh-she tried…while I was intoxicated. I got her examined.” Satoru rambled, obviously triggered by your words. 

“She what?” You looked at him, brows furrowed and eyes wide, finding it hard to believe the assumption in your head. “I got drunk. She…she tried to…” He walked towards that drawer, pulling out the envelope and the paper inside. 

“Y/N, read it. I couldn't… I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to vent about this to you because that’s all I’ve been doing, I just want to give you all the good now. I’ll try, Y/N, I promise.” At this point, you don’t even know what he’s trying to explain to you but the welling tears in his eyes and the coldness of his fingers against your skin was enough to pull you to him.

The papers were dropped to the floor as you held him to you. His head was bowed down as he cried on your shoulder as if this was the first day he was allowed to cry about this; as if this was the first time he could hold on to someone while the fear, anger, and shame tore him to pieces.

He held onto you as he sobbed his heart out after holding it all in for so long.

He doesn’t deserve this. No matter what he did or said, Satoru doesn’t deserve this. After everything, you can see how much he’s trying. Despite not being promised anything, he’s giving his all. It wouldn’t be easy to forget and it won’t be easy to trust. But the love you feel for this man comes too naturally to be contained.

“You didn’t deserve that…” You hushed him, hearing him blame himself was shattering. Does his mother know? Why did she disappear as well? What really happened? “Satoru, what happened with your Mom?” His breath hitches. The grown man in the room is now in the form of a child, looking for a hand to hold.

“She knew about it.” His cheeks were wet and his eyes bloodshot as he looked up, running his fingers through his hair. You thought there was something wrong that day. But you didn’t think it could be this bad. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want to ruin this day, this is our baby girl’s day, I shouldn’t have-“

“Satoru, don’t talk like that. That’s beyond your control.” His breaths were shaky. You doubt that even his closest friends knew about this. “My dad and I placed a restraining order against them. I can’t look at those people the same way anymore.” His eyes were closed as he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what you’d feel or think if you accidentally found out…like now. I should’ve explained earlier.” He was referring to your assumptions earlier. “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions.” You don’t know how long the two of you were staring into each other’s eyes but a voice took you out of the little world that you share. 

“Mama…” A cute, sleepy voice called out from outside of the bedroom. “I’ll get her. Calm your mind, Satoru. It’s over. We’re here.” You have no idea how big of an impact those words had on Satoru. He almost wanted to cry again, to pull you close and cry to you again. 

To see your back walking out of this bedroom door, but this time with the promise of being on the other side, waiting. 

He sat there for a few more minutes, releasing all the heaviness in his chest before getting up to wash his face. Leaning on the doorframe of his daughter’s room, he saw you putting on her little sweaters as you sat barefoot on the floor. “Gumi sing me.” The child spoke with enthusiasm. “He did? What did he sing?” You encouraged, fixing her clothes. 

“Can you sing me a song too?” He interrupted, walking in to sit down with you. It was all it took for Satoru to forget what happened earlier. Eating at home with the two of you always feels like an answered prayer. After that, you helped the child open her gifts until way past her sleeping hours.

Walking you to the guest room felt like the first time you lived together; awkward yet heartwarming. Of course, no boundaries were crossed. He wouldn’t try. And you won’t allow it. At least he got to wish you a good night and sweet dreams again.

—---------------------------------------

Days, weeks, and months went by fast. It’s already been 4 months since Yui’s birthday and now you’re walking with her and Satoru at a grocery store. “Yui, this is for the stuff we will buy, this is not a stroller.” You explained as she tried to get Satoru to put her in the pushcart. 

He wasn’t supposed to be with you here but it’s Yui’s pick-up day and you decided that you need to get some stuff. Satoru asked if he and Yui could join you since he doesn’t have anything planned except for an early movie night with his little girl. “You’re not a little baby anymore.” She hit Satoru’s chest as he pouted teasingly at her.

“Hey. We don’t hit.” You talked to her sternly, making her put her head on her father’s chest, whispering an almost inaudible apology. “Satoru, do not let her hit you, she’ll get used to doing that.” You reminded him, knowing that he can’t ever scold his baby girl.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied absentmindedly, bouncing the kid in his arms to get her to laugh. These days, you’ve been getting comfortable with things like this. You’ve been getting comfortable with compliments like “Oh you make cute babies” from old people who take a liking to your daughter.

You’ve been getting comfortable with Satoru pushing the cart for you as you look for what you need, reaching for the items on the top shelf, carrying your bags for you, and driving you home as you sit in the passenger seat.

Like right now.

“Her sleeping schedule got a lot better when she changed her vitamins, yeah?” You responded to Satoru with a hum as you chewed on your fries, handing a piece to your daughter as she kicked on her car seat. “Her doctor recommended that. I’m glad it works, she used to get up so early.” The car stopped in front of your apartment.

“Would you like to stay? I’ll be cooking.” You won’t deny that this isn’t the first time you asked, “I’d love to stay.” And this isn’t the first time he agreed. You don’t know why but you didn’t budge from the passenger seat, knowing that Satoru was rushing to open the door for you. You went to your baby and took her inside, not worrying about your things and the groceries you bought.

You can’t remember the last time it felt awkward with Satoru lying on your couch with your daughter. You also can’t remember how he had a pair of spare house slippers for him here. Walking past the fridge, you saw a photo of Yui and Megumi from their recent pool party. 

Satoru came to pick you and Yui up but you ended up staying for another hour. You can’t remember when Toji and Satoru shed a noticeable amount of awkwardness around them. At one point, you even heard them talking about business like they didn’t try to rip each other’s heads off when they first met. 

You can’t remember at what point everything started going right but you’re not complaining.

“Where’s her choccy-juice?” Satoru mimicked Yui’s words, laughing. “I told her we were about to eat in a few minutes but she won’t listen.” Taking the chocolate milk from the fridge, he stood beside you to fulfill his daughter’s request. “She’s not supposed to have a lot of that.” You sighed, “I’ll just let her have a taste so she’ll stop.” His voice sounded so much softer now.

“Dada!” She came running to the kitchen, holding onto Satoru’s leg as she tried to have a peek at what you were cooking. “Wanna see? Here’s your choccy.” He lifted her, letting her hold the sippy cup as they watched you cook. “Hmm…” Both you and Satoru can’t help but laugh at her reaction. 

You don’t know if it’s because a lot of things happened but they all feel like distant memories; some of which you can’t even clearly see in the back of your mind. Satoru felt like a new man and along with this, the pain of your past continuously fades away each time you see his face. 

You don’t want to name the feeling yet but, you know that all that’s meant to happen will happen. 

Like it did when you had Yui. Like it did when you got sundered. Like it did when you tried with different people. Like it does now, as you slowly, steadily fall back together.

PREV | ALT. Ending

taglist: @forever-war @astral-hydromancy @witchbybirth @starshinedowo @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @lost-lonnie @haitanifxn @dearsunaa @clairdelunaax @anxious-chick @tigerchaeee @gingerspicelattemix @tsukkisrightpinky @crowiechan @makimais @infinitemoonlight @iloveblogging2 @cloudsinthecosmos @uchiwife @bellaadonnas @lawlietily @lilxnvm @poopoobuttsy @yihona-san06 @luhvbot @sagekko @asbony @uhremmi

@kurookinnie @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads @galaxyfever @guenievresworld @y2kcy3brz @chocokaylarobin @hopeannalea @shizuuuuuuuu @tojirin @teapartyspilled @ackermendick @shadowarchon @vinkiesz @awkwardaardvarkforever @nvvacanesworld @wolffmaiden @underburningstars @rntrsuna @vampgguk @doulcha @creolequeen11210 @reosnagi

#angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader