#before knocking it out cold for not finding the light of his life handsome

[jksprincess10]

The handyman part 1 || Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You broke your bed and need Joel Miller, your handy neighbor in Jackson, to fix it. 

CW: FLUFF, sexual tension, talks about past losses, age gap, not smut but it’s coming.

Read part 2

A few weeks ago, a man and his daughter had moved in the vacant house next to yours in Jackson.  He mostly kept to himself, you knew only pieces of information; he was named Joel, he was Tommy’s brother and he worked in construction in another life. Lastly, he was very handsome for his age.

Having a handyman just next door was a good thing. Especially, when one night, during terrible nightmares, you broke your bed. You fought so hard, because you thought that the dream was real, that the bottom of the frame was split, and you were now sleeping on the floor.

It took you a few days of sleeping badly to build up the courage to knock on your door. When you did, his daughter opened the door. She was well in her teens and had the reputation of being too… honest.

“Yes?”

“I’m looking for… Mr Miller.”

She laughed so hard at how you called him that she had to support herself with her hands on her knees, and you felt your cheeks burning.

“Don’t call him like that, please, he’ll beat your ass.”

“What’s that about, Ellie?”

You heard Joel’s voice and the loud thumping of his work boots, before he appeared behind Ellie. Your eyes traveled to him instantly. He had broad shoulders, curly greying hair, and a trimmed beard.

“Your date’s here I guess.” Ellie shrugged and left you between adults.

“Sorry ‘bout her. What can I do for ya?”

Joel looked down at you. You were a sweet thing, probably just old enough to be born before the outbreak.

“I… uh… sorry to bother you. You told me you worked in construction. right?” He nodded, waiting for you to get to the point. “Guessed you were probably… good with your hands.” You just realized how it sounded and slapped your palm against your forehead. “What I mean is. I need you to fix something for me. Please.  In exchange… I’ll… I’ll cook for you two. Or… anything else you need, really.”

“Just let me get my tools, I’ll be right over.” He tried to ignore his racing dirty thoughts as he went to the garage to bring his trusty toolbox. There’s a lot you could do for him, actually.

He followed you to your home and you opened your unlocked door. “What d’ya need fixed?” He asked.

“My bed.”

“Oh.” Joel responded, fingers playing with the back of his hair in an awkward gesture.

The simple syllable made you realise how bad this all sounded. Joel instantly imagined you getting pounded in your bed by some other young guy in the town that had eyes only for you, until your bed broke.

“I-It’s not what you think, I assure you. Please, follow me.”

Joel followed you up your creaking stairs to your only bedroom. It was a small house, he thought. He kneeled beside the broken frame while you sat on your mattress that was laying on the floor.

You felt out of your place, with Joel in your bedroom.

You felt out of place when you imagined how he would look kneeled in front of you.

“God, what did you do. I can fix the bed legs for now, but we’ll need new planks of wood for the bottom.”

“W-Wouldn’t you like to know what I did.” You smiled, trying to build some sort of confidence. “I don’t. Rhetoric question.” He said while he fumbled through his toolbox to find what he needed. Truth is, he felt jealousy lighting a fire in his stomach. Who put their dirty hands on you?

His coldness kept you silent for a moment while he was putting your bed legs back on the bottom of the frame.

“I… had a bad nightmare. I get violent in my sleep. This is why I sleep alone, I guess.” You explained, even though he probably didn’t care.

He imagined how soft you’d be in his arms, on his own mattress. He would reassure you so you’d sleep well. He grunted in frustration, hoping you didn’t hear. But you did. And you laughed to hide the fact that you were trying to imagine if he would grunt the same way while you were sucking his dick.

He turned around to look at you, hammer in hand and a nail between his teeth.

“Don’t make me use this hammer for laughing at me.” He finally let go of some of his walls to show some humour. “I’m old, being on my knees is hard.” He said as an excuse.

“I’d never. So… wood? Do we have that?”

“Might have to look around a bit. It’s getting a bit late though, so I can do that for you tomorrow. Sorry.”

“Another night of sleeping on the floor isn’t too bad, I guess.”

You felt dumb when you had wished he would have offered to sleep with him. And he wanted to, so bad. Last time he was this close to a woman was… well, we don’t talk about it.

Your silence filled your bedroom, your eyes lost in his stature. The way his flannel stretched against his back, the way his jeans looked tight on his muscular thighs.

“Ellie’s going out tonight. You can probably use her room.”

“N-No, it’s fine, really.”

It was a bad idea, even though you wanted to.

Maybe he had overstepped.

When he was done fixing your bed legs, he got up with a grunt of pain, and walked to you, sitting beside you on your old mattress. He felt awkward, like he didn’t know how to talk to a woman anymore.

“Thank you.” You finally said as you looked up to him. His chocolate eyes were beautiful, even if the wrinkles around them made him looked tired. Maybe he smiled a lot in another life.

He was so close, you could feel the faint odour of soap, buried in his woodsy smell. You could just lean in and kiss him, just to see what he would feel like.

“So… diner, huh? What about now? And just me? Since Ellie’s going out. ”

“S-Sure!”

You got up first to climb down the stairs to your kitchen. He followed you closely, eyes momentarily looking at the sweet curve of your ass filling your jeans.

“I have some chicken and chicken bones to go through, is a soup okay for you?”

“Sounds good.”

He sat at your wooden table so he could watch while you were starting to work on the broth. It would probably take a while.

“So, you live alone?” He observed.

“Yeah. Don’t have anyone to break my bed with.”

You turned around to look at him with a small smile.

How he wished he was pounding into you hard enough to break all your furniture. He would then fix everything for you just to stay longer.

You saw how he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Don’t get hard, asshole.” He thought.

“My… past partner died before I got here.” You finally said.

He thought of Tess. “Same.”

“M’sorry…” You sat on an empty counter while you were waiting for the broth to be ready. You didn’t dare approach him too much, you feared not being able to resist him. “Guess we’re both extremely lonely. At least, you have your daughter.”

“She’s… adopted. Not my real daughter.”

“I see… Want a taste? And see if it’s up to your standards.” You asked as you took the spoon in hand to fill it with the warm and comforting broth.

Joel got up from his chair and approached you, palms on each side of your thighs as he bent down to taste the soup. It felt intimate, feeding him like that. He could probably hear your heartbeat in your whole body.

“Hmhm. It’s good.” He approved.

The spoon fell from your hands, and he caught it just in time.

“I’m sorry. I just… fuck. You make me nervous.” You laughed.

“I didn’t mean to.” He backed away. “I can leave if you want.” You held on his soft shirt to keep him close.

“Don’t. I might have other things to fix, who knows?”

He laughed, and you swore you saw his cheeks getting redder. You let go of his shirt.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay.”

“Make yourself comfortable, Joel, there’s whiskey in the cupboards and beer in the fridge. I’ll watch over the broth while it boils.”

You got back on your feet, eyes staying on the yellowish liquid warming up on the stove, while your spoon was making small waves in the mixture. You didn’t dare to look at Joel for now. You heard him grab a bottle, 2 glasses and ice.

He put a glass beside you, and you smiled shyly. Joel looked at the bottle, that dated before the outbreak. “Good taste.”

“Thank you.”

**

You both finally sat at the wooden table; it was just big enough for 2 people, you didn’t have many visitors. Your legs were almost touching under the table.

“There’s gonna be a lot left. You can bring some at home. Maybe Ellie will appreciate.”

“Sure. It’s way better than my cooking. Can barely cook some chef Boyardee.”

“Damn. You need a woman in your life.” You laughed. The whiskey had loosened you up a little.

“Yes, I do.”

“So… what was life like before this for you? I was like… 6 when it started. So, I barely remember.”

So, Joel was 30 years older than you. He couldn’t keep flirting with you, he felt so bad about it. But you didn’t care.

He almost choked on his drink. “Fuck, you’re young.”

“Sorry.” You shrugged. “Not like I care.”

“To answer your question… there’s not much I wanna talk about it. Life was good with my sweet Sarah.”

“I’m… sorry.” You paused for a moment. “My parents did their best when it started. But they had to give me up to FEDRA at some point. When I was old enough to make my own decisions, I left with my partner. We were on the road for a while, and it lasted like that for years… Until he got infected, and I had to shoot him. After that, I found Tommy’s group and here I am.”

He admired how you could tell your story very calmly and coldly. To reassure you, he put his palm over your hand and softly pressed around your fingers. His warmth pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry you lost people.”

“We all lost people, Joel.”

**

When you two finished eating together, you walked him to his door. Your body only wanted to follow him inside, to share more of his body’s warmth.

“You… sure you don’t want to come in?” He asked awkwardly.

“Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow, Joel. Thank you.” You smiled softly. “After all, I’m too young to sleep at an old man’s house, right?” You added as you rolled your eyes.

You got up on your toes to press a kiss on his rough cheek, before going back to your house without looking back.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x yn #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (2)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.5k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: PINING, sexual tension, sad backstory, parental issues, more than likely bad swimming terminology, probably some bad work out advice, i'm trying my best lol, tae is too much but i love him, talks of past drug use (not reader or jimin), strong language, mental health things, medication use, allusions to depression, did i say pining?, reader is horny and awkward 99% of the time, can we blame her?, mood swings, i think they are so cute together, i promise more romance is coming soon A/N: Howdy. I know we're having a pretty slow start, but I think it'll be worth it in the end. I enjoy a good slow burn, especially when there's so much awkward sexual tension involved. Thanks for reading!!!

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Waking up the next morning, I was greeted by a loud knocking on my door. Stumbling, I told whoever it was that I was on my way. The knocking stopped but was quickly followed by Violet’s loud voice. My things were here, and I needed to let the movers inside.

“Christian and Kook are here already,” She added. “Managed to get an extra pair of hands, too.”

I changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a pull over. It was not supposed to be as cold today, but I did not think a short-sleeved shirt would be enough to keep me warm. Sliding into my boots, I opened the front door.

Violet was there, her hair in a braid again, wearing a blue plaid shirt and bootcut jeans. Beside her was Jimin, a large smile already on his face. Two other men were here. I was certain I had seen one of them before. He was very handsome with a heart shaped face and soft chin, large, asymmetrical brown eyes, and downturned lips. His hair was very obviously dyed, the blue so bright when the sun hit it my eyes hurt.

The other man was less familiar. His hair was black, styled into a trendy wolf cut, with his bangs pulled out of his face into a ponytail. He had a pure, youthful, and elegant look about him, and a few piercings. There was one on his eyebrow, one on his bottom lip, and so many on each ear I could not count them all. If I could describe him in a single word, it would be cartoonish. His eyes took up most of his face, large and doe-like, with all of his other features soft and small. Like the blue haired man, he was very handsome.

This upset me more than it should have, because despite how wonderful they both looked, all I could think about was how much I preferred Jimin. It was incomparable, actually. While they were certainly my type, I could only see how not Jimin-like their features were.

“Good morning,” I greeted them awkwardly, my voice scratchy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you both.”

“It’s such an honor to meet you,” The blue haired man’s enthusiasm caught me off guard. Despite me never making the move to shake either one of their hands, he reached for mine anyway. He reminded me of a labrador retriever, and I could imagine a tail wagging in time with his vigorous handshake. “I’m Taehyung Kim. I used to watch you, like, all the time back in the day.”

I knew that name. Studying his face a little more, it hit me. Taehyung Kim, a.k.a., The Seal of Michigan, a.k.a, V. I never understood why he had been given that last one, but it must have some sort of meaning to him because the guy lights up when anyone uses it. He was a famous snowboarder and had been to the 2020 winter Olympics. He was just a few months younger than Jimin.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” I gripped his hand back a bit more now. “I watched you at the last Olympics. You did great.”

He blushed and let go of my hand, “I didn’t win anything, but I had a lot of fun.”

That was true. The kid was brand new on the scene and let some of his nerves get to him. I had learned the hard way that hesitation could ruin a great performance, but I was sure he would do better in January. The Winter Olympics were always a few months ahead of summer, and I would surely be watching Taehyung this year. If I was going to spend time with Jimin then I would need to get along with his friends.

“It’s not always about winning,” I tried to comfort him. “I didn’t win every time either.”

That placated him. Jimin quickly introduced me to Jungkook after. He was an NHL player for the Red Wings. I admitted that I had no idea who he was and never really watched hockey before, but that only made Jungkook swear to make me an avid fan before I left Michigan. For some reason, I believed him.

It did not take long for the movers to get all of my furniture and boxes into the house. With the boys’ help, I was tipping the two men much earlier than I anticipated. All three of them insisted on helping me unpack despite me telling them I could do it on my own. The place was entirely too small for the four of us, but we managed to make it work.

I had told them my bedroom was off limits. I unpacked my clothes and put my underwear away. My room was the largest in the house. With enough space for my full-sized bed, nightstands, and dresser, I was pleased. The only downside was not having a closet, but I did not bring anything nice enough for it to really matter. It was inconvenient but not the end of the world.

I was, however, happy to see more color. My blanket was dark orange, pillowcases covered in baby pink cow print, and the otter plushie Namjoon’s mom made me was resting right in between them. I installed some simple shelving above my bed, warmly lit Christmas lights wrapped around the bars, where I displayed my books and a few of my plants. The rest were lined up on the windowsill beside the bed.

Brightly colored art now hung on the walls, a large mirror above my dresser, and a peg board for my earrings made the space feel lived in. Whatever books could not fit on my shelves got stacked and put on the nightstand. I still wanted to buy a rug and curtains, but that was on the bottom of my list of priorities.

The boys were all talking and laughing as they worked which helped me relax. I hated being trapped in quiet spaces. Finished with my room, I went to check in with them and move things around. I doubted any of them would get the knick-knacks just right.

“Don’t worry about the decorations,” I said, announcing my presence. Taehyung was staring at two of my paintings with mild panic. “I’ll take that.”

Snatching the photos, I smiled at him. The living room was coming together nicely. Jungkook pushed the dark green loveseat against the wall and all of my throws were on top of it. My largest potted plant was beside it and I decided then I would keep it there. Moving the throw pillows to the floor, I started to put my wall art up. Hoseok complained that I was going to become a hoarder if I bought any more shit. Andrea, however, said that I had great taste, so I listened to her instead.

“You’re a big face of Earthy colors,” Jungkook said, looking around the house. “Lots of plants, too.”

I shrugged, “My fiancé had a lot of succulents and stuff, so I guess it rubbed off on me after a while.”

In truth, Namjoon not only had succulents and cacti, but an entire apartment filled with plants. He had a small garden in the back, vegetables and herbs growing in despite the weather in Colorado making it difficult. The man had a green thumb and loved taking care of things. I had been in charge of them once we moved in together and learned to love it. Even after he died, I couldn’t imagine not having at least five plants in the house.

I noticed the room had gone eerily quiet. I realized then what I had said. It was the first time I had spoken about Namjoon with any of them. Knowing I had made the atmosphere awkward, I tried to break up the tension.

“What colors do you like, Jungkook?”

I could physically feel the mood lighten.

“Black,” His reply was quick. I groaned. He laughed. “What? I like the clean look.”

“It’s not clean,” I argued. “It’s depressing.”

Taehyung took my side, “My house isn’t as decorated as yours, but I have more going on than either one of them. I’m a huge fan of video games and photography so I have a lot of stuff hanging up.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin chimed in from the bathroom. He placed himself in charge of getting that room squared away. “His place isn’t as nice as yours. It’s all cluttered and disorganized."

“Nu uh,” Taehyung argued childishly.

“Dude, you have stuff everywhere,” Jungkook shot back, handing me another picture frame.

“They’re lying,” Taehyung told me.

“You’re so full of shit, Tae,” Jungkook sighed.

“Literally the dumbest thing to lie about,” Jimin snarkily threw in from the bathroom.

“Bullies,” Taehyung was addressing me again and this time I could not help my chuckles. “They always gang up on me.”

As the boys continued to bicker, I worked. I finished hanging up the art above the sofa and got to organizing the throws. Taehyung had already pulled out my rug, and I started figuring out how I wanted to place all of the floor pillows. Namjoon never used the couch, no one in his family did, and I had become so conscious of their comfort that I always had a large array of pillows on the floor for them to use. After a few years, I had joined them, and I kept up the trend once I moved to the Springs. The sofa was little more than decoration.

“Damn, these are nice.”

Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Jungkook holding up one of my medals. I was positive I had not packed it and the box he was hunched over was completely unfamiliar as well. Embarrassment and anger swelled up in my chest. I had placed Minho and Tilly in charge of coordinating with the movers so I could focus on work and training Hoseok before I left. If I had to guess, Tilly had thought it wise to ship over a large package of my most prized possessions for some God forsaken reason.

“I don’t know why those are here,” I hoped my voice sounded playful and carefree. I did not want another tense moment. “One of my friends must have packed them.”

“Holy shit,” Taehyung was now holding the medal. “These are heavy. You have so many.”

Walking over to the box, I took out the rest of the medals. Tilly had only packed four of the eight Olympic medals I owned, probably running out of room. Framed photos of me swimming, with the rest of my team, and my coach were also in the box. My swimsuit from the last Olympics I competed at was folded at the very bottom of the box, my goggles and cap wrapped up in the fabric, and underneath it was something I had not been expecting. A framed photograph.

I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. I was eighteen coming off the back of two major wins and making my mark in the athletic community. I had just moved to Denver; Victor had gotten divorced the year prior and his ex-wife moved to Colorful Colorado taking his daughter with her. My coach demanded he was close enough to see her every weekend. It really did not matter to me where I lived, so it was one of the easier decisions I had to make.

I knew Hoseok lived in the area, and we had always been friendly at the meets we had in common. I ended up getting his number from Ozzie and after getting coffee I knew we would be friends for life. The picture was taken at his New Year’s Eve Party. I needed to get laid, he had said, and he knew a few guys he thought I might hit it off with. That was where I met Namjoon.

He was a college student, fresh faced and stumbling over his words. I was charmed by him almost instantly, even if Hoseok was positive the two of us were too different to last. I could recall the smell of fireworks in the air, the way his voice cracked whenever another one would go off, and how excited his eyes looked whenever I asked him about his major. Namjoon spoke for hours about Philosophy, all of his favorite poets, and the way he believed the universe worked. He was so clumsy it was practically a disability, and the loud sounds were so nerve wracking, he flinched whenever the fireworks boomed.

Picking up the small picture, I smiled. It was taken right after midnight. Hoseok’s sister said we looked so sweet that she could not help herself. I had all but ripped Namjoon’s hair out when the countdown began, kissing him before midnight ever came. His hands rested gently on my hips, and he huffed like he had run a marathon when we finally pulled apart. His breath was hot when he went back in for more, panting into my mouth as I clung to him like an addict. It was a beautiful moment. It was a moment I would never forget.

Suddenly, I was no longer mad at Matilda. I was sure it had been her who did this. Minho would not go through so much trouble if he thought it would upset me. Either way, I was happy to have the picture. While I was no longer in love with Namjoon, my heart slowly healing itself and making space for someone new, I would never forget our time together. It was too perfect, too magical; too loving to forget.

“Is that him?” Taehyung asked. The way he said it told me that he knew what had happened. I doubted there was a person in our world who didn't know. “The guy who died?”

I nodded, “His name was Namjoon.”

“Damn, that’s rough,” Jungkook’s voice was very gentle, and I could hear the compassion in it. “Sorry to hear that. Hope you’re doing okay.”

I smiled at him and nodded, “It was a few years ago.”

Taehyung was the one who broke the moment this time and I was grateful for the reprieve.

“These aren’t all of them, right?” He pointed at the medals still in the box. "Olympic medals, I mean."

I shook my head, “No but I guess she just grabbed the ones I had at my house. The other four I keep at my school. They’re in a case in my office.”

The ones Tilly had packed away were from 2012. Andrea had been the one to convince me to bring my other medals to school. Before that I had them all stored in a box in the deepest corner of my basement. I hated looking at them. Hated everything that they represented. The only reason these had been hanging up was because I could not be bothered taking them down.

“Where should we put them?” Jungkook asked.

I shrugged, “No idea. Just keep them in the box for now.”

Truthfully, I had no intention of putting them anywhere. While happy to have the photo of Namjoon and I, my feelings on dragging these things around had not changed. I would be very upset if I lost or damaged any of this stuff. Putting everything away, save the picture, I closed the box back up and placed the photo on my coffee table. I would find a better place for it later.

Like all of the times I had been around him, Jimin bled into the background. I listened for his voice, waited for him to add something to the conversation, but he kept to himself. Even when he left the bathroom and joined the three of us, he only answered in one-word sentences and made sound effects to show he was listening. Taehyung and Jungkook seemed used to it, so I had to believe this was just how Jimin normally was.

“You should come and grab some drinks with us,” Jungkook smiled at me.

The boys were going out for a late lunch since we finished a little later than we had thought we would. I was appreciative that they had invited me out but declined the offer. All of them were disappointed.

“Why not?” Taehyung wiggled a large set of keys at me. I could not imagine what all of them could be for and the sound they made when they moved bothered me. “You worried the food’s going to suck or something?”

I shook my head, laughing, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just don’t feel comfortable going to a bar.”

Jimin smiled at me, a small, tight-lipped smile, and I almost laughed at myself when I realized I was holding my breath. I was being ridiculous. I would call Hoseok tonight to get my head screwed back on.

“It’s not a bar,” It was heavenly to hear his voice again. “Taehyung and I don’t drink. Jungkook just likes to sit at the bar so he can watch the games.”

“Oh,” I replied dumbly. “I guess I can come along then.”

Jimin offered to give me a ride while Jungkook and Taehyung rode in the hockey player's beat up Jeep. He was just as quiet on the ride to the restaurant as he was back at the house, and while I wanted to break him out of whatever shell he had put around himself, I had no idea how. We were supposed to work together and barely spoke. Ozzie was not going to be happy about this.

“What time are we getting your car?”

I jumped, not prepared for the question. His eyes were still on the road, and it looked like he was forcing himself to not look my way. It hurt my feelings, but I knew I would have to get over it. Whatever his problem was, it had nothing to do with me and I would not let it get in between our working relationship.

“Whenever you want to go,” I replied, going back to looking out of the window.

“We’ll pick it up after we eat. My mom invited you over for dinner. by the way. If you're up for it.”

This had been the most he had said all day, but his voice was off. It was embarrassing how quickly I had become attuned to his little mannerisms, but I was so sure that something was wrong with him it was eerie. His tone was flat and disinterested, and I knew I had done nothing to upset him. Something was obviously bothering him, and I would have to silently support him in my own way. I was not comfortable being more upfront and something told me that Jimin would not like my overstepping.

“I might,” I purposely kept my tone light, hoping he did not realize I could see the darkness in his eyes. Looking at him, I asked, “What is she making?”

“Beef and radish stew,” The mundane topic seemed to ease his frown. “She got a yellow corvina from the Asian market yesterday so she’s going to roast it. Do you like fish?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It sounds nice. I’ll go.”

A ghost of a smile graced his pretty face and I felt like I had won the lottery. Carefully composed, I looked back out of the window, hiding my little smile behind my hand. He was quiet again, the only sounds in the car being our breathing, but it felt lighter. Finally, I let myself admire the scenery.

Taehyung and Jungkook were already at the bar when we arrived and as soon as we sat down, the snowboarder was quick to hog all of my attention. While Jungkook watched a baseball game on the big screens, Taehyung talked animatedly about his family. Jimin was quietly sipping on a Coke in the seat next to me. It was strange to see how easily his friends ignored him. Like they knew he did not feel like talking.

“My sisters are both in college,” Taehyung continued to ramble. “Twins. It was a nightmare being the baby brother.”

I nodded along and tried my best to keep up with him. I kept getting distracted by Jimin. He barely moved and seemed to be mindlessly watching the tv. He looked so sad it broke my heart. Still, no one else said anything so I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Oh!” Taehyung gasped, noticing a few people who walked in. “I’m going to go say ‘hi.’ It was so great meeting you.”

With a bright smile, Taehyung told the boys about the group and Jungkook decided to join him. Jimin did not even acknowledge he had said anything. Leaving us alone, the restaurant was loud and filled with their chattering.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Picking up the menu the bartender had left with Taehyung when we first arrived, I gave it a quick once over. “We can split an appetizer.”

Jimin looked tired and sad, but I did not know what to say or do for him. We were not lovers, not even friends. We were a pair of strangers who were expected to work together. This seemed much easier over the phone. I took a nervous sip of my drink.

“What are you thinking?” Just the sound of him talking eased my anxiety.

“Uh,” I had barely looked at their menu and pointed to a random item. “Fried pickles?”

Jimin smiled lazily and looked at me, his eyes amused.

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”

I shrugged, embarrassed. “I just said the first thing I saw.”

Putting his cup down, Jimin grabbed the menu from my hands and laid it flat on the bar. We leaned over the small paper, our knees touching. I could smell his cologne now and my mouth watered. He smelled so good I struggled to focus.

“Most of the shit here is awful,” His voice had more life in it now and I was glad to see the corners of his mouth pulled up. “Only things worth getting are the chips and salsa, fried cheese, and pasties. The pizza is fine, too, but not worth the money.”

Talking distracted him from whatever had been on his mind, and it made Jungkook and Taehyung’s behavior odd. They were obviously very close, but if I could see how much happier he looked when he was shooting the shit, how couldn’t they? They probably knew something I didn’t, but it did nothing but rub me the wrong way. My friends would annoy me until I had no choice but to talk back.

“Chips are usually pretty safe,” We both agreed on it. “Do you just want chips? I don’t mind getting you a burger or something.”

He shook his head, “Like I said, most of the shit here is awful. Don’t waste your money.”

I ordered the chips for us, and the bartender was happy to help us out. This place was pathetically empty save us and the group Jungkook and Taehyung ditched us for. They were very loud and rowdy, something Jimin said was completely normal. Apparently, they all knew one another but he hadn’t felt like spending time with any of them.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, heart pounding. My anxiety over the question was ridiculous, but I felt like this was a good moment to ask. We were both comfortable and the tightness around his eyes was finally eased.

“Just one of those days,” He replied, voice soft.

I sighed, “I get them, too. They’re the fucking worst.”

He chuckled darkly, “It’s like you wake up and that’s already taken all of the energy you had for the day.”

“Why’d you come to the house?” I asked, flagging the bartender for a refill. “I wouldn’t have been upset if you bailed.”

Jimin flushed, “I said I was coming so I came.”

No, I thought, you thought I was going to be mad if you hadn’t shown up. Hamilton had this poor kid so fucked up and scared it pissed me off. As long as I knew Matt, he had always been an ass, but to think he had his trainee putting shit before his mental health and wellbeing made whatever sliver of respect I had for him vanish.

I took a long sip of my drink, “We can’t work together if you don’t talk to me. That will piss me off way more than you canceling on me.”

“Okay,” He let out a very large breath. “I’ll let you know next time.”

As we ate our chips, we moved into safer waters. Jimin was still less talkative in person, but nowhere near as tense as he had been all morning. I found that music was one of his favorite things, and I discussed my own interests in more depth and detail than I ever had before. Jimin’s taste was varied but stuck mostly in 90s R&B and soft Indie artists I had never heard of. At some point I ordered spicy wings and had to admit Jimin was right- they really were awful.

We left the other two behind to go and pick up my car. Jungkook and Taehyung seemed more than happy to watch us leave and the large table barely acknowledged my presence. Jimin accepted their happy shouts when he approached, hugging the ones who stood up to greet him, and forced one of his small, pitiful smiles at a particular brunette who kept batting her eyelashes at him. He introduced me but none of them seemed to really care. Especially the brunette.

“Let me get your number,” Taehyung said to me, holding out a hand for my phone. “We need to hang out again.”

I was nervous about giving him a way to contact me. He reminded me of Tilly, though ten times more energetic, and she always found a way to get on my nerves (the box being one of many examples). Taehyung had yet to overstep the imaginary boundaries I had, but his complete lack of personal space etiquette was astounding. He touched me more in one day than any of my friends in an entire year. He seemed like the type of person to text every day and send a million pictures of himself doing random shit. Even with that in mind, I handed my phone over. He was too nice to say no to.

“Do you like sushi?” Taehyung asked, handing me my phone. “There’s a great place in Detroit we can go to.”

The idea of being trapped in a car with the snowboarder for 45 minutes was not appealing. I could only imagine how much he could talk when he was really excited about something. I would entertain the idea if Jungkook or Jimin came as a buffer, especially if one of them could sit up front. Taehyung yapping away in my ear would give me the biggest migraine I had ever had, and my anxiety over not being entirely focused on the road would make me snippy and rude.

“Only if I can come,” Jungkook piped up. “You’re not going to Bash without me, dude.”

“Well yeah,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Y/N has to meet Milo and Darcy,” He looked at me, grinning happily. “I think you would really get along.”

I had no idea who either of those people were, but I did not want to ask any questions. Jimin was inching back towards me and telling the others goodbye, and I did not want to hold him up. Taehyung started making plans that I did not pay any attention to. He could always text me when he figured out what he wanted.

“We have to get going,” Jimin was back beside me. “Y/N’s car is sitting at the dealership. It was good seeing everyone.”

I waved at the table and started walking away before Taehyung could touch me. He was definitely a hugger. Jimin was quick to catch up with me, giggling about my “escape.” It had started to snow again, gentle flurries twisting and turning in the wind, and I had forgotten my heavy jacket at home. The long sleeve I was wearing would do nothing to keep me warm.

“Here,” Jimin taking off his jacket. “You need this more than me.”

Draping it over my shoulders, Jimin told me to zip it up. Stunned, I moved on autopilot and shoved my arms through the sleeves. Everything smelled like him, oranges and spice, and his warmth was still clinging to the thick fleece. I could not remember the last time someone had given me their jacket. Dazed, I followed Jimin out to the parking lot, eyes locked on his back. He was in nothing but a thin, black and white striped shirt.

“Thanks,” I said once we were both in the truck, already shrugging out of the light beige jacket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He held up a hand, “Keep it. The heater is out.”

I shook my head, “What about you?”

He reached into the back and held up a purple hoodie.

“I’ll be alright.”

I put the jacket back on and buckled in. Jimin slipped into the sweatshirt and started the truck. After buckling up, he backed out of the parking lot. I caught sight of the brunette as we left. She was red faced, shouting into her phone. I looked away. Whoever she was angry with was definitely getting an earful.

“Wonder what Tom did this time,” Jimin mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Tom’s Annie’s boyfriend,” He supplied. “They’re always arguing. Worse than Jungkook and Darcy, they break up every other week, but Tom and Annie are at each other's throats every other day.”

I grimaced, “Sounds like my friends. They finally called it quits last year, but they were insufferable.”

Jimin chuckled, “So, what’s Colorado like?”

I talked to him about Andrea and Seokjin first, how we met and how much I loved their daughter. Hoseok and I’s friendship got quite a few laughs out of him, but those quickly died off when I brought up Namjoon. I told him about the day we met and the coffee date that happened a few days later, and that seemed to brighten up the mood again. Namjoon stories were bittersweet but took up such a large chunk of my life it was impossible to gloss over.

“When’s the toxic couple coming up?” He joked.

“I’m getting there,” I replied.

Hoseok and Matilda had known one another longer than the rest of us. Growing up together, no one was surprised when they finally hooked up in high school. It was, however, short lived bliss. Matilda got caught up in the wrong crowd and began doing drugs. Hoseok had tried to help her get through it, but they could never see eye-to-eye. That started their toxic cycle of getting back together, Tilly going to rehab, her relapsing, and them falling out again. It was not until she went two years ago that it managed to stick, but their relationship was too tumultuous to make it very far. They decided to stay friends and she became a constant member in our group.

“That’s crazy,” Jimin shook his head. “Happy she’s doing better now.”

“Me too.”

The rest of the drive was spent talking about Colorado and how beautiful it was. He stayed away from swimming, mostly wanting to hear about the school I worked at and the places I went to in my free time. He kept me talking for the entire 45-minute car ride, question after question keeping me on my toes. He did not like talking about himself, whenever I tried to switch the conversation to his own interests he barely responded before going back to his interrogation. Before I knew it, we were pulled into the dealership and getting down.

“You can leave,” I told him.

“I want to make sure you’re good before I go,” He replied.

The cashier was lovely, her voice bubbly and sweet as she helped me out. Jimin lingered longer than he needed to, helping me fill out my paperwork and making small talk with the dealer. I took my keys and went for a quick test drive before I was finally able to convince Jimin to leave.

The drive back was quiet. I was used to the silence when I drove, but Jimin’s voice had been soothing. Frankly, I was a bit bored without him around. I decided to call Matila and ask about my medals. She apologized but I doubted how sincere she actually was. After catching up with her, hearing all about the guy she went on a date with, and a five-minute rant about Hoseok spending way too much money on Minho’s birthday present, I hung up before she could give me a migraine. As much as I liked Tilly, she was someone I had very little patience for and her voice, high pitched and loud, was like nails on a chalkboard.

I got back in town a little after 3. Violet and Calvin were both home and watching some black and white Western. Calvin offered to make me lunch, but I was quick to decline. I just wanted some space.

As soon as I got in my apartment, I curled up in bed to take a nap. I was overwhelmed after talking so much and desperately needed to recharge. I set an alarm for 5 so I could make it over to the Park house in time for dinner. Quickly sending a quick text to Hoseok, I turned on thunderstorm sounds and closed my eyes.

Na-Yeon and James were both excited to see me, talking about their days and asking how I was settling in. Eloise was there as well, the twins in the back room playing again. Jimin was going to be late. He had gone for a last-minute swim with Milo. When I asked them who that was, it was Eloise who answered.

“That’s Vincent’s fiancé.”

“Who?” I was even more confused.

“Taehyung,” Na-Yeon answered. “You know he hates that name as much as Jimin hates his, Lou."

Eloise blushed, her entire face turning a bright shade of red.

“Sorry,” She scratched behind her ear. Looking back at me, she sighed, “We went to school together. Old habit.”

Now V made sense. It never occurred to me that Jungkook and Taehyung could have their own American names, and neither one introduced themselves that way either. James came to take the seat beside mine, the dining table more crowded then was reasonably necessary.

“Does Jungkook have a second name?” I asked.

“Ian,” Eloise replied. “He goes by both, so I don’t think he cares as much as Tae and Jimin. I know his girlfriend uses both.”

I assumed that was Darcy. Why else would Taehyung assume she would go with us on a day trip to Detroit?

“They call him Ian on the team, too,” James chimed in. “His name is too hard.”

Namjoon never had an American name, at least, not one I had ever heard. The only person I could think of was Hoseok. A lot of his friends called him Jay, something about an old nickname from school, but that was it. Seokjin just went by Jin, Namjoon went by Joon, and Minho went by…well, Minho. None of their parents used American-Friendly names, and Seokjin’s father’s English was still poor even after living here for so long.

“Y/N,” Na-Yeon brought me back to the conversation. “What banchan do you like?”

“My eomeo-nim made these delicious, braised potatoes,” I answered, thinking back on our dinners together. “Kimchi, of course. My ex made the best braised lotus roots. They were always yummy.”

Na-Yeon seemed pleased by my answer. James and Eloise started rambling about their own favorites. Unlike Namjoon, Mr.Park was a big fan of seafood. He grew up in Busan near the Jagalchi Market, which, according to him, was the largest seafood market in South Korea. Eloise talked a little about her favorite Korean dishes before jumping into what she grew up eating. Her father was Scottish and her mother French, so one night she was eating Scottish Pie and daube niçoise the next. It was fun hearing more about Eloise. I would have never guessed she was a first generation American.

“It’s something Tony and I had in common,” She added. “He learned quite a bit of French before he died. Unfortunately, my Korean is taking much longer.”

“Mine isn’t that great either,” I admitted. “Namjoon’s family spoke English and never liked to make me feel awkward. I can follow a conversation fairly well, but only if you speak slowly.”

James laughed, “I will remember that.”

The front door opened, and I could hear loud talking. Eloise sighed. Whoever was with Jimin did not pass her inspection it would seem. She and James seemed to have a small conversation with their eyes. The men were still at the front of the house. Finally, Eloise looked away and scowled.

“Must have brought Milo and Tae over,” She muttered. “I’m going to go check on the twins.”

Eloise left the table. James told me to ignore her. She and Milo did not get along for whatever reason and she chose to ignore him. It was not my business, so I accepted that explanation.

I prepared myself for a bad interaction. So far, Eloise was such a quiet and sweet person I could not imagine anyone actively disliking her. Then again, this was Taehyung’s fiancé, and he was the nicest, most bubbly person I had ever met. It did not seem likely that he would hang around bad company. It could just be a case of personalities clashing.

“Annyeong,” Taehyung greeted us brightly, immediately finding me. “Babe, come say hi.”

A massive, pale man followed in behind him. Milo was a good-looking guy, bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, with a solid build. He reminded me of the male swimmers I worked with, his huge size and bulging muscles intimidating. His fashion sense was not as good as Taehyung’s. Ill-fitting black bottoms and a Rick and Morty t-shirt that made me want to roll my eyes. I was definitely biased, my loyalties already in Eloise’s corner. I did not need to know a backstory to be weary. The dude looked enough like Matthew Hamilton to make me dislike him just off principal.

“Milo, Y/N,” Taehyung introduced, gesturing between the two of us. Behind him, Jimin snuck into the kitchen and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. He looked nice in his gray tracksuit. “Y/N, this is my fiancé, Milo.”

I managed a disingenuous smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” He replied. His voice was smokey.

“Where’s Lou?” Jimin asked, coming around to greet his father.

“Checking on Harper and Cam,” James told him.

There was not enough room for all of us to sit at the table and I ended up giving up my seat to Na-Yeon. Jimin helped her set the table while I was put in charge of gathering Eloise and the kids. Walking down the hallway, I found the kids’ playroom and knocked.

“Dinner’s ready,” I announced, poking my head inside.

The room was bigger than I thought it would be. Each side was decorated in stereotypical boy and girl colors, Cameron’s bed and wall art a wide variety of blues and teals with dinosaur decals on the walls, while Harper’s was a mix up of baby pink and white. Her bed had more stuffed animals on it than I could count and all of them seem well loved. Their toys split the room in half, a large, circle rug in the middle of it all. Most of the toys were thrown on the floor and Eloise was telling them it was time for them to clean it up.

The children looked so cute in their little matching outfits. Harper’s black hair was braided down her back and the ribbon tied at the end of it matched her cream-colored overalls. Cam’s hair was on the longer side as well, falling to his shoulders with a slight wave. His bright red converse stuck out against the rather plain outfit he was wearing, and I had to assume he put up a fight behind them. Harper started to sing the Barney song as they cleaned.

“Feeling, okay?” I asked their mother. She was sitting in the chair on Harper’s side. “You ran off pretty quickly.”

She shook her head, “It’s nothing. We’ve never gotten along.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Do you want to eat here? I’ll sit with you.”

She smiled, “We can play nice, don’t worry. Thanks, though. I appreciate you asking.”

Dinner was as uneventful as Eloise said it would be. She and Milo greeted one another and then acted as if the other did not exist. I stood up to eat, Taehyung, Milo, and Jimin with me while the others sat down. Cam was excited to talk about school and Harper rambled on and on about her imaginary friend Butter Squash. They were both very sweet and it made me miss Dani. The last time I saw her was when we went skating the weekend before I left.

Taehyung was as talkative as ever. His touches also become bolder. By the time I left, he had an arm around my shoulders and his body pressed against my side. Milo was unbothered by our closeness. He and Jimin spoke the most and again the guy I knew when no one else was around seemingly vanished. This one was too put together, too closed off, and no one, and I mean no one, seemed to care. Every time he laughed half-heartedly or nodded along with whatever Milo was talking about, I felt more confused. Why was he so hot and cold all of the time?

During my drive back home, I tentatively attempted to listen to the radio. I only lasted around a minute or so before I switched it off. I needed silence. The Parks were such a lovely family, but tonight was too much. Between unpacking and Taehyung, I was drained. Hoseok had asked me to call him when I got home but I was going to wait. If it was important enough, he would call me himself.

I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow, my medication making it a dreamless night.

The rest of the week was quiet. I called my friends back home to check in Thursday morning and was happy about Hoseok’s progress. The kids were really liking him, and he thought he may have a permanent job for next year if I decided to keep working with Jimin. I told him not to get his hopes up.

Jimin and I spoke through text daily. He was still going about his normal routine while I brainstormed training and scheduling. By Saturday I was ready to start testing out different ideas. We both seemed eager to get started, actually. Sunday, like I expected, was very quiet. That was his mom’s day, so I tried not to bother him. Violet and Calvin kept me company.

The Andersons were nice people. Violet was always coming to the back and inviting me to join them for breakfast, and her husband enjoyed asking me about my life. Calvin was far more personable than his wife was, but they managed to balance one another out. Sunday evening was the first time I noticed Calvin’s memory issues. He had no idea who I was. I came inside and Violet had to tell him I was their daughter Nancy’s babysitter. He was under the assumption that she was still 10. I left them alone when Violet asked me to pick her up from school. She came out back a few hours later to thank me for going along with everything, and I made sure that she had my phone number in case she needed me to help out if things got out of hand.

It was still dark outside when I left Monday morning. Jimin and I agreed to meet up at 6 am to start our day, but I wanted to get to the gym early. Time to set up and get myself in the right headspace was important to me.

The location he had sent me was more remote than I had originally anticipated. Jimin owned the little gym. It had been a swim school in the past and the place he had first learned he loved the water. He and his mom went to classes together when he was young. The place had been too expensive for the previous owners to keep up with and they were planning on selling it, but Jimin bought it off of them and converted it into a public gym/pool.

In our text exchanges he called it his retirement plan, but I was sure the place meant more to him than that. He had no interest in it until after the cancer diagnosis. If I was to over analyze it, I would say he was trying to hold onto a happy memory. This was their place before sickness and death ran through his family. I would imagine anyone would want to keep something that held so much sentimental value if they could.

Pulling into the parking lot, I was first struck by two things. One, it was open and there were people inside, and two, it was huge. Most of the building was nothing but windows giving me a great view of the muscled men inside. Bright fluorescent lights made my sensitive eyes hurt, and I could hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere near the gym. The small group of men were together, all of them lifting and spotting each other while talking, and a sense of dread filled my belly.

I was always anxious when I went to a new place, but a new gym was a nightmare. I had bad experiences in the past. Overly friendly creeps who liked to stand around and watch me while I worked out. None of the guys inside gave off bad vibes, but I was still in my car and none of them laid their eyes on me. A woman in a gym was like a drop of blood in water. I had to hope they were not sharks.

Gathering courage, I grabbed my duffle and made my way inside. A pretty, dark-skinned, young woman was sitting at the receptionist desk, and I felt more at ease. If they left her alone then maybe they would not cause me too much trouble either. The music was louder inside, and I recognized the Ciara song. It was a great one for cardio. Fighting the urge to dance, I greeted the receptionist. She put down her magazine and gave me an award-winning grin. She had a nice, dimpled smile.

“Hi there,” She had a thick, Southern accent and I could not tell you where she might be from. I was awful at telling them apart. “Do you have your membership card?”

I laughed nervously, my grip on my bag tightening. “No. I’m here to train with Jimin Park. He said I should have something on file.”

She nodded, her smile unwavering as she looked at her computer and asked for my name.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” I replied, foot tapping along to the Lil Wayne song that came on. I had this one on my own workout playlist back in 2008. I could not help mumbling the words under my breath, “She-she-she lick me like a lollipop.”

“Found you,” The girl grabbed a few sheets of paper from a pile on her side of the desk. “Just fill these out for me and we’ll get your card printed. Your fees have been paid already so no need to worry about that.”

I nodded, half listening. This song was great. Why has it been so long since I last heard it? I went to the gym all the time. I needed to put it back on my playlist. Honestly, the entire Carter III needed to find its way back into my rotation.

“My name’s Giselle if you need anything,” The receptionist pointed to a cluster of chairs right at the front entrance. “You’re super early so Christian isn’t here yet, but I’ll give you the key to the pool room so you can do whatever you need before the boss gets in.”

I smiled at her, “Thank you, Giselle.”

“Anytime, ma’am.”

It took me a few minutes to fill the paperwork out and scan my ID, but Giselle made everything as quick as she could. One of the men working out had come by to ask for some wipes to clean off a few of the machines but left without anything more than a ‘good morning’ thrown in my direction. When we passed by the rest of them on the way to the pool house, we were completely ignored, so it was safe for me to say that they would not be a problem for me in the future. Creeps were never subtle about their creepiness.

“I have to double check with Christian, but I think I’m supposed to give you a spare key,” Giselle said, unlocking the pool. “I’m just going to be sure before I promise you anything. Don’t want to get fired.”

I could tell she was joking. Jimin did not strike me as the type of guy to fire anyone over something like that. It only made sense for me to have a spare key since we would be coming around so much, and I would feel bad about disrupting the staff whenever I needed to get inside. They did not get paid enough to deal with that on top of all of the rest of their duties.

“We keep it locked until 9,” Giselle continued, leading the way inside. “Then we close it back up at 5. Maintenance comes in every Tuesday to treat the water, so you’ll have to be out of here no later than 7. Boss man knows this already so you shouldn’t have any problems with that.”

The pool room was very bland and bare bones. The smell of chlorine hung heavily in the air while the lights around the pool walls illuminated the dark room. It was very big, and I itched to go for a quick dip. The coolness of the water would be nice against my skin. I had grown hot with nerves and gotten a little sweaty.

“We have a few other staff members that will be in around the same time the boss man comes in,” Giselle continued to give me the rundown. “I’m sure he’ll introduce you to everyone just in case you need anything. I’d say make nice with Yoongi first. He’s our in-house massage therapist.”

Pointing to a door on the far-left wall, Giselle let me know that was the pool locker room and the door right next to it was a shortcut to the back offices. Management, marketing, and facility supervisors were usually all back there and I would more than likely never see them. They were not the most social people and worked from home a lot. I could tell by Giselle’s voice that she did not particularly care for management.

“Drew should be here by now,” She checked her smart watch. “She’s the general manager. I’m going to go and grab her and see about that key. She might come back to say ‘hi’ but don’t hold your breath.”

I chuckled, “That bad?”

Giselle rolled her eyes, “Drew’s fine, but Dominic is usually following her around everywhere and he’s annoying. You’ll get what I mean if you ever see them together.”

I laughed, “I’ve had my fair share of weirdos. Thanks again. I appreciate you showing me around.”

She beamed, “It wasn’t a problem. You gave me a reason to get up from the desk, so I’d say it’s a win.”

We spoke for a few more minutes until a very large, bulky man popped his head in looking for her. His black t-shirt clung to him tightly and his shorts were a hideous neon pink color. He did have a nice smile, one that took up most of his face and teeth so white they looked fake. Giselle introduced me very quickly, and the man, Sam, turned out to be one of the personal trainers on staff.

“You’re the Olympian, right?” Sam asked. Jimin must really like people who talked a lot, because I had never met more outgoing people in my life before moving here. Everyone he surrounded himself with was just full of energy, and I wondered if it was purposeful. Jimin himself was a rather quiet and sad person. “Jimin talks about you all the time.”

I laughed awkwardly, face heating, “That’s me.”

“Sick,” Suddenly an image of Sam surfing in California flashed through my mind. He just seemed like the type. “Well, I have to go and help out a client, but it was nice meeting you. Gigi, can you go back up front before Drew pitches a fit?”

Giselle sighed heavily, “Tell her I’m coming,” Looking at me she asked if I was okay on my own. “Come and get me if you need anything, okay?”

After assuring her that I was fine, Giselle left behind Sam. The two of them bickered like an old married couple, and I wondered about their relationship. He did call her a little nickname. I shook my head. Regardless, I had other things I needed to take care of before I could get lost in thought about two strangers.

Unpacking my duffle, I threw on my whistle and stopwatch before getting to work on my schedule. I had brought a lot of my personal swimming gear with me like training bands, coach communicator, and forearm fulcrum. Back in the day, I was the brand ambassador for Finis, so I had a lot of their products. The tracksuit I was wearing was from Speedo, and I had so much of their stuff for the same reason. Being a famous swimmer had its perks.

I had planned on doing a lot of drill and some short-burst efforts with Jimin. He had been without a PT for a few weeks now, and while I trusted him to stay in shape, it was no secret someone would be performing less on their own than with guidance. I did not want to over work him when he was, for all intents and purposes, been on a vacation. So, while I wanted to rush head-first into training, I would try to ease into things a bit before going full asshole on the kid. Like Victor would say, “Three times a week for three weeks.” After that, he was going to be at my mercy.

It was just past 6 when Jimin walked into the pool room. I was flipping through my training plan for the day and humming along to the music blasting through the speakers, echoing off the walls. Whoever was in charge of the playlist had a thing for the early 2000s.

“Morning,” His soft voice brought a smile to my face. He sounded tired. “What do you think about the place?”

Stealing a look at him, I had to hold back the gasp that I wanted to let out. He was wearing a black tank top and shorts giving me a great look at his skin. Embarrassed by my reaction, I internally scolded myself. I needed to get over this crush already. I was about to see a lot more of his body once he went to the back to change. I bit my lip. I had no idea how I was going to deal with him in a speedo.

“It’s very nice,” I was happy with how nonchalant I sounded. “Wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”

I wonder what else is big… I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that- I should have dealt with this problem the second I realized it was there. I was going to force myself to call Hoseok today. He would know what to do, and if not, at least I could vent a little.

“Sleep okay?”

I jumped out of my ever-degrading thoughts.

“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Had fun with your mom? I wanted to give you two some space, so I stayed to myself.”

He smiled and I melted. Yeah, this needed to stop. I was too grown to be acting like this around a man.

“I appreciate it. We missed you at dinner, though. My dad kept complaining that things were quiet now.”

I chuckled, “Eloise and the kids not loud enough?”

He shook his head, “She didn’t come over.”

He tossed his sports bag next to mine and pulled out his swim gear. I caught a flash of his speedo and quickly looked away. The visuals going through my mind were distracting enough.

“Do you want to go over everything before I get changed?” Asked Jimin.

I shook my head, “No, go ahead. It’s going to be a chill day.”

“You got it, coach.”

I did not breathe until I heard the locker room door slam shut. Tossing my clipboard onto my bag, I roughly rubbed my face. I needed to pull myself together.

My attraction was easy to ignore and forget about when he was not in my face, but the second I got my eyes on him it was all I could focus on. I was awkward and fumbling all over the place whenever he was around. I focused on him far too much, far more than I should be due to our relationship, and it was driving me insane. I needed to take a breather, but I did not have enough time and I did not want to make him worried. Jimin seemed like the type of person who would become consumed by anxiety if he thought I was upset with him in any way. No, I would have to suck it up and get through this training session like an adult.

The locker room door opened. Jimin’s bare feet were loud against the gray, stone floor. I refused to look at him. I wasn’t ready yet. Bending over, I grabbed the clipboard and cleared my throat. I was hoping to get him in the water first, and then I could safely conduct myself in a professional way. The less skin I had to see at a time the better. I pointed at the pool.

“Like I said, it’s going to be an easy day,” He was walking away from me, and I felt the tightness in my chest lighten. “You’ve been without a trainer for a bit, and I’m not sure how intense your workouts have been since. Your warmup is just 10 minutes of easy swimming, and then we’ll go over our main set.”

I heard him get into the water with a splash and relaxed. I could handle him in the water. No one looked good with those stupid goggles on. I walked to the edge of the pool, clipboard in my hand, and stole a quick look.

As suspected, he did not look as potent like this. His hair was hidden beneath a red and white cap, and blue goggles obstructed most of his face. It was impossible to make out most of his body as he glided through the water, but I got a great look at his arms. He was more muscular than I gave him credit for. He was smaller and more lean than other swimmers, but I could see why he was able to dominate.

He was very fast, but I could already tell he was pushing harder than I wanted him to. Blowing my whistle, I let him know I only wanted him swimming at 80% effort. Jimin pulled a face and lifted his goggles up. Now that he was stagnant, I got a clear look at his chest and swallowed thickly. He needed to start moving or else I might have a heart attack.

“Why?” He was incredulous.

“Like I said, I don’t want you to overwork yourself. You’ve been on a vacation for four weeks now and we need to work our way back up to more intensive sets. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks.”

He pushed back again, “I’ve been coming here every day for hours. I think I’m fine.”

I shook my head, “I’m not trying to be a dick, and I’m not calling you a liar, but I am skeptical of the quality of the training.”

“But-”

“I haven’t been here to see your routine,” I cut him off before whatever smart ass comment he was planning to say could even come out. Jimin’s annoyance was plain as day, and I was not about to put up with a tantrum. “I’m known for being a hard ass, and I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. You can ask Coach Bunch about me if you want. I will make sure you’re in the best shape of your life this year, but not at the expense of getting you injured.”

He took a deep breath before responding, “With all due respect, I’ve been putting in a lot of work by myself. I don’t think I need kid gloves.”

I smirked, cocking my head to the side. “Is that what you think this is?”

“Isn’t it?” He shrugged, pouting.

He was cute when he was mad.

“Humor me,” I replied. “We do things my way for the week and if I think you’re good to go by Friday then we’ll get back to normal training. How does that sound?”

Jimin thought for a moment before smiling at me.

“I can live with that.”

I chuckled, “Good to know. Now, put your goggles back on and finish your warmup. We’re wasting time arguing.”

As I suspected, once we started our drills, he did not perform up to the standards I had for him. Even at 75% what he was capable of, I could already see the areas he needed to work on. His butterflies were beautiful, but I could pick apart his breast and back strokes. I was happy with his free swim at the end, and I was going to start there the next session. I was hoping by starting off with compliments that we could become more comfortable with one another before I had to get serious. Those breast strokes would drive me insane until he could execute them perfectly every time.

“How am I doing?” Jimin asked during a cool down, doing a few laps before we started our drills again. “I know my breast strokes aren’t that great. I’ve always struggled with them.”

At least he was self-aware, I thought.

“We definitely have stuff to work on,” I replied. “Don’t worry too much about that right now. We can start talking about it more next week.”

He sighed, annoyed, and I laughed. He was very grumpy when it came to his swimming. Not wanting to upset him again, I decided to give him something.

“I would like to watch you swim a bit more and make a plan before giving you my opinion. My coach used to do that with me, and I found it helpful.”

We trained until eight-thirty, and I looked over my notes while Jimin cooled down. We did not talk as much as I would have liked, but it was probably for the best. His body was distracting, and I did not think I was doing a very good job at hiding my reactions to him. He did not seem to notice, or he was simply sparing my feelings, either way he was happy to keep relatively quiet. We only talked about training while he was in the water, and I was grateful he was maintaining his professionalism.

“When will we be back again?” Jimin asked, his last few minutes running down on the timer. “You said Wednesday, right?”

I nodded absentmindedly, in my own little world as I flipped through my notes. I had more than I thought I would have, all of them having to do with fixing his form and how we could go about it. New exercises, grueling training days, and a few new tools that I was not sure he had ever used before, would mold him into a swimmer I would glow with pride over. Park had always been a talented man, but I wanted to see if we could reach for something more. Something bigger and better than he could have imagined. I wanted to make Matthew fucking Hamilton look like the incompetent bastard I knew him to be.

“We’re done for the day,” I sighed, clicking the alarm off. “Do you want me to come for your night swim?”

Jimin ripped the goggles off, rubbing his eyes and already going to release his cap. I bit down on the inside of my mouth. He was so pretty and soft, and the way his muscles flexed as he swam to the edge of the pool made my stomach flutter. I looked away before he hoisted himself out of the water. I did not need that image floating around in my already depraved head.

“You can come if you want,” He replied casually. “I’m mostly hitting the gym when I’m here in the evenings. I only take a dip for thirty minutes and leave.”

I hummed, fighting the urge to look at his body. I focused instead on my breathing and writing down what he had just said. I did not want to forget that. It might be useful for me in the future. If we could exercise together, it would give me an opportunity to guide him through some of my favorite tricks to help with swimming.

“Will someone else be with you?”

“Probably Jungkook and Darcy. They’re my usual gym buddies when Milo is working.”

“Darcy’s his girlfriend, right?” I wanted to see if my hunch from the other night was right.

“Yeah. They’ve been going out for a couple of years now. She’s alright. Not as shy as you.”

I snorted, “You think I’m shy?”

Then I made a critical mistake. Looking over at Jimin, I nearly choked on my own spit. His skin was perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, and cream-colored. His body was just as pretty as his face, smooth abs and a tiny waist that led to toned and thick thighs. The tiny scrap of red fabric covering his private area did not stop my eyes from glancing. I looked away before I started to stare.

Hoseok was going to have a field day with this.

“I know you are,” He teased, his voice so soft and sweet. I briefly wondered what he would sound like in bed. I fought desperately to rid myself of that imagery. This could not be happening right now. “You’re so shy you can’t even look at me right now.”

His cocky attitude should have annoyed me, but instead it only further fueled my lust. Every time I had seen this man, he gave me such tonal whiplash it was beginning to drive me insane. First it was this innocent little angel facade that quickly became sarcastic and witty when he decided he could play around without me getting angry. Then it was the whole sad puppy thing he had going on for the last week. Now here he was, practically naked and getting riled up over me telling him what to do, and puffing his chest with confidence I never thought he was capable of. It would have pissed me off if I did not find him ridiculously attractive.

“Go get dressed, Park,” My voice was clipped and too harsh. I winced and quickly worked to soften the blow. Getting defensive only made me look worse. “We can get breakfast if you’re not busy. My treat.”

“Sure, coach.”

When I heard the locker room close, I let out a deep sigh. My sexual frustration was getting in the way of my work, and I hated it. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I sent Hoseok a text.

Me: I think I’m crushing on Park

Me: Help me get rid of it

The reply did not come until I was done packing up my things. The workout stuff I had brought with me had been useless today, but I was afraid of forgetting where they were the next time I might need them, so they never left the bag. My phone vibrated just as I was done zipping up my bag. I could hear the shower in the locker room and clenched my thighs together. I was still thinking of how pretty his belly was, the tattoo on his ribs pitch-black against his pale skin, and how solid his calves looked. I unlocked my phone and nearly cried laughing when I saw the response.

Hobi: HAHAHAHA

Hobi: Sex is always the answer

Hobi: Never thought I’d see the day you became a cougar

I have no idea why I thought he would be any help. So, I licked my wounds and messaged Andy (like I should have done in the first place) and knew whatever she had to say would be far more helpful than my stupid best friend’s word of “advice.” I just had to hope it would be enough to make all of these feelings stop.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#bts fanfic #bts #park jimin #bts jimin #jimin x y/n #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x female reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jimin smut #jimin fluff #strangers to lovers #bts swimming au #jeon jungkook #min yoongi #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #jung hoseok

[littlebugs]

saved - chapter one

azriel x reader series

warnings: she/her reader, a little language, short!reader, reader is the archeon's half sister (no race mentioned), fluffy ish, azriel ooc, sfw, not edited oops, azriel has a big wingspan, elain slander i'm sorry i have to rafs bloo notes: this was supposed to be a blurb but i just...spiraled. first time posting a series here BE NICE. also i kind of imagine this charcater with a evie vibe hence the gif (: description: you're half fae, living life on the borders of various courts after your half siblings got dunked in the cauldron. set after acowar, feyre has invited her half-sibling to Velaris to reunite the family. but what happens after a certain shadowsinger takes interest in you?

The night air in Velaris holds a mystic chill as you ascend the multitude of steps leading to Rhysand's townhouse. More like a deathly chill,  as you’re not dressed for a trek up the small mountain stationed at what seems to be the highest point of Velaris. Finally making it to the top, you keel over, cursing whatever god decided this what your life. 

 Despite the weariness, a sense of anticipation lingers, excitement almost. Or maybe you’re catching frostbite and becoming delusional. After a few minutes, you finally reach the top, swearing and actually panting.  Before you can gather the energy to knock on the door, it swings open, leaving you surprised. 

A tall figure stands in the doorway, the glow of lights inside outlining his broad shoulders. His features, sharp and captivating, come into focus. The eyes, a shade of violet that sparkled with mischief, locked onto yours. Is he tryna rizz me up or- 

The tall figure extends a hand, his handsome face framed by windswept hair. "You look like you've just climbed a mountain. Welcome. I'm Rhysand." The sarcasm in his voice is undeniable, but you refrain from sneering. Ripping your eyes away from the High Lord, you notice two more figures emerging from behind him. One, with an easygoing grin and tousled hair, winks at you. The other, with piercing hazel eyes that observe with a quiet intensity, makes no move. They’re all very hot.

Rhysand vaguely gestures toward them, "This is Cassian, and Azriel."

Cassian, the one with the easy grin, greets you warmly, and you smile back. Azriel's gaze lingeres, still not making any moves, but stepping aside to allow you to enter. Finally out of this cold ass bit- You hear Rhysand snicker behind you, laughing at an unheard joke. Or maybe you’re the joke. It’s hard to tell. 

Only seconds after crossing the threshold, a joyous commotion erupts from deep within the townhouse. Feyre, Nesta, and Elain, a hurricane of brown hair and laughter, rush towards you. Feyre, her vibrant blue-gray eyes lit with happiness, embraces you first. "You made it!" Her hug crushes you, and you swear you hear a rib snap. 

Nesta, looking bored, adds, "It's been too long." But you swear you can see a hint of a smile on her lips as she hugs you alongside Feyre. And finally, Elain, looking sort of sickly but better than when she was human, joins the embrace. "I’ve missed you" she says softly, her arms wrapping around you. 

The reunion unfolds with laughter and hugs, your sisters laughing and examining you, everything from your hair, to your shoes, and kind of scandalous outfit which Elain pales at. 

After they finally get tired of you (you swear a singular tear escaped Nesta’s eye.) Feyre guides you into a sitting room, which is charming and cozy at the same time. Taking a seat on a couch, you find yourself flanked by Feyre and a blonde headed fae, smiling almost too widely at you.

As soon as you turn to look at her, she starts talking. Very fast. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you! Feyre has told us so much about you!"

You stammer, shocked by her swiftness “Oh, uhm I-”

Rescuing you from introduction, Elain chimes in, from the couch. "This is Mor, Rhys's cousin, and that's Amren, who's…yeah," her face strains at the mention of Amren, as she gestures to a woman sulking in a corner, who looks at you with nothing but disdain in those oddly shiny eyes. Almost.. silver? You quickly look away, trying to avoid her gaze.

As you settle into the space, the blonde, Mor, starts yammering on about some sort of dress. You listen intnetly, until your sister's mate enters the room. 

Rhysand, (The most delightful, cunning, handsome High Lord, as Feyre has told you,) takes the seat across from you, his two friends joining him. Almost out of earshot, he quietly leans toward Azriel. "What's going on, Az? You're acting strange."

Azriel, the one who has not said a word to you since you’ve arrived, remains silent, his focus elsewhere. He’s actually very….attractive. Like a greek god, like you would just let him throw you across the room and- 

Rhys snorts, distracting you from your train of thought. Almost like he heard what you were thinking. Oh. The blonde on your left quickly distracts you, laughing loudly, as the Cassian lad rants about the quickest way to behead someone, which is just..swell. And all the meanwhile Rhys and Feyre stare at each other giggling. Feyre opens her mouth in shock and Rhys nods, gesturing to you, engaged in silent conversation

Raising your arms up in silent defeat, you get up and walk to what seems to be a kitchen. With no food. Which is just-  You nearly jump as Azriel basically appears out of nowhere. He shoots you a seemingly uncharacteristic smile as he observes your bemused expression.

"Curious about the kitchen, aren't you?" Azriel's voice, deep and resonant, carries warmth. Very at odds at how he looked at you like you were some sort of demon  five minutes ago. 

You nod, very confused with the switch up, and lack of any food, while drinking in his appearance. His hair, dark and tousled, frames a face chiseled with handsome features. Hazel eyes, deep and mysterious, hold intensity that make you never want to look away. Why he kinda…  Feyre and Rhysand start laughing again, and you feel yourself getting flustered.

"Is there something I'm missing?" You ask, gesturing to the seemingly empty kitchen.

Azriel leans against the counter, looking oddly casual. He crosses his muscular arms across his chest in a way that makes you shiver, and continues "In this house, you don't find the food. You just..think of it."

Confusion lifts from your face as Azriel just…thinks. In an instant, the kitchen responds. A tall glass of water appearing in front of him automatically, as if the room itself is eager to please.

You can't help but marvel, "That's incredible." You look at him, but to meet his eyes you have to physically tilt your head, and as he loos down at you, the height difference is obvious.

With a stretches flex of his arms, his impressive wings unfold gracefully, each membrane extending with a mesmerizing precision. As the Illyrian basically flexes, the intricate webbing catches the light, with wings that are far bigger than the ones you saw on Rhysand at the door.

From the living room, a conversation commences "What is Azriel doing?" Cassian whispers, smirking slightly. Rhysand, clueless himself, raises an eyebrow. 

As you borderline gape, you catch Elain's gaze intensifying, frustration apparent in her expression. You can only wonder, why as Cassian blurts out from the other room "Well, someone's feeling extra dramatic today."

You look over to Rhysand, leaning back with a sly smile adding, "I didn't know our shadowsinger had a flair for the theatrical."

Azriel, with a casual shrug, replies, "Just felt like stretching my wings a bit."

Breaking the heavy silence that fell over the group, Mor finally breaks into laughter. "Well, well, Az. I never thought I'd see the day. What's next, a dance number?"

The group laughs, but seeing Elain’s pointed stare, you make your way back to the sitting room, leaving the Illyrian in the kitchen, unbeknownst to you, disappointed. 

______________________

As the night deepens, members of the once noisy dinner party leave one by one, leaving the town home quieter than it was. With only the three Illyrians and the blonde (whose name you keep forgetting) you head towards the stairs, bidding them good night. 

Your ascent to the second floor brings you to an opened door at the end of the hallway adorned with what you expect are Night Court aesthetics – moonlit tapestries, celestial motifs, and the faint scent of jasmine lingering in the air. You breathe in, and slowly sit down on your bed, trying to get the hazel eyes and mysterious shadows out of your head.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Azriel stands abruptly, and not so discreetly follows you upstairs. Cassian and Rhysand, left in the living room, exchange bemused glances

Rhysand, eyebrows raised in silent query, looks to Cassian for an explanation. Cassian, shrugging with an amused grin, whispers, "Beats me. Maybe our shadowsinger has a sudden interest in beauty rest."

Intrigued and sensing unspoken mystery, Rhysand and Cassian exchange conspiratorial glances. With shared nods, they decide to venture upstairs, their footsteps quiet as shadows against the Night Court's nocturnal melody.

Back in your room, you find comfort in the surroundings of your room. Moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow on the elegant furnishings. Deciding to settle in for the night, you slip into a set of…you could barely call them pajamas, more like scraps of silk, and stretch your arms, sighing faintly. 

A soft knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. You secretly hope for a certain shadowsinger as you trudge towards the door. Opening it, you silently rejoice to the cauldron as Azriel stands there, his typical shadowed demeanor now softened by an unusual glint in his eyes.

"Mind if I come in?" he asks, breaking the silence.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #inner circle x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel shadowsinger x you #azriel spymaster x you #azriel fluff

[rosepascal]

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

Key

F - Fluff | A - Angst | S - Smut (Must be 18 or older to read/interact with)

oneshots

Trust Issues A F

how many times do i have to tell you you can trust me?

Long Long Night * S

"I'm not done with you." or big dick joel miller fucks you hard

NSFW Alphabet* S

Can't Break a Promise A F

of course the one patrol you're on without Joel is the one that lands you with a knife in your side.

Taken It Easy* S

“Don’t fucking stop, baby.” or you ride a cowboy (even if Joel says he ain't one)

Call My Name A F

Joel is bleeding out and he calls out for someone, but it's not you.

Put On a Brave Face A F

Joel Miller almost loses you the same way he lost his baby girl.

On His Time S

Joel isn't nice and to him you're just a willing cunt to fuck.

You Don't Belong A F

You really like Joel, more than you've ever liked someone before. But the most important person in his life absolutely hates your guts and you have no idea what to do.

I Have No Use For Rings Of Gold A F

The citizens of Jackson have already made their mind up about Joel Miller and the sins of his past. But you don't think the man who sits by the sheep can truly be that bad

A Wound That Never Heals A

For the last twenty years you believed your parents to be dead. But after stumbling upon Jackson with Joel and Ellie you come to discover that's not true at all.

Desire S

You need money and a offering your body for some mutual pleasure doesn't seem like a bad idea. If only you could know the man behind the wall who is set on ruining you for anyone else.

Crave S (Part of the Joel Miller Rated XXX series)

After the mysterious man you now know as Joel Miller leaves you his address and a message to find him, you do just that. How will the man who ruined you be in person?

Strangers ((NON CON/DUB CON WARNING (Part of the Joel Miller Rated XXX series)) S

an attractive man on a crowded train leads to an experience you've never thought you'd ever have

Venom A F

Joel says things he doesn't mean but he's might have pushed it too far this time.

Ups and Downs F

sat next to each other on a rollercoaster as strangers

Kiss and Tell ((Stepdad!Joel) (Part of the Joel Miller Rated XXX series)) S

Joel is your stepdad and your mom goes away for the weekend. Guess its back to normal for the two of you. Normal being fucking behind your mothers back.

beekeeping age F

Joel reads thirst tik tok comments

drabbles

my hero (pre!outbreak Joel) F

best medicine (pre!outbreak Joel) F

beating heart F

dance with me F

rained out F

bad first date F

nursing kink S

squirting S

Series

Joel Miller Rated XXX

A series of joel smut shots based on porn tropes

Say Something (complete) A F

Joel is overprotective to a fault and when he can't express how he feels you leave. But then he comes knocking on your door with a teenage girl and a plea for help. Is it too late to fix what you had before?

The Light Of All Lights (Teacher!Joel x Teacher!Reader) A F

Joel Miller is an AP English teacher on thin ice with administration and a past that has turned him into a cold, withdrawn man. You're the new English 1-2 teacher who didn't get off on the right foot with him. But being forced to work together could change things between the two of you as you learn more about him and about the school.

Bookstore Universe (Bookstore Owner!Joel x Single Mom!Reader)

Miller's Bookstore F

Who knew that taking your daughter to a story time at a local bookstore could lead to meeting its handsome and slightly intimidating owner.

oneshots

Bucket of Bolts F

The dad and the dog he didn't want but its Din Djarin and a BD unit.

Aliit ori’shya tal’din F

Aliit ori’shya tal’din: Family is more than blood

oneshots

You'll Always Find Your Way Back Home F

20 years ago you left your home town to pursue your dreams. Now you're back after your grandmother's passing and you're reunited with your old bestfriend Frankie Morales.

drabbles

sub!frankie S

franking feeling insecure F

frankie going down on you S

Other Pedro Characters

Headcanons

pedro characters getting their dick sucked S

how I think different pedro characters would eat pussy S

pedro characters when you don't feel well

#joel miller #din djarin #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #pedro pascal

[traintomoon]

BIRTHDAY REDEMPTION

summary: where tangerine finds himself at your door, with an apology and some other unintended confessions.

In the dimly lit room, Tangerine and Lemon meticulously scrubbed away any traces of their misdeeds. In a rather odd nature, the music blasting from the radio made the scene unserious. Tangerine sighed, holding the bloody mop in his hands. The floor looked decent now after hours of scrubbing. But the heaviness of metal sat solid in air.

Lemon looked up with a different look in his gaze. "Oi, it was y/n's birthday a few days back. We completely missed it."

Tangerine, usually unflappable, froze for a moment, his expression revealing a rare vulnerability. The look of your face flashed in his eyes, making the knot in his stomach tighter. "What? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Lemon, scrubbing harder as if trying to cleanse more than just the crime scene, continued cautiously. "Didn't think it was a big deal to you, mate. But I've seen the way you look at her. You might wanna make it right."

A wave of guilt washed over Tangerine's face. Without another word, he abandoned the job and dashed out, driven by a sudden urgency to make amends. The cold exterior that usually surrounded him melted away as he raced to your place, his embarrassment outweighing any lingering reluctance.

You hadn't thought much about your coworkers missing your birthday. You had eaten a cupcake after long works of stalking people suspected of smuggling drugs. You had thought of Tangerine and Lemon while blowing out the single candle too, but you won't accept it. Not even in your deepest emotions.

Just as you were preparing to get some sleep, there were loud knocks on your door. You were annoyed at the clamour. You tied a robe around your waist, cursing at the uninvited guest.

"I'm not fucking deaf. Holy shit."

The door creaked open, revealing Tangerine standing there, disheveled. He looked like he had abandoned a war to get there.

"Tangerine? What's... what's going on?"

His gaze briefly met yours, and for a moment, you saw vulnerability in his eyes—something you hadn't witnessed before. He shifted uncomfortably.

"What the fuck am I doing? I must have lost my fucking brain." Tangerine muttered under his breath.

"Tan, what's going on?"

The man in front of you took a deep breath, gathering his composure back. "Oi, listen here, I'm sorry. Forgot your bloody birthday. My bad, love."

Confusion mingled with amusement as you processed his unexpected admission. Tangerine, the enigmatic figure with a guarded demeanor, was standing on your doorstep, practically unraveling. The same person who didn't blink when you got shot in the leg last year.

"Are you sick? You came all the way here to say this? I appreciate it, Tan. But it's just a stupid birthday."

The air suddenly was filled with tension you didn't expect to feel.

"Look. I care about my apology because we work the kind of job that doesn't guarantee the security of life." If the lights were dim, you wouldn't have witnessed a small blooming colour cover Tangerine's cheeks.

"You could've texted."

"Texted? Blimey, love, I'm more of a face-to-face bloke, ain't I?" Tangerine refused to meet your eyes. You felt like he was hiding something more. That was until you saw some blood on the side of his forehead.

"I really hope this isn't yours." You held his hand, pulling him inside, closer to you. He felt a rush of heat reach his head when you pressed your thumb on his skin, wiping away the red.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Tangerine's voice came out low. You met his eyes, something hidden flashing in them. This handsome man looked even better close up.

"You tell me. Why are you acting weird? You like me Or something?" You surprised yourself at the bravery of your questions.

Tangerine blinked, refusing to put distance between you two. He drew slightly closer. "Why? Do I need to ask your parents' permission, love?"

"No." Your eyes moved down to his lips. Your hand now rested on his chest. The thumping inside his chest vibrated against your fingertips.

"Shall I bloody kiss you then? Because this is frustrating me."

Before you could process it, Tangerine, typically a man of few words, let his actions speak. In a sudden, daring move, he cupped your face, his lips meeting yours in a feathery touch. You kissed him back, making him melt in your wordless answer.

#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #lemon bullet train #fluff fanfic #writers on tumblr

[bits-and-babs]

The Last Supper || Leto Atreides x Reader

-> Rating: 18+

-> Word Count: 6.8k!!!

-> When an ornithopter crashes in Fremen territory, you feel compelled to nurse the handsome stranger you find inside back to health.

Gif Credit doesn’t belong to me!

TW/CW: mentions of death. detailed injury, angst, oral (f receiving), p in v sex. Not beta read.

The figure that occupies the head of your dinner table, whose shoulders are broad, imposing, and carrying an impossible weight of duty was once a stranger who fell from the sky.

Memories of that pivotal day are seared into your mind as though someone had left a branding iron out in the scorching Arrakeen sun and pressed it to the grey swirls of your brain. The violent vibrations of the ornithopter colliding with the dunes beyond the sietch in which you lived had shocked you from your slumber overnight, causing you to dart from your bed for fear of another Harkonnen attack. Despite it being only a handful of months since the oppressive regime of House Harkonnen had departed your beloved home world, you still feared them.

While it was almost unquestionable to you that The Baron would launch an attack upon his cousin, Duke Leto Atreides having been gifted Arrakis from the Emperor himself, the shell shock that persisted beyond the Harkonnen retreat often left you fearful for your life when loud noises emerged from the desert plains. Only the repeated muffled knocks of thumpers and, ironically, the swish of sand being moved aside by the enormous bodies of the sandworms Shai-Hulud brought you any semblance of comfort that all was as it should be.

The boom that reverberated throughout the desert sands belonged to neither, and so the panic had arisen in you, making you feel inexplicably cold for such a scorched planet. Having dragged yourself from the security of your own bed, you had stumbled through the dark seitche’s passageways and into the arid wasteland. Others had joined you on your investigation, both concerned and intrigued by the noise that had aroused them from their own peaceful slumber.

Scattered shrapnel peppered the sandy terrain and smoke billowed from the large transport that lay upon its side, which you now knew to be an Ornithopter. The glow of the moonlight reflected off the metal with which it was made, the argent luminescence your only light source with which to navigate in the pitch-black night.

You’re not at all sure what overcame you, thinking back on it you’d consider it a form of divine intervention from the Old Gods, but your legs carried you down onto the warm grains of sand before you even had time to consider why you were doing so. The compulsion to check upon the pilot inside was potent, the sole drive of your feet sinking into dusty grains with each step.

Upon first assessment you knew instantaneously that the co-pilot had been killed in the collision, his eyes rolled so far back into his skull that he stared back at you with only the whites of his eyes as blood poured down his eyelids. As for the man beside him, you could see the rise and fall of his sternum through the stillsuit that clung tightly to his skin, immediately alerting you to the fact he was still alive. With some rather insistent compelling to your people, all of you had managed to safely remove the unconscious man from the wreckage before the Shai-Hulud swallowed the impotent vehicle.

Injuries were extensive, a large gaping wound that ran from the curve of his shoulder and down the inside of his bicep was deep enough to show the bone. Minor cuts litter his face like the ones above the thick hair of his brows and to his lip. A rather large bump had formed on his forehead, flourishing a deep purple in the time it had taken to remove him from the ornithopter and inside the sietch. It was only reasonable to believe that if his external damage was so severe, his internal lacerations would equal, if not exceed those you could assess with your own eyes.

Heated squabbles had broken out amongst your fellow Fremen about who would be unlucky enough to receive the ‘off-worlder’ into their home. Perhaps you had subconsciously decided to take responsibility for him due to your insistence upon saving him, but once again you felt obliged to step in for the vulnerable man who lay at your feet. In the end, you had given him your bed to rest in while you had slept endless weeks on the floor.

Recovery was a long and strenuous process. Providing Spice during his extensive oblivion proved to help with his pain, seemingly resting better with the hallucinogen in his system. Stitches had to be provided to suture the wound upon his shoulder, yet another thing you agreed to do for his comfort. You remember the nervousness you had felt stripping him from his stillsuit to begin the procedure, and what you once thought was anxiety surrounding hurting him during the process you now knew to be caused by the warmth radiating from the naked skin of his chest beneath your fingers.

Many hours were spent gazing at the insensible man who occupied your bed. Eventually, you had grown accustomed to studying the slopes of his face before you joined him in slumber from your place on the floor. Within a week you had him all memorized, down to the angle of the bridge of his nose, the pinpoint precision of where freckles dotted his face, and even the location of the grey strands of his dense beard which you continued to groom for him in his incapacitated state.

Weeks passed before the stranger awoke from his extended rest. The whites of his eyes were tinged the palest blue after many nights of using Spice to alleviate the agony he appeared to be in, but his irises remained the most remarkable umber color. So stunning was this shade, you imagined they resembled the rings hidden in the bark of the palm trees you had heard resided in the courtyard of the Fenring’s house. Considered so holy were these trees that they were supplemented by forty liters of water a day, sacrificing a hundred people daily for their beauty. Upon seeing this stranger's eyes for the first time, you vaguely remember considering that you would be willing to sacrifice one hundred people a day as payment for glancing into them for but a few seconds.

You can recall the shock that wracked your body at the quiet of his accent that floated on the silence in the room, the tone regal and not of this planet. So simple was his singular word request, voice hoarse from weeks of neglect, but it rendered you wholly delirious; “Water?”

Parched, chapped lips pressed desperately to the rim of the chalice that you held to his mouth, gulping down water as though it were nectar and almost justifying the trouble you had gone to in order to retrieve the liquid for him. Supplies of water were few and far between on Arakkis, but you were convinced that if anyone required what little reserves you had, it was him. Despite awakening, it would be a further week until the man was stable enough to think logically and provide full sentences in which to hold a conversation.

“Where am I?” His voice had sounded much clearer then, traveling better across the stagnant air of the caves in which your sietch resided thanks to your endless hours of care. You had supposed it was the logical step of the inquiry, given you had provided your name multiple times during his stay with you in order for him to feel at ease and thus erasing the question of ‘who?’

“My bedchambers. You needed rest,” you admitted softly, as though you had been worried a loudly-spoken syllable would rip open his stitches and undo the hard work you had both endured to nurse him back to this stage of health. “Do you remember how you came to be here?”

The outsider seemed to have considered that question carefully before slowly shaking his head, those bewitching eyes gazing upon the ceiling of the cave rock above his head. “No.”

Pauses between questions to allow him to gather his thoughts had felt considerate given he was still dosed on spice to maintain the pain relief that aided him in sleep. “Do you remember your name?”

Despite being a member of the fiercest warrior group known to the galaxy, none of the battles nor hardship you had faced could have possibly prepared you for his answer. “My name is Duke Leto Atreides, head of House Atreides, ruler of Caladan, and steward of Arrakis via Imperial decree.”

The Duke had been considerate to the Freman, striking a deal through Stilgar that the sietches were considered off-limits to the outsiders, and that your people would never be hunted as long as he ruled in return for the ability to harvest spice. Refusing to push him further after the revelation of his true identity, you never questioned Leto on how he happened to be beyond the shield wall that fateful night. You didn’t need to know, you were simply grateful that he was.

Days beyond that conversation were mostly occupied with dressing his wounds as delicately as your fingers would allow you, the twisting jab of guilt that pierced your gullet every time the Duke groaned in pain enough to cause your hands to shake. Those enchanting eyes would watch your face the entire time, glancing at you with a sparkle of amusement and admiration, adding to the pressure you felt to make the bandages as comfortable as the gauze fabric would allow.

A month into his time with you, The Duke was able to sit up in bed, and aided in medial chores such as whittling wood as payment for your treatment. By this point, you had grown to know much about him. From his work as the steward of Arrakis to his beloved son Paul, who he was insisting he needed to get back to. Conveniently, The Duke had left out the details of the child’s mother but you were certain that the woman named Jessica that he called out to in his restless sleep had something to do with it.

When he was able to stand, The Duke insisted upon taking the floor to sleep on now that he was well enough. You remember his demanding tone. ‘The ache in your back must be immense, resting on the floor for so long.’ It was only after yelling at him for a substantial amount of time, to which he replied calmly and unflinchingly, that you relented. The two of you agreed to share the mattress together. Many a morning after that, you would find his fingers woven through your hair and the plane of his forehead pressed to yours. It was the only time he ever looked truly at peace, when the canyon creases between his brows eased and his warm breath caressed the skin of your face. Without his greying hair, he’d look years younger this way.

Mobility signaled the end of your time with the Duke, whose devotion to his role under the thumb of the Emperor meant he was already considering his return to Arrakeen to inform his people of his survival. With his vitals stabilizing, and the stitches falling out of the pink scar that ran down his shoulder, you knew that his departure was imminent. The thought tortured you at night, to know that soon you would not wake with him by your side. You dedicated every waking moment to committing his already retained face to memory, terrified that you had missed tiny details such as minute scars on his brow or the length of his lashes. You had to remember all of him.

Feasibly, it was the reason you now watched his every move at the diner table. Sat cross-legged on the sandy floor, The Duke had abandoned the nobility of Caladan to execute your way of living as thanks for your selflessness. There was no sense of pride, no superiority. Though he seems preoccupied with the food you provided, he’s acutely aware of the way you gaze upon his face with a devastating sense of loss, the crushing feeling squeezing the remaining oxygen from your lungs with each exhale.

The candlelight casts a golden glow around him, so warm and ethereal in contrast to the silvery, cold illumination from the moon that guided you to him that night. He looks more beautiful this way, healthier and stronger. Had he not been so obviously human, his charm and elegance would lead you to believe him otherworldly. Perhaps it was naive of you to have spent so much of your time together believing the Gods had gifted this angel that fell from the sky to you - they gave and they took, and this was no different.

There is a pause in his eating, his eyes drifting towards you and catching you in your disoriented state. The blue tinge caused by the spice use has faded now, reliance on the pain relief receding along with the agony it sedated. You can’t bring yourself to look away in shame of being caught staring when it would be precious time wasted not looking at him. He does not scold you, as the newly appointed leader of this world should, simply offers you a reassuring gaze of his own, those holy-palm eyes assessing your own as tears welled in them.

“My Desert Rose,” he murmurs, his voice like a trickle of sand in a timekeeper, almost silent. The term of endearment causes your skin to prickle with both resentment and adoration, the dichotomy so bewildering that it makes you nauseous. “Thoughts plague your mind. Share them with me and ease the burden.” You hate him for being so kind, for enchanting you further.

It was exactly this part of his personality that had delighted you. The part that had eased you during your night terrors that consisted of Harkonnen attack by pressing you to his naked chest, the thrum of his heart against your sternum, and the soft whispers of consolation easing you from your dream-world and back into his arms. He would trace his calloused fingertips across the length of your spine, starting at the base of your skull where your hairline began and trailed down until his touch halted upon the lumbar vertebrae between the dimples of your lower back and back again. He would repeat this motion as long as it took for you to slip back into a dreamless slumber.

“There is nothing to unburden myself with, Your Grace.” The use of the honorific feels clunky between your lips, just as much of a lie as your promise of a peaceful mind. He isn’t The Duke here in these caved walls, he is simply Leto. Your Leto. The thought causes the precious moisture to seep from your eyes and spill down your cheeks. A waste. The sacrifice would do nothing to change the fate that awaited you in the morning.

“I do not require vast knowledge to recognize deception, Rose,” he speaks to you softly, each syllable carefully crafted in tone and pitch. Clearly he can sense your internalized agony and is careful not to stoke the flames of emotional distress that threaten to devour you.

“It is nothing of importance,” you promise him as you wipe away the salty tears dripping from your chin and soaking into the fabric of your inside clothes. You pick at the various tones of beige and brown, pulling at threads in your tunic in a final effort to divert your attention from the thoughts of the morning that crept in. That return to your bed without him in it, having seen him disappear into the dunes.

Prolonged silence follows, and you feel Leto’s eyes settle on your face. The gaze doesn’t burn, it calls to you, whispering your name as if begging for you to return to the conversation at hand. To return to him and leave the turmoil that crashed through your mind.

“Anything which causes you distress is of importance to me.” Leto’s voice pierces the makeshift mental armor as though it was made of melted wax. It’s impossible to deny him, hopeless to try to evade him in this moment. He’s unrelenting, not in the way sandstorms violently whip at your skin but similar to that of the survival of Desert Mice Muad'Dib on Arrakis. Quiet and steady.

You simply shake your head with a weak smile, refusing to share with him your devastation. Whatever bloomed from the vulnerability of admission would not be worth the anguish it caused you.

“Then bless me with any other thought you are willing to share,” he murmurs softly, reaching across the smooth stone to take up your palm in his own. Both are calloused, but for wholly different reasons. Yours are roughened from years of hand-to-hand combat, gripping crysknife handles and whetting them with Harkonnen blood. His skin, as you had come to learn, was strengthened from the grip of ornithopter controls over many years, flying until his fingers blistered from the tight grasp. Two warriors from the old and the new.

A weak laugh bubbles in you, the sound bouncing off the wall enough to bring a smile to The Duke’s lips. “I have nothing else that occupies my mind but you.” The acknowledgment turns your stomach almost instantly, even fearing his response to something as inconsequential as that. “I simply savor my time with you.”

“As do I.” It’s like he senses your hesitation, not delaying as he slides around the corner of the table to seat himself beside you. It’s as though he can no longer bear to be separated by the stone slab and must have you close. The action alone makes you fluster, your resolve already weakening with him at your side.

Picking at the meat of the desert hare you had prepared, you smile to yourself. Leto had a gift at lightening the weight of the room, even when he was still unwell, he managed to talk you out of your worries and ease your mind with his steady, unwavering calm.

“You must keep your beard as a respectable length, Your Grace. I worked hard to maintain it for you.” The change in subject is obvious, a little juvenile, but if Leto notices this is a desperate attempt to avoid speaking on your emotions he does not push you. Instead, he laughs, the sound as refreshing as if you had plunged into reserves of cool water on a particularly blazing hot day.

“I will ensure I take proper precaution to preserve its style,” Leto assured, the amusement interlaced between each syllable floods you with a warmth only he has evoked in you, pleasant and addictive. For the Fremen to suffer withdrawal from Spice was lethal, cruel, prolonged suffering. Yet, you couldn’t think of anything more painful than to withdraw from Leto’s embrace, to eliminate your fix of his soft touch and the gentle reassurance in his eyes.

Silence followed, your thoughts carrying you away before you can even think to answer. The meat of the desert hare is slick under your fingers, the dark meat leaking juices across your skin as you continue to pick at it, to ponder if you would even be able to stomach food or even breathe without him by your side.

“… Why must you leave?” There’s a ringing in your ears, the question bringing pause to the two of you. Though Leto seems surprised by the query, you hold firm even at the risk of upsetting him.

“I need to return home to my son, Paul. To Jessica-“ the name stings as though he had slapped you across the cheek, resignation cutting like his signet ring splitting your cheek open upon impact. You’re not sure as to why, but his hold on your palm feels as though he was cruelly sweeping salt into the wound. Leto was kind, so kind that he didn’t realize it was almost to a fault. That he drew everyone in, and you had no doubt that his devotion to his duty often left the people he loved, that loved him, feeling rather neglected.

“Am I not enough?” It’s a selfish comment, cruel. Doubtless his son, his family would be far more deserving of his attention than a stranger with whom he had spent the majority of his time within a state of unconsciousness. Did he even yearn for you the same way that you ached for him, or was that piercing gaze you had considered so often as romantic truly just an aching pity he felt for you, crawling around and sleeping on floors for him only to be brutally rejected despite your efforts.

The sinking realization causes more precious tears to spill over your cheeks, your lower lip trembling like a child. You felt infantile too, like a youngster who wailed for something they could not have despite their guardians’ insistence. Leto does not treat you as such, simply leans across the table with his free hand to swipe away the tears with the pad of his thumb.

“You are more than enough.” He assures you gently, his voice barely a whisper. “You are an oasis upon the horizon after decades of dry spells. You are the Desert Rose that grows when nothing else has the capacity in this desolate wasteland. You are enough and more.” His words twist in your stomach like a crysknife, sharp and painful despite their delicate care.

“You never once made me feel this way.” A lie. Leto never had to tell you, not once having to speak aloud how he cared for you. The adoration seeped into the palm-tree rings of his eyes, so intense you had often thought you could feel his fondness dancing across your skin like a lover's touch.

He hesitates for a moment, as though the realization that he had failed to put his admiration into words for you finally sank into the pits of his stomach. His greying brow furrows slightly as he continues to caress the curve of your cheekbone and think up a viable response. You can see him hesitate, mouth opening and then pressing into a thin line.

To see him struggle pains you, knowing you had pushed him into this difficult conversation rather egotistically. Before he has time to think of a response, the words are pouring from your lips as though you had cast a basin full of water onto the dusty floor. You tell him of your feelings that had grown for him over the many nights you had sat in silence watching him rest, that it was the Old Gods who had sent him to you knowing that he was exactly what you needed. These emotions inside you were further tormented by the long nights of conversation when you were plagued with your night terrors, his fingers soothing your spine and voice easing your soul. To say you would die for him felt obsolete. You wished to live for him, to dedicate every single moment of your life to him and his happiness.

Leto listens to every word. You could have been rambling for seconds or for hours, yet he makes no attempt to interrupt or reject your experience. He doesn’t even nod or shake his head, perfectly still as he listens apart from the thumb sweeping across your knuckles. When you pause, inhaling shakily to ease your burning lungs after talking uninterrupted for so long, he appears to contemplate your words. You admired that in him, not only hearing but listening, truly understanding the gravity of each admission you had painfully wrung from your heart just for him.

Silence was something you had grown accustomed to in the desert, nothing but sand on a mild day rendered your surroundings inaudible. A lifetime of tranquility would lead you to believe you would be comfortable in the quiet, but the pause between you and The Duke causes your stomach to cramp with nerves.

Just as you feel the silence would render you insane due to your pulse thrumming in your ears, Leto reaches for your face and cups it daintily, like you would break apart in his hands if he was too rough with you. Perhaps you would.

Slowly, tentatively he leans across the stone and brushes his nose against yours. He doesn’t leap in, allowing you the chance to pull away from his affections. You don’t, the shaky rise of your chest as you inhale the only movement you make to his silent question. How like The Duke not to waste his breath explaining when he could simply, efficiently present how strongly he felt for you by pressing his lips to yours.

The plush of his lips against your own causes your heart to stutter with shock, despite having presented yourself for it. Leto’s beard rasps softly against your skin when he kisses you and the palms that cup your face, though calloused and rough, are gentle as they hold you to him. The both of you have surpassed yearning, gone beyond desperation. You’re clinging on, terrified of letting go for fear of never being able to hold him again- the fear is so tender, like an open wound.

Grasping at the fabric of his tunic, you pull Leto impossibly closer. His nose is pressed firmly into your own, almost uncomfortably, but he’s grinning into the kiss and you’re kissing his teeth, the two of you fumbling with giddiness and bordering on delirium. The stoic general, the head of House Atreides is reduced to boyish laughter at the way you kiss him over and over, showering him with the affection you had locked away within yourself ever since you felt that inexplicable need to help him out of the ornithopter on that day.

“Rose,” he murmurs softly, through the repetitive press of your lips against his own, hands skirting down the sides of your covered ribs. Leto is trying to ease you, trying to bring you down from that cliff face by soothing you into enjoying every second rather than panicking about what would happen at the end of your tryst.

Catching your lips in a stronger kiss, he notes your trepidation, the slight tremble in your body as he sweeps those same calloused fingertips down the bare skin of your arm. It sparks an unfamiliar heat in you, one that warms you from the inside but causes your skin to goosebump. Before you can even consider it, remind yourself that he is the Steward of Arrakis appointed by the Emperor, you’re winding your arm around his neck to draw him impossibly closer.

Pushed forward by a need that settles deep in your abdomen, twisting and coiling almost painfully, the kiss takes a very sudden turn. It’s no longer sweet as it is eager, his tongue sweeping across your lower lip as pulls you forwards by your elbows to ease you into his lap.

You’d always known Leto was strong, he’d been heavy when you needed to twist his comatose body in order to clean his wounds. However, there was something awe-inspiring at the ripple of his muscles underneath your touch when he wrapped his arms around your waist so you were pressed flush to his chest. He flowed like ripples in water, smooth and delicate despite his size and powerful poise.

His palms get a little rougher, his fingers pushing divots into the flesh of your hips as his tongue sweeps against your own. There’s no rush, but there’s an entirely different type of urgency, those same hands brushing down the curve of your lower back, the globe of your ass and squeezing.

You can’t help the moan that works its way past your throat at the intrusive touch, the brush of his hardening cock against the inside of your thigh. In all the daydreams that stole hours of your time and the fantasies that painted pictures though you’d mind as you slept beside him, you’d never envisioned Leto to feel so good. It was overwhelming, an unbelievable high that rocked you to your core.

“Your Gra-Ah!” You gasp loudly as he leans you backward to swipe away the food you had failed to eat and lay you against the cool stone table swiftly. The smooth texture presses into your shoulder blades, disagreeable and stiff, but it’s impossible to focus on your discomfort when Leto is pressing lingering, hot kisses up your abdomen as he pushes the fabric of your tunic over the length of your body. The kisses are wet, leaving damp patches of skin along the line of your sternum, and when he blows a soft gust of breath from his lips the area grows cold.

You shiver, whimpering in a wordless attempt to show Leto you liked that. Cold wasn’t something you were used to, but it felt divine when he used it like that, to tease- to please. He continues, mouthing gently at the swell of your now exposed breasts. His beard is rough against your skin, tickling as he lathes his tongue over your pebbled nipples.

The Duke’s resolve appears to break down with your squirms, pressing his hard cock into your clothed cunt in an endeavor to find some friction to ease his own need as he puffs a gentle gust of air across your nipple again. You’re arching your back off the table slab at his ministrations, clit throbbing with need between your thighs.

“Please,” you beg him, implore him as you hook your fingers into the waistband of his brocade woven trousers. He’s nodding against your chest, lips still peppering your skin with kisses and tongue continuing to smooth long, seemingly unaware of just what he was giving permission for when he tugs your own cotton pants over your hips to expose your glistening cunt to his mouth.

Leto barely gives you a moment to argue before he’s pressing his palms into the soft flesh at the back of your thighs, just under your knees, and pushing them back towards your body. The look he gives you, eyes dragging hungrily over your glistening folds causes your heart to leap in your throat. Perhaps it’s years of being a tactician, negotiating his entire life, but he doesn’t leap into it.

Instead, he’s brushing his fingers down your pubic bone, over your aching clit. You’re squirming for him, keening for him when his digits sweep through your soaking folds to gather the evidence of your arousal on his fingertips before raising them to his lips. You find yourself wondering if the cruelty of the Harkonnens cruelty is hereditary because you’re almost certain that this could be some form of torture. You’re pulled up so tight it’s almost painful when he wraps his lips around his soaked fingers and rumbles a groan as the taste of you coats his tongue.

It’s only then that he moves his head between your tense thighs and envelops the dexterous heat of his mouth over your cunt. Your hips have a mind of their own, instantaneously pressing into the pressure there as your eyes squeeze shut and a ragged breath exhales from your lungs and ends with a squeak when the tip of his tongue circles your clit.

It rips through you, the vibration of his groan when he tastes you from the source. You swear your body is tingling all over, pins and needles and the hypersensitivity that comes with it as he laps your slick up with the flat of his tongue. You want to tell him more, want to tell him right there but your words are failing on your tongue every time he nuzzles his nose against your throbbing clit and digs his fingers into your thigh muscles.

Tensing and loosening, the muscles in your hips force them upwards into Leto’s face to chase the blinding pleasure that he sparks through you. It’s like they think he’ll pull away and abandon you with this torturous heat between your legs, forcing you to suffer through on your own. But he stays firm, tongue sinking into your wet heat and seemingly pushing his face impossibly closer into your heat.

He’s so slow with it, refusing to rush when he planned to draw this out as long as he possibly could. The drag of his tongue against the aching bundle of nerves is nerve-inducing, your toes curling into the flesh of his shoulder as he pulls sparks of bliss from you.

“Oh, please,” you sob out, sounding utterly wrecked with your desperate heaves of air through your lungs. Carding your fingers through his greying curls, you grasp tightly onto the strands of hair and try to speed up the chase to your orgasm by anchoring his face to you and grinding your clit against his nose. All proprietaries, all respect fizzles out thanks to his devilish tongue, and he’s huffing amused laughs against your wet folds at the impropriety of your actions. His hands are quick to take ahold of your pelvis, pushing it against the stone and causing you to cry out in distress.

“Shh shh,” he hushes you gently, raising himself from between your thighs to press soft kisses to your lips. You’re smeared across his mouth, his beard soaked and it’s so sexy. Tasting yourself on his lips, his tongue is enough to make your brain short circuit entirely, breathy moans sounding into his mouth.

You’re not sure when it happens, but his pants are pushed from his own hips when he pulls away from the kiss, the slow, gentle rhythm he had set flipped on its head when he’s sweeping his cock through your folds quickly. Snapping your eyes open quickly, you can see the tick in his jaw, the flush of his cheeks, and the hunger in his eyes. He can’t wait any longer. You can’t wait any longer, a whole month of silently praying to the Gods, old and new, just to feel him insid-

The air in your lungs dissipates with a yell of shock when he suddenly pushes into you with full force. But fuck- fuck you’re so wet that there’s no resistance, his cock slipping through your soaked cunt all the way down to the hilt with such ease it nearly pulls both of your orgasms from you simultaneously. It’s apparently all he needs for the final tether of his resolve to snap because he’s slamming into you with such force that your hands are blindly searching for his shoulder to cling onto due to your eyes being squeezed shut.

You hadn’t seen him, hadn’t had the chance, but you can feel how thick he is, your cunt stuffed full of his cock as he rocks in and out of you at a brutal pace that has your thighs trembling already. The hands on your hip bones are pulling you back onto his cock to meet each thrust, somehow pushing him even deeper against something utterly devastating inside you.

“My beautiful Desert Rose,” he murmurs thickly, somehow managing to keep an even tone as he destroys you, your nails digging into his skin and cries drowning out his voice. “So beautiful, blooming for me like this.” His voice is husky, gravelly with arousal as you flutter around his cock at the sound of his name for you and the affection laced through his voice.

Then he’s pressing his forehead to your collarbone, back arched over you and curls tickling the curve of your neck as he finds a different angle in which to hit that blinding spot inside you. His lips pressing against your skin in gentle kisses underneath your ear feel feather light in comparison to the harsh grind of his hips against your own.

“I am s-so lucky… to have fallen from the sky for you.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear. It’s the most heartbreaking thing anyone has ever said to you- beautiful but with an air of finality that makes your heart twist up painfully, but you can’t focus on that pain for very long because your orgasm arcs up violently when his finger brushes at your clit with delicate precision.

“Pl-Please, please, I’ll go a-anywhere with you, Don’t-“ he’s smothering your lips with a desperate kiss that steals the air from your lungs before you’re able to complete your sentence before you’re able to ask. Don’t leave me.

You cunt clamps hard around his cock, sobbing weakly against his mouth as he draws tight little circles against your clit with his fingertip. His other hand is winding through the hair at the base of your neck, continuing to push the head of his cock up against your g-spot. Your pussy is soaking him, drenching him in your slick as he ruts up into you once, twice-

You’re clawing at his tunic with a broken cry as everything pulls up sharp and tight and blazing hot. It’s bursting through you, blinding, overwhelming as you gush around him, thighs shaking violently as you throw your head back. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t stop circling your clit until you’re crying, pushing his hands away desperately from overstimulation, his hips still fucking into you throughout.

When you come to, you realize he’s still not stopping, thrusting into you with that same brutal pace as he groans in your ear, the sound licking white-hot pleasure up your spine. With your eyes rolling back into your skull, he focuses on that spark of arousal, forcing you to endure the build-up once more as you disregard his title and call him by his name.

-

Leto pleasured you until dawn broke. His hands, his tongue, his cock all working to draw orgasm after orgasm from you, murmuring constantly about refusing to allow a moment to pass without making you feel good. I want I cherish this night with you.

He’d lay in bed with you afterward, surrounded by the light covers with you curled at his side as he whispered in your ear, telling you of his homeland, Caladan. The beaches, the rain. So much water, more than you could ever hope to see in a hundred thousand lifetimes on Arrakis. To see him smile as he recalled home made you ache for him. It was clear that he missed it, longed for the chance to walk on the beaches with his son once more.

“You will,” you murmur softly, brushing his sweat-damp curls from his forehead and pressing gentle, loving kisses to his brow. He doesn’t answer. You don’t tell him that home for you now lay within his arms.

By morning, he had willed himself from your arms, dressing into his stillsuit. You had managed to salvage it from the crash, mending the damage in order for it to be worn again, but you never thought you would be so unhappy to see it cling to his body again- a visible goodbye.

Standing in the dunes, your arms wrapped around his waist and clinging desperately to him, you find yourself appreciative of the silence of the desert. You can hear the thud of his heart through the stillsuit against your ear, muffled and quiet, but it’s there. You listen ever so carefully, commit the pace to memory as though they were lyrics to a song - the final piece to the image of Leto that you had imprinted on your mind.

“Will you come back for me?” You whisper quietly, knowing well enough that he would soon pull you from his frame to leave, a matter of time until the Fremen who had promised him safe passage across the desert to Arrakeen would insist upon leaving.

“I would never willingly leave you, my Desert Rose.” He murmurs into your hairline, punctuating the sentence with a kiss to the skin there. You know he sounds unsure of himself, unsure of the future. The Gods had given him to you willingly, and you were only too aware of how easily they could take him from you too. It was safer never to make promises.

At the call of your people, Leto takes his time unwinding his body from your grasp. His expression is pained, but with a gentle smile, he steps away, still clinging to your hand with his arm outstretched until he can’t reach you with the distance he had set between you both. When he turns, he doesn’t look back, and sets off across the sand for Arrakeen, to his lover, his child.

Unsure of what exactly possesses you, you stand there with your feet in the sand for as long as you can see him in the distance, climbing the dunes and talking with your people. Hours pass, your eyes strain to see the small speck of black on the horizon, but you force yourself to watch, to fight the ache in your skull and the agony in your ribs as you witness him disappear beyond your range of sight.

You can’t see him, but you continue to watch the horizon. You ignore the hunger setting into your stomach, disregard the heat. You can’t bring yourself to do anything other than pray to the Old Gods and the New, begging them for one thing.

Bring him home.

END

🏷 Taglist: @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @crystalchrysalis19 @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @youngr0se95 @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @wakers-bonkers @ofmortems @hold-our-destiny @xcatnapsx @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @bb-skyrunner

#duke leto #duke leto atreides #duke leto x reader #duke leto x you #leto atreides x you #leto atreides x reader #oscar isaac #Oscar Isaac x reader #dune film #dune #dune fanfiction #paul atreides #jessica atreides #duke leto atreides x reader #duke leto atreides x you #1k+ club

[cambion-companion]

Dark Waltz

Part 2 here

Inspired by the song: Dark Waltz by Hayley Westenra

In celebration of 2,000 followers I wrote a oneshot/drabble of the reader needing to seek comfort in the only person she feels comfortable baring her heart to. I got a little carried away so there is an 18+ only warning for this one.

I do want to continue this in a Part 2 just with pure filth haha but fluff for now

Tag list: @fuckinglittlekitten@bored-and-nerdy@echos-muses@moni-cah@mothertower@runningmunson@gabrieletargaryen@weskamoe@andreeasancheez@fleur-foudroyee@bcon24@tresefitzgibbons@lovesickwildcat@samblackblog@tinykryptonitewerewolf@thesapphirequeen@ohsehunbabyy@bitch-biblioklept@drawing-kitty1@scarletttargaryen@themartiansdaughter@blue-velvet-valentina@megatardisbaby@roseglowx@gotjonsa1@flowerpotmage@sirenofavalon@darylandbethfanforever9@enchantedpendant

Word count: 1,014

Aemond x f!reader | fluff | comfort | light smut toward the end, not explicit

Your soft footsteps padded down the dimly lit stone hallway.  Your cold feet sunk deep into the plush rugs, the hanging tapestries seeming to come to life in the dancing shadows cast by the flickering torchlight.  

You hugged yourself for warmth, wearing only your thin nightshift, the tear tracks still fresh upon your cheeks.  Your eyes were swollen from how long you’d been crying, along in your chambers of the Red Keep.  It was one of those nights, when the demons that haunted your memories came back to torment your mind. When all of your failings and insecurities, the hurt suffered alone and in silence for so long, caused the old aches in your heart to reopen.

Your one source of comfort lay just at the end of this hallway, through the heavy oaken door you found yourself stopping in front of, raising a hesitant hand to knock.  Perhaps this was a bad idea after all, you should gather what remained of your good sense and return to your own bedroom.  The desperation to ease the aching in your chest, to find out if your feelings could be more than a fleeting fantasy, spurred you into action.  

You rapped your knuckles upon the wooden door, a quick sharp sound.  Losing your nerve, you quickly turned and hastened back the way you’d come, stopping frozen as a soft voice called to you from behind.

“Y/N?”

“Aemond.”  Guilt constricted your throat as you faced the prince, his long silver hair disheveled, looking at you with sleepy confusion.

He beckoned you closer, touching your upper arm lightly when you approached. “Is all well?”  He peered closer at your puffy face. “Come.”  Aemond glanced behind you to the still empty hallway before pulling you into his chambers.

It was dark, your eyes taking a moment to adjust, soft moonlight spilled from arched windows across the carpeted floor.

“I couldn’t sleep.”  You felt Aemond’s hand lightly rest upon the small of your back as he guided you further into his room.  

“I gathered as much.”  He walked around you, tilting your chin up with a long finger to better look into your face.  “Is there a specific reason I hear a knock at my door in the middle of the night only to find you fleeing the scene?”

Your face flushed, grateful for the darkness of the room as you gazed into his handsome face.  You and he had become fast friends during your stay at King’s Landing, Aemond had been the one peer you felt comfortable being yourself with. He had become your closest confidant and ally, especially after you had coaxed him into revealing what lay underneath the leather eyepatch he wore at court, revealing the beautifully faceted sapphire.  

His violet eye flicked between your own, measuring your every change in expression as you stared at each other, the heavy silence conveying more than what words could ever achieve.

A look of sympathy creased Aemond’s brow, and your own face crumpled, tears falling freely from your eyes as you fell into his arms, a large hand cupping your head against his chest.

“Who has done you this hurt?  I will have them repay your pain tenfold.”  Aemond placed a gentle kiss to your crown.

You hugged your arms tighter about his waist, breathing in his scent of smoke and leather.  “I just need you to hold me, promise you’ll never leave me, even if it’s not true.”

In a fluid movement Aemond scooped you into his arms, moving to the large bed before depositing you onto the mattress.  You scooched over to give him room as he reclined next to you, pulling you tight against him.  The moon lit his hair in silver radiance, the rest of his face lay in shadow as he wiped the tears from your cheeks.  

He brushed his thumb along your trembling lower lip. “I will never leave you, Y/N.”

A different emotion swelled within you, another tear leaking down your face. Aemond swooped down to kiss the droplet away, his lips trailing to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back. 

“I have trusted you with the secrets I keep most jealously, and you have not turned away.”  Your heart stuttered as Aemond’s hand came up to rest atop the curve of your waist, gripping lightly. “I would never cause you harm of any kind, Y/N.”

Almost as if you were lost in a trance, you reached forward, cupping Aemond’s jaw in your hand, leaning up into him slowly.  He made no move to stop you as you tilted your head, your gaze dropping to his parted lips.  His hand trailed up from your waist, across your shoulder, to grip the nape of your neck, guiding you closer until your lips brushed, your quickening breaths intermingling.  

You pressed further against him, your tongue sweeping into his mouth as you deepened the kiss with a low groan.  Aemond’s fingers tangled in your hair, hot lips moving against yours with increasing intensity, his low sounds of pleasure reverberating against your own chest.

You bit his lower lip gently, before breaking away, molten heat pooling in your core at the expression he wore, the strands of moonlit hair messily falling across his angular face.

“Tell me what you need.” Aemond’s eye was almost pleading as he searched your features.

“I need you.”  Your breath trembled, knowing the both of you danced along the edge of a great precipice.  “Make me forget everything, everyone before you.”

“As my lady wishes.”  Aemond’s lips found yours once more, his touch tender but with the evidence of barely restrained passion he kept in check for your sake.  “Roll over.”  He breathed against your panting mouth, moving over you as your stomach pressed into the soft mattress.

“Do you trust me?”  You felt his weight shift atop you as Aemond’s hands ghosted down your sides to the hem of your nightdress.

“With my life.”  Your voice was thick with desire, raising your hips to help him guide your shift up your body. “With my love.”  A moan escaped your lips as you felt Aemond’s mouth upon your neck, sucking bruising kisses to your tender skin. “With my heart.”

#aemond fluff #aemond x reader #aemond drabble #aemond imagine #aemond oneshot #aemond angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond x reader #prince aemond x reader #aemond stannies #aemond one eye x reader #aemond fic #pro aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!reader

[dcwildwestfest]

Mod's "Most Wanted" - Destiel Western Recs

Howdy! Here are a few fic recs to get you in that Wild West spirit! 🤠

The Shawnee Trail | emmbrancsxx0 (@valleydean)

In 1887, Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak lead a peaceful life in Lawrence, Kansas. Dean and Sam are stagecoach messengers for Wells, Fargo and Castiel is the town doctor. When Castiel's patient, Kelly Kline, knocks on their door one night about to give birth, she asks for the Winchesters and Castiel's help in protecting her son against one of the west's most notorious outlaws. To fulfill that promise, the men set out on a journey full of shootouts, trouble with the law, gambling, and an important discovery: Dean and Castiel really need to define the nature of their relationship.

Hunter's Caress | Ltleflrt (@ltleflrt)

Castiel Jameson won't rest until the outlaw who murdered his brother faces justice, and Dean Winchester is the only man alive who can help him track the villain down. Some say Winchester is a cold-blooded killer himself; others say he'd been wronged his whole life. All Castiel knows is that the desire glinting in Dean's green eyes is even more dangerous than he is. Castiel fights to keep his mind on business, but during the long nights on the trail with the dangerously handsome hunter he finds himself dreaming of yielding to Dean's illicit kisses and losing himself in lawless passion. Dean Winchester is about to hang when Castiel saves his neck with his crazy plan. But dying might be better than spending day and night playing nursemaid to such an infuriating city slicker. He appreciates the stubborn detective's desire for justice, but he'd appreciate Cas a lot more if he'd stop being a lawman long enough to just be a man. He certainly has all the right equipment. Dean aches to run his fingers through Castiel's dark hair, yearns to know how Castiel's golden skin will feel against him. And before the coming of the next dawn, Dean vows to teach him the pleasures and sweet rewards of a Hunter's Caress.

Wheat Fields and Jars of Light | krisham, violue (@violue)

It's the mid-1880s. Grieving the loss of his twin brother, Castiel Novak is on a journey across Kansas to search for those responsible for his death. By horse, by carriage, by foot, he won't stop until he's hunted them down and gotten his revenge. What he finds, though, is that nothing in the world is quite what he thought it was.

Vagabonds | chevrolangels (@chevrolangels)

Dean is a sheriff in a tiny town in Colorado, restless and unsatisfied with his life. It's not like what he's read about in the dime novels since he was little, capturing dangerous outlaws and being the last word of the law. More like tossing the town drunk in a cell to sober up when they get a little too rowdy. But Dean's chance comes when a thief rolls through their town. He pursues the thief, which puts him right into the path of Emmanuel, a notorious outlaw. When he is captured by the outlaw and his gang to be held for ransom, Dean starts off on a journey he could have never envisioned, and learns that perhaps there's more to Emmanuel than meets the eye.

West (series) | Xela

Dean/Castiel set against the backdrop of the Wild West. In which Dean and Sam are Outlaw Hunters, and Castiel is a religious man.

4:08 to Tombstone | zuzeca (@lyresnake)

When minor outlaw Dean Winchester's beloved brother ended up on the wrong side of a robber baron with yellow eyes and a sadistic streak, Dean never expected to wind up in the Arizona Territory’s most notorious prison: The Pit. Nor did he expect, after years on the rack, to be sprung by former Federal Marshal and man of the cloth, Reverend Castiel Milton. Now, on the run from corrupt lawman Warden Alastair, the two men must learn to trust each other, or hang. When Castiel, lesser seraph of the Lord, descended into Hell to help rescue the Righteous Man, he never expected to be unwillingly cast in Dean Winchester’s repressed bisexual cowboy fantasy.

Sign-ups for the DeanCas Wild West Fest open September 6th!

Check out the official rules, guidelines, and schedule here!

#dwwf #deancas wild west fest #fic recs #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #western au

[wholoveseggs]

Moonlight - Chapter Three

A woman’s life is turned completely upside-down when she encounters some demons in the woods.

I will be putting specific warnings for each chapter as they come out, there is smut and violence in some but I'll tag those chapters accordingly.

If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here

700 Words - Warnings: super minor mention of assault.

{Masterlist} - {Chapter list} Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four

Invite

Emma didn't know what had come over her. Making a deal with a demon, even a harmless one over a book, would result in her being damned for eternity. At least that's what Tomas said, but she didn't necessarily believe him.

The one who called himself Elijah had shown her kindness. The book he lent her was excellent; she spent most of her day reading it instead of working. It was full of enlightened ideas and conjured such beautiful images in her mind. She didn't care what punishments Tomas would inflict if he found out; it was worth it.

The setting sun came faster than expected, and Emma was late returning to the village. Elijah was meant to return and collect his book, but he was nowhere to be found. She was worried she would have to discard it in the forest. Perhaps that was his plan all along, so she would be indebted to him. Demons were agents of deception, after all.

Emma walked quickly down the familiar path, the shadows of the trees illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun. She heard a quiet whooshing sound and the snap of twigs behind her, turning to find the source of it. Elijah stood before her, his handsome eyes glittering in the dim light.

Emma handed him the book without a word, sad to see it go. "I hope to borrow it again," she said quietly.

"Tomorrow then, same place?" he responded.

She nodded, then continued to make her way down the path. He followed her for a while before veering off back towards the direction of the old hall.

Emma was relieved to see the windows dark when she arrived home. That meant Tomas was still at the tavern. She lit some candles and began preparing her herbs. She hummed quietly to herself as she crushed the plants into a fine dust, then carefully slid them into a small metal tin. She prepared dinner, sprinkling the mix onto Tomas's portion. She put it aside for him to eat when he got home.

She got ready for bed, blowing out most of the candles. She lay in the dark, thinking about the book, replaying its story in her mind. A quiet knock at the front door startled her. She grabbed a candle and walked quietly to the entrance. The door slowly opened with a creaking sound, moonlight illuminating the hallway. The blonde one she knew as Niklaus leaned against the door frame, a wicked grin on his face.

"Is Tomas home?" he asked, peering into the dark behind her.

"You shouldn't be here," Emma responded, stepping forward into the moonlight.

He cast a shadow across her face, the full moon perfectly framed behind his head. He looked down at her with a cold expression.

"I have business with your husband; may I wait inside?" he asked.

Silently, she stepped aside, her hands gesturing a reluctant invitation.

He gave her a serious look, "it's impolite to enter without being invited in," he said, leaning closer to the threshold.

"Is it?" she feigned innocence, her smile unwavering.

She held his gaze, refusing to utter another word. His expression darkened at her lack of response, and he hit the doorframe hard, causing the wood to crack slightly.

Emma flinched at the sound, and fear began to squeeze her chest. "Tomas will be home soon," she said in a hushed tone. "If he finds you at our door, he will kill us both."

"Oh, I very much doubt that," he chuckled, looking to his left towards the village. He let out a dejected sigh, turning around and heading back down her porch steps. He turned to face her, spreading his arms wide in a friendly gesture. "I'll see you later, sweet herbalist," he said before disappearing into the dark.

Not long after, Emma heard the familiar sounds of Tomas returning home. He stumbled up the steps and slammed open the door. She tried to pretend like she was already asleep, listening to him grumbling nonsense to himself before he crawled on top of her, pulling at her clothes and kissing her like a pig in a trough. He smelled of manure and old beer. She knew better than to fight him off, resigning to her fate.

It was better than a beating.

{Masterlist} - {Chapter list} Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals #fan fiction #original character #tvdu #tvdu fanfiction #moonlight #the vampire diaries #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #elijah mikaelson x oc #klaus mikaelson x oc #elijah tvd #tvd elijah #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikaelson x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries elijah #the originals imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine #tvd universe #tvd imagine #tvd fic #tvd

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

now what? | lee chan | a halloween special?

this is not proofread. i also wrote it in two and a half hours. it's based off this one specific text post I saw on pinterest about a selkie x human accidental marriage, I will attach the image here once I find it again bc it was adorable. it's a lil dramatic but it's cute. mentions of bar, alcohol, first kiss (with clear consent), seungcheol makes a cameo, lee chan is the cutest human being, it got weirdly deep, marriage and death and magic are a thing....idk lemme know if there's anything else that needs to be warned about

“So,” your sister says, pinching the bridge of her nose and trying to sound calm, “explain what happened. Now. Please.”

You go to speak, and so does Chan. The two of you look bashfully at each other before you look her in the eye. “We got married?” you say, a weak attempt at humor.

“To him?” your sister asks, pointing at the bright-eyed, handsome, confused-looking young man, who is currently biting his lip, not at all comprehending why the both of you are in trouble, but knowing you are.

You sigh. “Yes.”

“How?” she asks, a question and a command — explain yourselves.

You think back to how it all started.

***

“I’m bored,” you’d whined, your legs flung over the couch at your sister’s place as you scrolled your phone.

“Then go back home,” she’d said, rolling her eyes at your antics. 

“I do not feel like diving into cold water right now,” you protested. “Besides, it’s just as boring down there. The only thing there is to do is eat.” You sit up. “Come out with me,” you beg. “Let’s go downtown! We’ll eat, we’ll dance, we’ll do something aside from being stuck in this house all night watching your stupid shows.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” your sister huffs, looking hurt. “Maybe I should kick you out. Send you back to the sea. Or steal your coat so you have to do what I say.”

“Selkie magic doesn’t work on other selkies,” you remind her, and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Please, let’s go out. I want to get all cute.”

The human experience, in your eyes, was addicting. They lived such a short while, and the vast majority cared so very much about what they did with their time, which made for such an intriguing lifestyle. The past year with your sister, who had permanently given up her selkie coat to live life as a human, was supposed to be part of a two-year trip to deter you from following in her footsteps. But you had become enraptured with humans instead — how they loved, how they lived. 

And you loved most of all to dance. It was the closest thing to weightless, like the weightlessness of water, that you had found in your human form. Even thinking about it made you feel that euphoric floating feeling. “Come on. Let’s dance,” you beg your sister. 

“Oh, fine,” she grumbles, but she’s  grinning. “But you have to promise me you’ll be careful about your coat.”

***

Lee Chan sat at the bar, watching the dance floor as it slowly filled with partiers, his warm eyes catching the lights so that they glittered mesmerizingly. 

“Is there someone you’re looking for?” he asked Seungcheol over the loud music. Seungcheol was, for his part, scanning the crowd of people with one eyebrow raised as he sipped his drink. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

“Who?” Chan asked.

He gave a sly smile. “I’ll know her when I see her.”

“So, anyone?” Chan scoffed.

“Not anyone,” Seungcheol said indignantly. “Someone special.”

At that precise moment, people on the dance floor began to move, seemingly out of someone’s way. As the crowd parted, two women came into view — both beautiful, and both wearing striking floor-length fur coats. 

Chan watched them approach the bar with his jaw on the floor. Seungcheol, too, was eyeing them with an appraising look. “I’ve seen her before,” he told Chan, pointing at the one with lighter hair. “I was hoping she’d come.”

“You liar,” Chan teased. “You were looking for someone in particular.”

Seungcheol just grinned, setting down his drink and approaching the lighter-haired woman as she shrugged out of her coat and hung it over a seat at the bar. Chan grinned, making as though he’d turn his attention back to the crowd of dancers, when he met eyes with the other girl in the fur coat. 

She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, now that he was thinking about it. Beautiful in a way that was so outside of what he was used to, so striking, so otherworldly that she didn’t seem real. And she was smiling at him with a bright curiosity in her kind eyes. Somehow, when he saw her, Chan felt a calm that washed over him like water. 

“Chan!” Seungcheol said, and he was roughly yanked back into reality.

***

Who is he? you think to yourself, not able to help glancing at the man who now approaches the handsome fellow talking to your sister. She holds out her hand and introduces herself to him, and he smiles at her as he shakes it. How anyone gets anything done around him when he’s smiling like that is a mystery to you. 

“And this —“ your sister says, and you shake yourself and scurry over to her side, “is my little sister. She’s visiting for a few days. Can you take care of her? Make sure she’s safe?” She murmurs this part to the taller man.

He chuckles. “Of course we can. Can’t we, Chan?” he says to the other young man. 

Chan. Your heart beats faster with the sound of his name. This feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt in all your life — feelings as a seal are generally much smoother around the edges, much less concentrated. But as a human, they’ve crystallized. If anger is cold, unforgiving granite in your chest, whatever you’re feeling as you meet eyes with Chan a second time is a diamond, forged in extreme pressure and heat, incapable of breaking.

You step up to him. “Hi,” you say breathlessly.

He’s all smiles. “Hi, yourself,” he says. You two lose yourselves in each other for a moment before Seungcheol clears his throat. Chan, still smiling, rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Um, should we dance?”

You have never heard a phrase you like more from a mouth you’re so enamored with. You discard your coat, carefully laying it on your sister’s, and nod. Chan takes your hand, sending electricity through your limbs, and pulls you onto the floor. 

Your sister taps the nearest man, who is clearly drunk and wearing a tiger-print shirt, sitting at the bar. “Could you make sure nobody touches the coats?” she asks, and her eyes are so hypnotizing that he nods in a daze. She hands him a hundred dollar bill, and grabs Seungcheol by the t-shirt. “You’re coming with me,” she says, and he nods, both impressed and a little scared, as he follows her deep into the crowd of people. 

You’d thought dancing was your favorite. There was almost nothing that could compare. Although selkie music had its smooth, rich beauty, human music, much like human feelings, was jarring and rhythmic and colorful and loud. Letting your limbs follow the sounds like a current made sense in your mind in a way that speaking hadn’t caught up to yet.

So it was kind of a surprise when Chan started asking you questions as he danced close to you. “Where are you from? What’s your favorite food? What kind of books do you like? Do you like the rain? How about the snow? Have you ever traveled? Where was your favorite?”

“Do I get to know your answers to these questions?” you say as you move along with the beat, your heart soaring every time you so much as brushed Chan. When men have asked you to dance, they usually touched you more, and there was something about the way Chan was keeping his distance that made you almost desperate to close the gap.

He nods. “Sure! Sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” he says, blushing. 

You laugh. “Why are you nervous?”

He swallows hard. “Well, you’re really not anything like anyone I’ve ever met before, and I really want you to like me.”

That does it. You take a leaf out of your sister’s book and pull Chan in by the shirt, placing your arms deliberately around his shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about that at all,” you reassure, and he’s a blushing mess. “So tell me…what’s your favorite place you’ve ever been?”

So he talks, and you lean in closer to hear him over the throbbing beat, realizing as you do that this is better than dancing. His hands are still very respectful at your waist, but having them there — being so near to him, smelling his cologne, hearing him talk, brings you to a place of weightlessness you’ve never felt in either of your forms, in or out of water. 

You both talk for hours, until his voice is hoarse, and then you just dance. Chan is a rare human — he is actually good at dancing, his hands always positioning you in exactly the right way, at exactly the right time. You follow him easily, letting him guide you wherever he pleases. Somehow, when he dances with you, it feels like the world is spinning three times faster. Every time you dip or spin or lose sight of Chan for a second only to meet his eyes again, it’s like a whole new morning for you, like waking up from a long sleep. His eyes are so full — you can read them like you can read fairytales, just as magic and hopeful and simple, except when you look into them, there is no ending, happy or otherwise. He is entirely infinite. It is Chan’s eyes that teach you how wrong you’ve been about humans. They are not fascinatingly temporary creatures, they are powerfully eternal, immortal in a way that can transcend death instead of simply avoiding it. They endure in their books, in their songs, in their stories and their creations — and at least one of them will live forever in your memories, because you saw infinity in him.

It’s not long before the dance floor is empty but for the two of you and some stragglers. Your feet are getting tired. “I need a break,” you tell Chan, and the two of you find a more secluded area in a stairwell just outside the bar, which Chan has propped open with one of your shoes. 

You sit beside him, wanting to be close to him again, and he grins nervously as you stare him down. “Now what?” he asks you.

“I think I want to hear you talk some more,” you whisper, laying your head against his shoulder. 

“Where did you come from?” he asks, his tone full of awe.

This is one of the questions you know you should avoid, so you do. “How do you know Seungcheol?” you ask him instead. 

“He’s my brother, basically. And I should probably find him,” he sighs. “No doubt he and your sister are somewhere getting into trouble.”

You giggle. “I’m usually the one who does that.”

“Gets into trouble?” he clarifies.

You nod against his shoulder. “I’m definitely more mischievous,” you say, “but she’s more rebellious. So I guess it evens out.”

He laughs. “Should we go? Find them, I mean?”

You sit up and look at him. Those eyes could swallow you whole, and you’d be grateful. You don’t want them anywhere else but on you. “Do we have to?” you whisper. You don’t really know what you’re doing, but you find yourself touching his cheek with your fingertips. 

Chan’s eyes drop to your lips and then back to your eyes. “Did you have something else in mind?” he asks, leaning in close.

You have never been kissed. Kissing has been explained to you by your sister, who apparently really likes it, and you’ve seen it in movies and TV shows, but you’ve never tried it yourself. “Are you gonna kiss me?” you ask, nearly vibrating in anticipation.

“Do you want me to?” he asks softly, a laugh in his voice, and brings a warm hand up to cup your cheek.

“Yes, please,” you breathe, and he does. 

As his lips meet yours, your body ignites. You are not ready for the surge of fire that takes over you, that has you reaching for Chan like a net reaches for fish, as though it is your hands’ only purpose. The emotion is so blinding and strong — diamonds and fairytales and forever all at once — that if your brain could be occupied by anything else, it would probably be the question of how human beings are able to do this so easily, with so many different people. For you, kissing another person and feeling this way with someone else sounds positively ludicrous. You pull him into you, unable to get him close enough, and kiss him with everything you have, trying to pour all that emotion into him. 

And then suddenly you feel it. You pull back from Chan and gasp, your stomach lurching in distress. Chan takes in a shaky breath. “Did I do something wrong?” he asks, in a sort of daze.

“No, it’s not you — it’s my coat,” you say. You can feel it…someone’s hands running along the silky surface, sending goosebumps up your spine. You bound to your feet and help Chan up, running back into the bar and looking at the man in the tiger print, who is stroking your coat. 

In slow motion, you see it fall to the floor. Chan darts forward and snatches it up, handing it to you in a swift move. “You should be more respectful of people’s things!” he exclaims, then turns back to you to see you gaping at him.

Because he just gave you back your coat. Unbeknownst to him, he is now your husband.

It doesn’t change anything — you thought a moment like this would be more dramatic, but apparently selkie weddings are as simple as the rest of their culture. You don’t even feel different. You had been told if a human bound you to them in this way, you would be so besotted with them you’d never have a sane thought again, and that had terrified you. But as Chan’s eyes fil  I’m l with worry at the sight of you, you think that maybe you were already so far gone that the magic didn’t have to do much.

You grab his hand. “We need to find my sister.”

And you do find her. She’s acting all lovey-dovey with Seungcheol in the corner of the bar, but frowns when you approach with your coat in hand and Chan in tow. “He just gave me my coat,” you say in a low voice, and she gasps. 

She levels a gaze at Seungcheol. “This is still happening,” she says, gesturing between herself and him, “but give me a minute.”

Which leads you to now. Chan is confused, your sister is horrified, and you…aren’t sure how to feel. So you explain it to him. 

He takes the whole mythical creature thing really well, considering he had no idea they existed before today. His brow furrows at your explanation of the marriage magic, but he doesn’t complain or gasp or freak out at all. When you’re done, he looks at you. “I mean, I can divorce you, if you want?” he says. “Don’t get me wrong, I — I really like you, but I don’t want to force you into anything.”

You smile sadly. “Thank you,” you say, taking his hand in yours. “But that’s not how the magic works. If you don’t accept our marriage as legitimate, I’ll die, Chan.”

His eyes go wide. “I know that’s not fair to you,” you continue in a hurry, “and I don’t want to force you, either. But…”

“But it’s your life,” he finishes, understanding. “Well…we’ll make the best of it, then.” 

Your eyes fill with tears. “I’m so sorry, Chan. It happened so fast.”

He pulls you into an unexpected hug. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says. “From what I can tell, it really wasn’t in your control.” He takes your hand, looking at your sister. “What will you tell Cheol?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she says. 

“Think you can get him to come home with you?”

She scoffs. “I won’t even have to ask.”

Chan nods. He gives you a small smile. “Shall we go then?”

***

After a quiet car ride, a quick shower, and a lot of thoughts, you join Chan on his couch. The one hope you have is the way he held your hand the entire way home. He looks up as you come in, and his smile breathes life into you. “So,” he says. “I’ve come up with a plan.”

“Okay?” you say.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he says, leaning forward. “We don’t tell anyone we’re married.”

“Good,” you agree.

“We tell everyone we’re dating. It’ll explain why we’re around each other all the time.”

“Great.”

“And if by the end of the year you just can’t stand me, you can hire someone to kill me,” he finishes.

“Huh???”

“If I die, do you get out of the marriage?” he says. 

“If you die, I die,” you explain. You lean back and look at him. “You were gonna let me murder you if we decided we hate each other?”

“Well, yeah,” he says, sounding confused as to why this might be inappropriate.

“Chan,” you say, “I’m not gonna lie, when I first saw you, magic or no magic, I knew I was going to love you for the rest of my life. So I don’t think killing you was ever gonna be on the table.”

He’s staring at you again. “I know that’s crazy. But it’s true. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way yet, but maybe someday —“

He cuts you off. “I do. I do feel that same way.”

“You do?” you ask, shocked.

“I’m not sure how it is for you,” he says, “but when I saw you for the first time, suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the room. You literally took my breath away. Magic or no magic.”

He smiles at you, and there it is again — that feeling that you’ve lived a thousand lifetimes just by being reflected in his starry eyes. You just can’t help yourself. You lean over and kiss him again, feeling the electricity, the heat, the pressure. Chan is so gentle with you, kissing you softly and calmly with your face cradled in his hands, his fingers playing with the silky hair at the back of your neck, and it undoes you. For the first time in your human life, you cry. When you pull away you have to wipe at your eyes, and Chan even does his part, kissing away stray tears that escape your fingers and making you giggle.

“How about this,” you suggest when you’ve finally pulled yourself together. “We actually do date. And we do our best not to get on each other’s nerves. And we work through the problems we have. And if we get good at it, in a couple years we get married — but in the human way.”

He smiles in relief. “I like it better than my plan.”

“Me too.” You look around his tidy apartment. “So, now what?”

He shrugs. “Wanna watch a movie?”

He pops the popcorn. You grab his blankets off his bed. And you spend the first night of your marriage laughing at each other’s attempts to throw popcorn in the other’s mouth while they’re talking, snuggling up tight together during the scary parts of the movie, and falling asleep in each other’s arms. As you drift off to the background noise of the movie and Chan humming along with the score, you think you might be the luckiest accidental bride on earth.

#lee chan #lee chan fluff #lee chan x reader #lee chan is so cute #everything lee chan does is adorable and perfect #i am a simp for lee chan #seventeen #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt #svt imagines

[themorticians-world]

I. Death .I

Xavier Thorpe x O.C

Helloooooo, this is my first time writing a fan fiction (I know lame) I usually just read them and whatever but I've had this idea for months now so I figured better late than never. *All copy rights go to the creators of Wednesday, and the music to Melanie Martinez. Those are their's to claim they just helped inspire me.* Also this has an Original Character and OC family. The last name hasn't been mentioned yet but it's Cauldron! Pls be nice, and let me know if there's anything I missed. This story WILL have smut, but I'm doing chapters.. Enjoy:)

"They're carving my name in the grave again

Their flowers fresh and their faces wet

my body has died, but I'm still alive

look over your shoulder I'm back from the dead.."

As I awaken, I feel my wings flutter. I know this is a rebirth, my previous body leaving this plane. I can feel as my body ignites, and I go through stages of hatching. As I breath in my new life and what's to come of my physical body, the flashbacks of what happened start to come full force. Fire surrounds me, everywhere I look I see the tall burning hot flames engulfing my once childhood home. I whimper as I realize I can’t find my family, “MOM” I yell into the whooshing of the flames “MOM PLEASE” I shout again, my voice cracking this time. Gathering myself I assess the situation, I know we can’t die, we’re Nymph’s, each one of us has different parts that makes us a unique type of nymph. I pick up my tethered dress from the floor searching for anyone who could be here, “Dad? Evan? Mom?” I try again. Realization starts to sink in, as I crumple myself onto the floor as tears wrack through my body. I know my fate, I know we’ll meet again in another life but each time this happens there is always a fear it’ll be my last time having my family with me. Gasping, I emerge from the dirt and gravel that was once my grave. I shake my wings and exhale a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. Shaking the dirt and debris off my wings, I expand my chest to inhale a large breath before sending my signal in search of my family. 

As I wait I can feel the burning hot pit in my lower stomach, aching for a feeding. Looking around I see nothing but trees, for miles. Huffing I began my journey in search of a mate to feed off their energy. Ever since I could remember my mother, a beautiful nymph met and fell in love with my father, a daring incubus. Ever since they first met, as Adam and Eve, they had been inseparable in each life time. Eventually having my brother, Evan, myself Ophelia, and our dearly departed baby sister Angelica. Each life being difficult in its own way, losing Angelica was a different type of pain for everyone. We all knew permanent death was possible for any nymph or demon, we just hadn’t realized how quick it could happen to babies during the French Revolution. 

Landing on the ground, I begin to observe where I am, to memorize this lay out and hope I can fly my way back before my family finds my signal and comes to me. As I walk through the forest, in the dark and cold night, I become overly aware of how naked I am. Searching for anything, I find a shed with a light on inside. Flying up to peek through the window I see a handsome young man, painting a horrifying monster. ‘This could be my feed’ I thought as I landed on the ground ready to take on the appearance of who this man could want to mate with. I straighten my back and throw my long black hair over my shoulder, and lower my horns back into my head to hide my indifference. I began to feign my innocence, as I knock on the door to the shed. “Uh, yeah just a second!” Says the young man, I can hear scrambling and something falling to the ground, as foot steps approach I wrap my arms around my chest and use one of my hands to cover my pubic area. “Hey sorry Principal Weems I’m just finishing t-“ He cuts himself off as he sees me. “Hi, I got lost in the woods, do you think you could help me?” I give a shy smile and tilt my head, hoping he can see his dream person in front of him. “Uh yeah uh, here come in, I’ll get a blanket” he manages to strain out, whipping himself around to grab a black blanket off the old ratty couch he has. Smiling gracefully I wrap myself in the blanket, giving him full view of my body before ‘adjusting’ it to feel more comfortable against my hardened nipples. “Thank you, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve lasted without something to warm me up” I say in a hushed whisper, leaning in towards him with a blush on my face. “Yeah of course, not a problem” he says scratching his head, fixing his half up half down pony tail. “Care to introduce yourself?” I smirk, loosening my grip on the blanket a bit, in hopes he catches more skin. “My name is Xavier Thorpe, I’m a student here at Nevermore Academy, its nice to meet you” Xavier extends his hand with a blush covering his cheeks, he seems nervous as I shake his hand and give him a perfect smile back. As I’m about to introduce myself, I hear my fathers signal through the wind, telling me they are here for me. Xavier looks around confused at the high pitch whistle, but I turn to face the door, “I think I’ll be seeing you again, thank you for the help.. See you later, Xavier.” I whisper to him. “Wait what?” He yells after me but I’ve already gained my wings to fly towards my parents. I smile feeling a light pinch in my stomach and ache in my core as I leave without feeding. I fly as fast as I can, excited to see my parents and brother, and land shortly after my flight began. “Momma! Dad! Where’s Evan?” I proclaim, wrapping them in my arms and squeezing tightly. “Oh honey, he hasn’t hatched again yet. We’re waiting to hear his signal” my mom reassures me, squeezing me back in the hug. I push her back slightly, confused because Evan is usually the fastest to rebirth. 

“Mom what do you mean? We have to keep signalling for him then, he has to find us!” I say, tears threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. 

“Ophelia, relax, not much time has passed since we died last time. I’m sure he’s just being lazy, you know how Ev is!” My dad tries to cheer me up, rubbing my shoulder. “How are you guys already in clothes? We need to find shelter, I need a feed, desperately.” I say to the couple, in hopes they can’t sense my eagerness to mate. “Well honey, we’ve been hatched for a few months now, we’ve settled down in a town not far from here called Jericho, and they have a school for people like us” My mom tells me, smiling at me and playing with the ends of my hair. I nod quietly, and motion for them to show me the way to where I will live out this life. Wrapping the blanket tighter around me, I suddenly feel exposed and confused. What do they mean they’ve been hatched for a few months? And why did it take me so long to come back to them this time? Where is Evan? Thoughts race through my head, as I follow in the steps of my parents. As we reach town, my mom pulls me into a small side hug and smiles down at my small stature. “Honey, here’s our new home, we’ve already decorated a room for you, but we need to have a discussion tomorrow about some new rules your father and I have set.” She says firmly. I nod again, not quite ready to speak as I take in my new surroundings. 

The house is cute, cozy but not small, inviting and warm. I take in the outdoor decorations, and take notice of the trees, that are a variety of orange, yellow, red and brown leaves. The house itself is a black brick house, with white windows and a signature red door. There’s pumpkins on the steps, and little ghosts hanging from some of the trees. My dad unlocks the front door, gesturing me into the heat of the house. My jaw falls as I take in my new home, it’s beyond perfect for our family. The grey walls are the perfect shade of cool neutral, the antiques my mother must have thrifted decorate the area beautifully, a gorgeous wood burning fire place is in the middle of the living room, surrounded by black velvet couches, a coffee table shaped like a coffin, and perfectly preserved bats all over the walls as decor. The perfect amount of spooky and cozy, just like we like it. 

“Mom, could you show me to my room? We will need to go clothes shopping tomorrow!” I smile at her, adjusting the blanket that now feels too warm in the heat of the living room. My mom nods, and motions me to follow her up the black spiral staircase. I take in the paintings as I take my time going up the stairs, admiring the craftsmanship of the artist. When I reach the final step, my mom turns and points to the black door with a sign shaped like a bat on it, stating “Ophelia’s room”. I jump and squeal, excited to see my room and bed, I barge in and turn the light on. Instantly I’m consumed with the comfort of my favourite items. A large black canopy bed in the centre of the room, with black nightstands on either side, and matching black and white lamps. I can’t help myself as I drink in all the details of the room, I see a glass chandelier, a black desk with a type writer, a coffin shaped mirror hanging on my wall beside what appears to be a Jack and Jill bathroom with a room on the opposite side. As I step into my room, I open a door to my right, to see a rather large walk in closet- that is filled to the brink with black, brown and grey clothes, shoes and purses. I turn to my mother with a big smile, “Thank you so much mom, you always know exactly what I love.” I bring her into a hug. “Of Course honey, have a shower, get changed into some comfy clothes and hop into bed, it’s pretty late.” She smiles softly before turning to the door and closing it gently behind her. 

I take the blanket off and toss it to the side, and retrieve a towel, a black tank top and black plaid pj shorts from my closet and head towards the bathroom. Humming a tune, I turn the light on and begin my search for a hairbrush. Once I’ve located my brush, I turn the shower on and wait for it to heat up. Fixing my posture, I take in my new appearance in the mirror. I’m short, with my usual long black straight hair. I have a curvier figure this time around, with more of a tummy than I’m use to. I shake my head, adjust my eyes and relax- allowing my natural form to come out. My hazel eyes darken to almost black, my horns make their appearance and my ears point. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth as I take in its pointed snake appearance, that’s new. Shrugging, I finish brushing my hair, and get into the heat of the shower. As I let the water run over me, my mind begins to become engulfed with the ache that has settled in my core. Ignoring the feeling, I shampoo twice, condition, wash my face and shave, before washing my body and rinsing off. Turning the shower off, I grab my towel and begin a night routine, taking notice of the very expensive skin care products my mother must have researched before purchasing. Once I’ve finished my skin care, and brushing my teeth, I throw my hair into a towel and head into my room to settle in for the night. As I hear what sounds like a television show coming from downstairs, I nod off into a deep sleep, preparing for the next day, and my next feeding.

#xavier thorpe #xavier smut #xavier thrope x reader #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #wednesday series #xavier thrope fanfic #dark xavier thorpe #xavier x you #pls dont judge me

[mothwingwritings]

There’s Just No One Like You Pt. 2

F!ReaderXTaiju Shiba

PART ONE PART THREE

Yoooo who’s ready for part two of your Taiju adventures?

I am sorry this took so long, and thank you all for your patience! I rewrote the ending like, three times because it was pissing me off lul. Also adult life is lame and you have to do dumb shit that gets in the way of smut writing. And then after years of not getting sick I got a cold that knocked my ass out for 3 solid days. So it goes. L

Anyway, this part revolves around your reunion with Taiju (hence the name Reunion har har). It’s set during highschool, after he became the leader of the Black Dragons but before Mikey beat his ass. I imagine here he is not quite yet at his most powerful, but he’s well on his way there. Also, I just kinda assumed he lives alone with Hakkai and Yuzuha, so that’s how it is in this fic.

Though there isn’t intense explicit sex, there is definitely heavy petting and NSFW themes, mentions, and moments. So please 18+ only for this one gang.

I had a lot of fun writing this one! There will definitely be a part three and most likely a part four. I haven’t yet decided if I want to split up the final part, but that is what I am leaning towards. Like this one, it probs won’t be out for a while, so please be advised. I have some Baki fics in the work I want to get out too, so those will most likely come first.

Thank you for reading!!! (I hope the editing is OK I did most of that while under the weather lul)

Warnings: NSFW, unhealthy relationships, ducob/noncon, yandere themes, extremely heavy petting (but no actual penetration), cry baby reader, virgin reader, obsession, abuse, language, gas lighting, bullying, choking, slight dacryphilia, Taiju just generally being a scary mf.

Tags: @serenity-loves-red​ @caramelcandescence​ @mochiswifey​ @skyoumi​

Part 2. Reunion

“I’m telling you, you need to see this guy!”

“Uh huh,” Your response was lackluster in hopes that the friend beside you would finally pick up on your disinterest. You loved her, but her incessant chirping in your ear about this new guy while you were trying to focus on finishing an assignment was driving you to the point of insanity. He was all she had talked about since you had seen her today, and with the way she was going, there was no end in sight to the scandalous rumors she wanted to dump upon you.

“What do you mean ‘uh huh’,” Tomoko pouted, “(Name) this guy is like, the talk of the school right now! Haven’t you been listening to me? Rumor has it he’s been held back a year for failing the year prior because he was in and out of juvey AND he’s the head of some kind of local gang or something. So not only is he a mysterious transfer student, but he’s also like, a total badass!”

“Sounds like a great person,” you mumbled sarcastically, shuffling through various papers, “really top tier crush you got there Tomo.”

“It’s not a crush,” she bumped her shoulder against you. “I’m just intrigued, is all. I mean, our school is so boring normally. Barely anything happens! This rebellious transfer student may just turn all that on its head.” She hummed, shooting you a coy look, “But maybe something is forming in my heart, when I caught a glimpse of him earlier I couldn’t help but think he IS rather cute~”

You playfully rolled your eyes at your friend, shaking your head. Tomoko and you were nearly opposites, where she liked to have a foot in everything and keep up with all the latest happenings, you much preferred keeping a low profile and stayed in your lane.  You did your best to avoid the gossip traps Tomoko so loved to fling herself into, finding yourself perfectly content living those scandals out vicariously through your friend.

You laughed, “You are something else you know that? What would you even do with a bad boy boyfriend miss ‘I always go to bed by 9pm and can barely say a curse word without getting flustered’?”

She snorted, “Oh, you’re one to talk! You can hardly look a handsome guy in the face without wanting to run and hide!”

“Look, I’m not the one who is-“

“QUIET,” your teacher’s voice boomed, effectively ending your playful banter, “Everyone, eyes up here! We have a new face to introduce to the crowd.”

The class’s attentions were brought to the front of the room, your jovial demeanor instantly curtailed as you took in the boy who stood beside your teacher. Honestly, man may have been a better word for him, as he dwarfed your teacher in both stature and mass. His height alone was enough to quiet the rambunctious crowd before him, the overwhelming presence he exuded commanding everyone’s instant respect. Oozing ‘tall dark and handsome’, it was impossible not to take note of how attractive he was. His unruly hair cascaded around his face, the varying shades of blue reminding you of waves crashing against a craggy beach. The tendrils framed his severe, scowling countenance, his judgmental stare boring down on the people around him made him appear as if he were searching them for something and was disappointed by what he found. His hands were stuffed in his uniform pockets, head tilted back to amplify the feeling that you were all beneath him.

The stranger’s eyes languidly swept over the class, angular face looking even sharper in the harsh fluorescent lights of the classroom.  As you watched his steady inspection of your classmates, you couldn’t help the small shiver that traveled down your spine. In every regard, this man was menacing. (But you had to admit, you were impressed that someone could look so utterly bored and pissed off at the same time, at a class introduction no less.)

“This is Taiju Shiba,” your teacher proceeded. You noticed he stood a bit further from Taiju than he normally did when introducing someone, his eyes shooting the taller boy a quick, leery glance. What did it say for this new face that even your teacher was weary of his presence? “Please make sure to welcome him and assist him if he needs any help.”

A murmur of unenthused recognition spread through your class. The welcome seemed to amuse Taiju, a hint of a smirk ghosting his lips at his reception.

“Oh my god, that’s him!” Tomoko’s voice chimed in, slapping at your arm repeatedly in her excitement. Her floundering went barely acknowledged however, as you found yourself unable to focus on anything but Taiju.

Where had you heard that name before? It sounded so familiar, but you were sure you had never interacted with this man previously. Why would you of? Just one glance and you could clearly see he was a poster child for the delinquents of the world, a group of people you tried at all costs to avoid. The bullying you suffered at their hands in your childhood enough to give you lifelong PTSD. From the looks of him, this person was definitely not anyone you would have any kind of pleasant history with, or even any history at all.

Taiju must have caught Tomoko’s voice over the sound of the crowd, as his eyes were soon to hone in and lock onto yours. Pure ice ran through your veins as he took you in, silted yellow eyes reminiscent of a cat that had just cornered a mouse. He held your gaze with an intensity he spared the rest of the class, a pointed look of surprise flashing across his features that caused his dramatic brow to loosen. You hated that you felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, instant embarrassment hitting you like a ton of bricks as other classmates caught on to his interest in you, shooting you questioning looks of their own.

His lips curled, baring his teeth in what you assumed was his attempt at a smile. You shuddered as his eyes flicked you up and down, openly ogling you in front of the rest of the class. Maybe your mind was playing tricks, but you swore you heard growl come from his direction.

As if being broken from a curse, you finally found the strength to avert your gaze, suddenly becoming very interested in editing the assignment on the desk before you.

“Why don’t you take a seat over there in the corner, there’s an open spot behind (Name)-san.”

Your breath hitched. If there was ever a moment you wanted the earth to eat you alive, this may be it.

“(Name) raise your hand please so Taiju knows where to go.”

Weakly, you raised your arm above your head. Briefly you made eye contact, but were quick to glance away when noting his unnerving smile had grown. You snuck a peek at your friend, who reciprocated with the same dismayed expression you were donning. It made sense he would sit behind you, it was the only seat that was unoccupied, but that didn’t mean you had to be thrilled about it.

Without further interruption, the man sauntered towards his awaiting desk. Your heart pounded as he made a brief stop next to you. Ignoring his stately figure the best you could, you bore holes into the desk before you. If you tried hard enough, maybe you could convince him that you were just some boring school girl overly focused on her studies, not someone worthy of directing any ire or attention. If you were lucky, it would work (however you knew you wouldn’t be so lucky with Tomoko, who most assuredly was sucking up this moment like a sponge to tease you later).

A sudden tap on your desk made you jerk. His knuckles grazed the wooden surface, coming suspiciously close to brushing against your arm. You sat like a statue, a cold sweat pooling on the back of your neck at the proximity of his body. You prayed to every god imaginable that he would get bored of your lack of response and take his seat, hopefully finding you just boring enough that he would leave you alone indefinitely. Your eyes darted to his hand as it crept closer and closer, debating if he would actually go so far as to touch you or not, and if he did, how you should respond.

“Is there a problem, Shiba-san?”

You released the breath you were holding when Taiju withdrew his hand, turning his body in the slightest to glance at the teacher.

“No teach,” His voice drawled. He turned back around, taking the last few strides to his awaiting desk, “Not at all.”

With an exasperated sigh, your teacher shot you a look that almost seemed apologetic before they continued. “Well, now that we are all settled, let’s proceed with class.”

Focusing on learning turned out being easier said than done, what with the feeling of his eyes drilling a hole into the back of your skull. Tomoko nudged your foot a few times to get your attention, shooting questioning glances from Taiju to you. You did your best to nonverbally communicate you had no idea why he was picking on you either, but for your sanity you hoped it would not be a recurring ordeal.

The rest of class dragged by with it being next to impossible to focus on anything the teacher was saying. With Taiju’s stifling presence looming behind you, you felt suffocated. Wriggling in your seat, finding a moment of comfort under his scrutiny was simply out of the question. You could practically feel the burn of his eyes on every move you made, but you were far too unnerved by him to confront him about it. All you had to do was make it through this class and then maybe you could meet up with the teacher later and see if they could put you and Tomoko somewhere else, preferably on the other side of the room.

After what felt like a century, class ended. You had long since bundled up your belongings, ready to bolt as soon as you were able. This was the last class of the day, and the sooner you could get out and away from the constricting aura that was smothering you from behind, the better.

However, fate never seemed to have your best interests in mind. Before you could even entertain the thought of a speedy escape, you heard a deep voice call out behind you.

“(Name).”

‘Great, he’s already remembered my name.’ You flinched, considering your options. Should you just pretend you didn’t hear him? That seemed like a plausible excuse, it was pretty noisy now that class had let up.

“Hey,” he spoke again, this time kicking the leg of your chair enough to jostle you, “(Name), you suddenly deaf or something?”

You gritted your teeth, slowly pivoting around until you were looking at Taiju. He was sprawled out in his chair, obviously in no real hurry to leave for the day like the rest of the class. His feet were encroaching into your personal space, one foot still firmly planted on your chair keeping you from too much movement. His golden eyes, though still intense, had softened considerably as he stared back at you. His wolfish grin had faded too, his face relaxing into a much calmer state. This threw you off. If this man was preparing to verbally assault you, why did he seem so collected now?

“Can I help you?” Your voice came out far less assured than you wanted it to. You frowned as his jaw tightened after the question, displeasure once more twisting his face into a look of cruelty. Your first time speaking to him and somehow you already managed to piss him off.

He snorted, lips curling in a sneer. “Really? That’s all you have to say after so many years apart?”

“What???” Tomoko beat you to the punch, drawing both your and Taiju’s attention. A pink tinge came to her cheeks after her exclamation, and she cleared her throat before continuing, “I’m sorry it’s just… (Name), you know Taiju-san?” Face agog and expression borderline hurt, she eagerly waited for you to spill the details.

The truth was you were just as shocked at his words as she was.

Your gaze shifted back to Taiju, who had since turned his focus back to you. You wracked your brain for any recollection but came up blank, his expectant gaze causing anxiety to mount within you. Just what was he looking for here? Of course you didn’t know him! You come from two completely different walks of life.

“I’m very sorry,” you finally spoke, flicking your gaze between the two, “I think you have the wrong person. I don’t think I’ve ever met you before…?”

Your voice trailed off, growing considerably meeker under Taiju’s study. His frown had become so deeply etched into his face you were concerned it may become stuck that way. His eyebrow twitched, a prominent vein in his forehead bulging in vexation.

“Really, you don’t remember when we were kids? We went to school together, I found you on that playground? None of that rings any bells?”

There was a definite edge to his voice, but you also detected a hint of wistfulness. It was accompanied by a waver in his eyes that if you weren’t mistaken, seemed almost pained. You nibbled at your bottom lip, feeling even worse than you had previously.

“I-I don’t… I’m really sorry, I honestly think you are mistaken-“

“I’m NOT,” abruptly he stood, rattling the furniture around him as his body shoved it askew. “How can you not remember me? Is this some sort of fucking joke, are you tryin’ to piss me off?”

You winced at his words. Feeling cornered, you pushed yourself as far into your desk as you could. At his full height, he stared down at you in your chair, indignation radiating off of him in waves. Remaining plastered to your seat, you found yourself unable to look away from the angered man behind you. Your sweaty, trembling hands gripped the back of your chair so tightly you were losing circulation, and despite still being seated, you felt like you may topple over any second. How did you get in this position? What exactly did you do to set this man off?

Alerted by the commotion, your teacher approached the three of you. His voice had vibrato, but his stance seemed hesitant.

“Shiba-san, what seems to be the issue here?”

Taiju shot your hapless teacher a glare that would make anyone falter, and guilt started to overtake you as the scene escalated. You hated being targeted, but felt even worse dragging people into your messes. You knew you should say something to calm everyone down, maybe even lie and remark that you did remember Taiju just to chill him out, but you hesitated. You had always been a horrible actor, and something told you that messing up now would just make things much worse.

Feeling a hand wrap around your wrist, your eyes trailed the reassuring grasp back to Tomoko. As you made eye contact, her head bobbed towards you in comforting affirmation.

“We’re sorry,” she laughed, bowing lightly to your teacher as she pulled you to your feet, “(Name) and I were joking around and we happened to bump into his desk on accident, I think it messed up something he was writing? It was completely our bad.”

Once you were standing beside her, she gave you a small nudge to help back up her statement.

“S-she’s right,” you bowed deeply in Taiju’s direction, “I’m very sorry Taiju-san. We’ll be more mindful next time.”

“Yeah,” you heard Taiju’s gruff voice reply despondently, “you SHOULD be more mindful next time.”

Tomoko tugged at you forcibly, momentarily throwing you off balance. “Again, sorry for the trouble, but we are running a bit behind now to meet up with some friends. We won’t have any problems in the future, promise!”

You were more or less out the door when you heard your teacher letting out a disgruntled sigh.

“As long as everyone is keeping the peace, I suppose.”

~

“What the hell was that about?!”

Tomoko wheezed out in between panted breaths. After you had left the classroom, she dragged you behind her in a mad sprint to leave the school premises, neither of you completely stopping until you were at least two blocks away. Exhausted, you both slumped yourselves down against some beat-up vending machines that stood on the outskirts of a small park.

“No idea,” you panted, sweaty head knocking against the cool glass of the drink machine, “but despite my best efforts, I am most definitely a target now.”

Your friend sidled up next to you, “You really don’t know him? Cause he sure as hell seems to know you,” Tomoko laughed, “Who’s the one with the bad boy boyfriend now, huh?”

You nudged her with your knee, shooting her an unamused expression. “I seriously have no clue what that was all about,” you sighed heavily, “I’m pretty sure I would remember if that guy was ever in my life or not.”

Tomoko hummed in contemplation, “True, he does seem pretty memorable… But with the way he was speaking it sounded like he might have known you from when you were kids, so maybe it’s just been so long that you forgot? I know I personally have the memory of a goldfish, so maybe being stuck with ME for so longs has rubbed off on you in the worst ways.”

You turned to your friend, “If both our memories go, does that mean we’ll forget about each other and I will be free of the shackles of this relationship?”

Tomoko threw her head back in a laugh, “HAH! You wish! You are stuck with me till the end, memories or not! It was in the fine print of our friendship agreement we signed, remember?”

“Hmm, don’t recall. Must be because my memories have become so cloudy…” You replied as seriously as you could, fighting the grin that threatened engulfing your face.

“How convenient,” Tomoko laughed again, turning her focus back towards the scenery ahead of you. “All joking aside, there may be a possibility you just forgot him. People are weird. Someone could be the most important person in your life one day and then completely gone by the next. When that happens, no matter how sad it may seem, it’s only natural for the memory of them to fade along with them, right?”

You sighed, slumping deeper against the vending machine. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

For the first time since you arrived here, you truly took in your surroundings for the first time. Though not terribly far from the school, you and Tomoko had gone a surprising distance and ended up in an area you had not ventured to in quite some time, and for obvious reasons.

Even years later, glancing at that dilapidated, sun worn little play house in the corner of this old park sent chills through you. The years had not been kind to it, and you wondered why of all the play equipment in the park that was the one they decided to keep. The entire place had been renovated in recent years and nearly everything besides the plant life had been replaced with something newer and nicer. Yet the playhouse of your nightmares still stood, taunting you to recall the memories you buried deepest within yourself.

You suppressed a shudder. In the darkest corner of your mind you could still hear your pursuer’s sneers through its thin walls, recalling the paralyzing fear you felt as they gained on you, clutching your body so hard your bones ached.

It had been a long time since you let your mind wander to that moment, so long it felt like an entire lifetime had passed. You are by no means a fighter now, but back then you really were a sitting duck, weren’t you? As your mind was further consumed by the ghosts of the past you cringed for your younger self. There were what, three or four boys gaining on you at that point? All of them were in your grade school class and none of them had any qualms over beating on the little new girl, even enjoying your torment. You recalled the leader of their posse was especially vile. He was relentless, refusing to stop until fat tears flooded down your ruddy cheeks. When he was successful in this, he would fling all manner of curses at you in his horrible, grating voice, just to add insult to injury. And then, he would laugh and laugh and laugh, finding your pain and misery absolutely hilarious, until he finally got bored and granted you reprieve for the day.

The day you ended up in this park was a particularly unlucky moment, one little miscalculation and you ended up with the whole herd after you. You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry replaying the fuzzy memory of the slap-stick chase scene in your brain, remembering how ungracefully you skittered into that little house made you shake your head slightly in shame.

The more you mused on it, the more your suppressed memories came to light. It was such a jarring moment from your childhood, but how did it end? You did eventually get out of there unharmed, but how? You sure as hell didn’t fight off those kids on your own…

Surging up from the deepest corners of your mind, it came to you in such a brilliant, violent onslaught that you were left momentarily breathless. Your body perked up as a memory surfaced to the forefront of your brain, one that had long since been buried.

The door being kicked open and the boy that followed. His messy hair, sharp eyes, tall stature, all now displayed in crystal clarity through the visions of your past. Even in his youth his strength was unparalleled, made evident by how easily he beat back your pursuers, returning to your company covered in their blood and grime. At that time, who would have imagined he would become your most cherished friend and trusted companion throughout those childhood days? After he saved you that day, he cemented himself as your own personal hero. How could you forget him?

How could you ever forget Taiju Shiba?

“Oh my god,” the words tumbled from your lips in a hoarse whisper. Dragging yourself to your feet, you were overcome by your realization. You wavered where you stood, mind and body fuzzy from a mixture of sudden movement and the clarity of remembrance.

“What? What is it?” Tomoko was by your side in an instant, grabbing your arm to steady you. There was concern in her voice as she continued, “Are you OK, you look a little wobbly?”

Your eyes darted to Tomoko, snapping you back to reality. Taking a few seconds to compose yourself, you shot her the most convincing smile you could muster.

“Oh um, I just realized I left all my stuff back in the classroom,” you responded sheepishly, not wanting Tomoko to catch on to your realization quite yet. It wasn’t as if you were lying, you did leave so quickly all your belongings had been abandoned back at school, but you also knew how Tomoko could be. As much as you loved her, you needed the time to process this actualization on your own without being hounded by the incessant questioning you were sure would follow your revelation.

“All my homework is still back in the classroom, including a project I really need to finish tonight,” you straightened yourself out, breaking from Tomoko’s hold. Brushing your skirt off, you looked back her way, “I need to go get it before they lock up for the night.”

Tomoko frowned, lightly slapping her palm against her forehead, “Ah, I am so sorry! That was totally my fault! I dragged you away without even thinking about that!” She picked up her own school bag, adjusting it on her shoulder as she took a step your way.

“I’ll come with you.”

“No,” you grimaced at how firm and fast you replied, noting the confusion in your friend’s eyes. “Sorry, it’s just you were telling me earlier that you were really behind on that book report, the one that’s due in two days? If you want to hang out later you better go get working on that.”

You were relieved when her face softened. She sighed dramatically, “As usual, you are right. I guess it’s time to face the music.”

She began her departure towards her home, waving at you over her shoulder as she walked. “I really do feel bad though, so next time we go out it’s my treat!”

You smiled, returning the wave, “I’ll hold you to that.”

~

You took your time on the trek back to the school, losing yourself in your thoughts along the way. It was hard to come to terms with the fact that the fierce man in your class was once your number one companion, but the more you compared the past and present in your head the more you wanted to kick yourself for not recognizing him sooner. He looked nearly the same, just much bigger and more mature. In your years apart he had definitely grown from that surly little boy you held so dear to a man who was not to be trifled with. He seemed so adult now that thinking back on the way his eyes bore into you in the classroom, the weight of his presence as he stood so closely beside you, it made your face burn. Had you changed as much as he had? Sure you were also bigger now, but compared to him, you couldn’t imagine yourself as being anything but a silly little school girl, weak and nervous.

What else had changed, you wondered? Tomoko had filled you in on the rumors surrounding Taiju, but they weren’t something that you wanted to believe. However now that you had seen him currently, you couldn’t deny he had the swagger of someone who was up to no good, or could even be considered dangerous. Typical people your age didn’t show up to school buff as hell, covered in tattoos, and with a slew of rumors over previous violent exploits following in their wake.

You shook your head to dispel those thoughts. It had been years since you interacted with him, coming to conclusions about his character before even getting the chance to properly speak with him was not something you would allow yourself to do.

That is, if he even wanted to speak with you after you dipped out on him so quickly. Did you even have the courage within you to face him after forgetting your past with him and making such an ass of yourself?

You sighed, stopping to inspect the school yard as you approached the opening gates. A few people still milled about, most finishing up club activities or just getting done with some project or another. You were happy the building wasn’t completely abandoned, but also pleased by the desolation. The last thing you wanted was to run into a classmate who wanted to strike up a conversation while your mind felt like mush.

Still in your fog, you had made it to your classroom. Through the window on the entryway door you could tell the lights had been turned off, the only illumination coming from the rapidly setting sun streaming through widows along the back wall. It was quiet inside, and you breathed a sigh of relief when the handle pushed down, granting you access into the abandoned room.

At least, you thought it was abandoned.

“What do we have here,” a taunting voice startled you, “You lost, sweetheart?”

Before you sat Taiju Shiba, leaning back nonchalantly with his feet propped against your desk. Flanking him stood two equally imposing figures, neither of which you had ever seen before. One was to the right of Taiju, farthest from where you stood. He was the one who addressed you. His body swiveled your way as he gave you a once over, his amusement expressed with a low chuckle. Instinctively you took a small step back as he fully turned your way, which he was quick to take note of with a devious twinkle sparking in his eye. The stranger’s curled black hair cast shadows that obscured his face, but not enough to hide the sly grin that sat upon his lips.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” the blonde to the left of him spoke, his voice sounding much more aggressive than his impassive stare let on. His droopy, cold eyes held firm to you, causing you immense discomfort. You weren’t sure if it was the way the light fell on him or if his face was actually scarred, but based on his general disposition, you were leaning towards the latter. “We’re busy, leave.”

The darker haired boy gave another small laugh, “Damn Inupi, you certainly have a way with people, don’t you? The school is public domain and she’s wearing its uniform, which makes her a student. She has a right to be here,” he shot you a mischievous smile, “It’s just a bit unfortunate that she had to stumble in to this room while we were having an important meeting. Who knows what she could have heard through that door?”

You stiffened, goosebumps peppering your flesh as you now had the two strangers complete attention. The one addressed as Inupi was quick to speak after his cohort. “When you put it that way, maybe she should stay a bit? We’ll make sure she fully understand the importance of whatever she eavesdropped on not leaving this room.”

Before they could continue, Taiju’s firm voice halted them.

“Koko, Inupi,” he commanded. The two boys flinched as their names were spoken, turning a hesitant eye to the man who lounged behind them, “She’s here to see me, you can both leave now.”

A confused moment of silence hung in the air as the two boys looked from each other, to you, back to Taiju. The dark haired boy (or Koko as you had ascertained by process of elimination) was the first to respond.

“Here to see you,” he questioned, staring at you with far more interest now, “During the middle of our meeting? Boss, who is she?”

“My special guest,” Taiju shot back curtly, “Now fuck off.”

So concerned with the new faces, you momentarily forgot that Taiju was even present. However you were grateful when the two boys backed off, immediately deferring to the one who sat ominously behind them.

The boys shot each other one more glance before bowing to Taiju. They made their way to the exit, going around you on either side. You remained still, afraid to so much as breath until they were out of the room. Your eyes trained on the ground as they brushed against you. A small chuckle came from Koko, a shiver passing down your spine at the proximity of his voice.

“Go easy on her boss,” he joked, one foot out the door, “She looks delicate.”

The door clicked softly closed behind them, and you listened as their footsteps and murmured speech faded with their hasty exit.

Now you were alone with Taiju.

He removed his feet from your desk, placing them firmly on the floor. The movement caught your eye, your heart rate quickening as he leaned forward, back hunched as he rested his elbows on his knees. Even crouched he looked big, his solid, unflinching form making you feel a mix of comforted and uneasy. A heady feeling of nostalgia overcame you as his gaze stayed trained on yours, his expression difficult to read. You felt pinned down, unable to move or speak under the crushing weight of his stare and your own emotions.

Before you could stop them, you felt tears pool in your eyes. Suddenly you were seven years old again, standing in that desolate parking lot, staring at the boy who left such a gaping hole in your heart.  

“… Taiju,” Your voice cracked when you finally found the will to speak. You took an uncertain step forward, sweaty hand clamped tightly to your side, “I remember. The playground, that day… Those kids were chasing me and you found me in the playhouse. I remember all of it.” Your mind whirred as you contemplated what to say next, the end result coming out in a blubbering jumble.  “How could I have… it was awful of me to… I am so sorry-“

You were cut off by your own sobbing, unable to utter another word without a rush of tears. You buried your face in your hands in a poor attempt to mask the intense reaction. You felt ridiculous and confused, wanting to embrace him but knowing it was not your place to. You were more or less strangers now, and after forgetting him, you were sure he was hurt enough that he probably wanted it to remain that way.

Unsure of what else to say, you turned your face away from the man. Your surroundings had become obscured by your tears, the desks and chair encircling you little more than blurred brown blots. You sniffled, rubbing the back of your hand against your tear swelled eyes in a poor attempt to dispel them.

Nearly a decade had passed since you last spoke to him, and it was clear from his overall presentation that things had changed. He had changed. And to be fair, you had too. The reasonable side of you knew that this encounter may as well be considered the first time meeting Taiju, and the differences in your personalities at this point in life may be far too different to reconcile. So on top of making a continual fool of yourself in front of him, from what you saw and experienced thus far, you weren’t even entirely sure you would like the person he became.

It was that realization that made you hurt the most.

But that didn’t stop the desperate feeling that was clawing through your chest, wanting what you once had. Those rose hued days of childhood spent with your best friend, your protector, YOUR Taiju. The admiration and love that you had buried so deep had bubbled up, wracking your body with nervous energy as you stood before him. You wrapped your arms around yourself to quell your quivering, but it did little to get your emotions in check.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts you neglected to hear Taiju move, only becoming aware of his presence as his feet came into view. Your eyes darted up, a sharp intake of breath passing your lips in surprise of how close he had become. This definitely constituted as invading your personal space, his body so close that if you leaned forward even the slightest you were sure to make contact with him. You considered taking a step back to give yourself room to breathe, but the glint his eyes held instantly made you reconsider.

His demeanor was expectant, eyes hungry. There was potency to his stare that made your knees feel weak, his presence domineering as he inspected you. You flinched when he raised a hand, stilling as he gently placed it atop your head.

“You’re still so small,” a taunting smirk tugged at his lips, “How’d you protect yourself while I was away?”

“You scared them enough that they left me alone after you moved away,” you hiccuped, still uncomfortable with his proximity, “I’ve been staying out of trouble since then.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, his hand languidly petting down your head till it fell to your cheek. His palm was rough as it cradled you, but you were surprised by how delicate his hold was. His fingers barely ghosted your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Such a good girl,” his low voice created an eruption of butterflies in your stomach, “You always have been, haven’t you?”

He paused for a moment, his eye taking on a contemplative look.

“But even good girls can fuck up.”

Your brow furrowed in concern as his grip on you tightened, his hand coming just short of pinching you. Your heart hammered in your chest as he slowly bent down, only stopping once you were eye to eye. His jaw was set and his glare was cold, any hint of amiability far removed.

“You haven’t cheated on me, have you?” The words were sharp as he spoke them. His grip tight on your cheek, keeping your full attention trained his way.

“… Cheated?” Your confusion was palpable, frantic eyes scouring his face for any sign that he may be messing around.

He slammed his free hand behind you, making you jump. His body was now leaned into yours, caging you in between the wall and his broad form.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he spoke through clenched teeth, “Did you forget about me because you were too busy fucking around with someone else? Is that it?”

The surrealistic nature of the situation astounded you. “I don’t have a boyfriend?” It wasn’t a lie. You had had your share of crushes, sure. You had even had your first kiss, as lackluster as it may have been. But the closest thing you ever had to a true boyfriend was probably Taiju.

Your response only agitated him further, a strained laugh leaving his down turned lips, “Real funny babe, but I don’t remember ever fucking breaking up with you. In fact, I even recall you thanking me for being your boyfriend, or did you forget that too?”

You were dumbfounded by his words, staring at him blankly for a few moments before his eyes began to narrow, denoting that he was awaiting a response.

“I thought…” Your voice trailed off, the ‘you didn’t want me anymore?’ going unsaid. Whatever this situation was turning into, you realized directing any fault back at Taiju was not a good move.

“You thought what?” He spat back. You could feel his patience diminishing by the second.

“You’re right,” your voice came out as little more than a squeak, “we never did end things.” Fear was beginning to course through you when Taiju didn’t back down at your confirmation. If anything, he seemed to grow more heated by the moment. Your mind wandered back to the first time you met, how easily he was able to viciously tear down those other kids, the way he came back to you marked with their blood. If he was capable of that as a child, what damage could he inflict now?

He hummed, “So that makes you my mine,” his hand continued traveling downwards, stopping once it was secured around your neck, “And good girls don’t mess around on their boyfriends, right? My good girl certainly wouldn’t do that to me, would she?”

A feeling of trepidation welled up inside of you. Taiju was wrong. He had no right to threaten you over an agreement made in your youth, and he was the one who ultimately left you in the dust, not the other way around. Whatever twisted narrative he had running though his mind was no fault of your own. However, feeling the gentle press of his fingers on your neck, staring into the manic gleam reflected in his eyes, all you could do was nod your head what little his grip would allow you, hoping the reassurance, no matter how forced, would grant you enough leeway to have him trust you.

“You haven’t left my mind for day,” his voice was deceptively gentle, clashing with the strain your body felt in his grasp, “When I sleep I have dreams about you. When I am around other women I fantasize about you, envisioning the person you had become. My little (name), never once was I not thinking of you.”

With a sharp squeeze, his strong fingers cinched your airway.

“So how the fuck could you forget about me?”

You sputtered in his grasp. Your hands quickly latched to his arm, tugging him in a vain effort to loosen his hold. He studied you for a moment, his expression tumultuous. You couldn’t quite tell if he looked saddened, furious, or just a mixture of the two. Heavy tears rolled down your cheeks as you attempted to croak out his name, your struggle growing more desperate as the second ticked by.

A rogue tear had snaked its way down your cheek before coming to its final resting place atop Taiju’s hand. The barely noticeable sensation seemed to pull him to his senses. He relinquished his grip, a sharp, painful gasp tearing through your lungs with the new found freedom.  With little time to recover, his went to grab your chin, forcing his face so close to yours the tips of your noses were brushing.                  

“Explain it to me baby,” his voice was softer, but it didn’t lose its malicious edge, “because I’m having a real hard time understanding on my own.”

You were shaking so hard you were afraid you were going to collapse. Light headed from the lack of oxygen, your words were punctuated by shaky breaths as you responded. “I didn’t know what to do with myself when you left. When I watched you drive off that last time I felt like a part of me had gone away and was never going to come back.”

Despite the precarious situation, your cheeks burned red at your admission. You were quick to continue, “I-I guess my brain forcing you out was my response to be able to move on.” You looked up at him through teary eyes, “Taiju why didn’t you talk to me? I know you saw me. You were looking right at me and you still just left me behind. I can’t tell you how many nights I stayed up wondering what I did wrong.”

The tail end of sentence came out in little more than a breathy sob as you came to the realization that any blossoming hope for fixing your relationship was down the drain. The boy you used to know had abandoned you, and the man before you was clearly not the same person. Nauseous and embarrassed to be bearing your soul so openly, you squeezed your eyes closed, no longer wanting to face the truth that lay before you.

There were many moves Taiju could have made in this situation. You figured if anything, seeing you blubbering and frightened would just piss him off more, maybe even disgust him. Needless to say you were not expecting the feel of his lips on yours. Your eyes shot open, bewildered by the feel of his supple skin covering your mouth. Uncharacteristically soft at first, it took your brain a few seconds to catch up to what was actually going on. When there was no resistance on you end, Taiju took that as a sign to continue. The gentle caress became needy, eager. His hand released your chin to wrap firmly around the base of your skull, keeping you from any attempts of pulling away. His other arm snaked around your waist, jerking your body flush against his own. His thick arm kept you plastered to him, his hand flipping up your skirt to shamelessly grope your ass.

That broke you from your daze, the severity of the situation you were in hitting you full force. You squirmed in his grasp, but that only made his hold tighter, constricting you to a point of pain. You whimpered when he forced his tongue past your lips, his mouth feverishly working yours until your jaw ached. A groan of approval rumbling from his chest when you, unsure of how else to proceed, weakly began to reciprocate. You were afraid of what he might do if you didn’t.

It was all so invasive, uncomfortable. You felt like you were being devoured.

After some time Taiju broke away, but made no move to distance himself. Panting with eyes blazing, his voice came out husky as he spoke to you.

“I never wanted to leave you behind. Don’t for a second think that was my own choice.” He straightened himself out, pushing your head against his chest. The sound of his rapidly beating heart thrummed in your ear as he cradled you. “I never forgave my father for that. But at that time I was just a kid, powerless to make any moves without his intervention. But know this, no one holds power over me now.”

Silence hung heavy in the air, your neck hurting from a mix of his previous choke hold and the awkward angle he held you in. You remained frozen against him, not wanting to upset the delicate peace that had come over Taiju. He released a breath, his arms loosening their grip on you. When he stepped back, you took the chance to also create some space as well, quickly tidying your uniform and hair to revert back to some semblance of normalcy, pretending that none of this had just occurred.

“You’re forgiven this time, but playing dumb again will award you no favors,” a devilish smirk lit his face, “You’re lucky I love you. That and that you look so fucking hot crying for me like that.”

Any flushing your body experienced increased tenfold with his words. You wanted to run and hide, and this desire must have shown on your face, as it elicited another snicker from Taiju. You made due with folding your arms across your chest, taking in steady breathes to calm your rampant nerves.

This entire evening felt so unreal that there wasn’t a single moment your brain wasn’t plagued with questions. Profoundly concerned with how openly he grabbed you, how quickly he told you he loves you, and how easily he forced himself on you as if he had the right to, you had no idea where to even begin unraveling this moment. You weren’t the same person you once were, how could he so boldly declare these affections to you so soon after seeing you again?

There were voices screaming in the back of your head to run, he wasn’t safe, you should be angry, you should stand up for yourself, none of this is normal, you need to leave now and tell someone what happened.

But the way his eyes held you, a serene sort of affection in them as he smirked down at your flustered form, you couldn’t deny the way it made your stomach flip into a knot of giddiness. Taiju was back. Were you really going to let him slip away again without a proper chance?

He began making his way to the exit door. Propping it open with his foot, he turned back to you and extended his hand.

“Come on,” he called, “We have catching up to do.”

Despite all your reservations you nodded, grabbing on to his outstretched hand.

~

Today was all about being pushed outside your comfort zone.

It was nearing night time now. You had sent a quick call to your parents to let them know you would be home late, concocting a lie that you had gone to Tomo’s house to study and her parents had invited you to stay for dinner. You didn’t’ always see eye to eye with your parents, and you definitely had your disagreements with them, but they loved you and always had your best interests in mind. There was an unpleasant lump in your throat as the fib spilled so easily from your lips, knowing they had no reason not to trust you. You were riddled with guilt as your dad’s pleasant voice told you to have fun and not get up to too much mischief, telling you he loved you before hanging up the call.

If he knew the house you were really headed to was Taiju’s, would he still be so understanding?

At the time of departure, you weren’t sure where Taiju was taking you. You had asked him of course, but only got a snipped ‘don’t worry about it’ in response. The danger of the situation was not lost on you, but you calmed yourself down by reassuring yourself that people had watched you leave the building with Taiju, you had spoken to your family and they were expecting you home tonight, and above all, Taiju himself wouldn’t do anything to truly jeopardize your safety, right?

You had departed with him on the back of his motorcycle, which was a first for you. Apprehensive to even board the bike, you swore Taiju made a point to drive extra recklessly if for no other reason than to feel your arms squeeze him tighter as you held on for dear life. Woozy from the sharp turns and sudden accelerations, by the time you had parked and got off the bike your legs were so unsteady you were concerned you couldn’t make it inside without stumbling.

If there was a word you would attribute to Taiju’s current home it would be ‘affluent’. Your jaw nearly dropped when he walked you to the front of the towering building, its pristine modern walls glistening in the light of the street lamps. Seeing your expression Taiju smirked, assuring you the whole thing wasn’t theirs. The building itself was a condominium of sorts and housed many families, only about a floor of it belonged to the Shiba’s.

“Oh, so only a floor of the fanciest complex in the neighborhood belongs to your family,” you joked nervously, standing behind him as he keyed in the code to unlock the front gate. “How silly of me. Should I expect a butler greeting me at the door?”

Taiju snorted, glancing back at you as he stepped through the now open gateway. “Get your head out of the clouds and come on. I didn’t bring you here to gawk at the architecture.”

You nodded, blushing a bit in embarrassment. Following closely behind Taiju, you couldn’t’ help but marvel the sleek feel of the place. The spotless welcome desk manned by an equally put together looking hostess, a small waiting area off the lobby housing the plushest furniture you had ever seen, the lustrous hallway housing the stairs and elevator. Even the inside of the elevator itself seemed ornate as you traveled up to his floor.

The elevator stopped at its destined floor, dinging as the doors unfolded. You followed after Taiju who walked a few steps further down the hallway.

“Joke aside, this place really is beautiful Taiju,” you spoke as he slid his key in the door, “It makes me happy knowing you and your family can live in such a nice place.” You didn’t want to come off as judgmental, but based on Taiju’s rough exterior and what you remembered of his situation, you were more than a little concerned with what his life at home may be like.

You couldn’t see what expression he wore as he opened the door, but his voice rang clear as he responded to you.

“I know how to take care of my people.”

You only had a moment to muse on the strangeness of his statement, confused as to why he made it seem like he was the main bread winner in their family. Sure, he may have a part time job of some kind, but surely their father was who ran the household and paid the expenses, right? He may even be remarried at this point, this home certainly seemed like a shared expenses kind of deal.

“You’re home early,” an irritated, feminine voice broke your concentration, “I thought you said you’d be out late tonight?”

Taiju grunted, “Plans changed. (Name), come here.”

You followed his order, stepping into the entryway beside him. The interior was just as nice as the rest of the place, smartly furnished and without a thing out of place. The only disturbance in the décor was a rogue bowl with a spoon inside that sat atop the coffee table beside the couch. The cushions of said couch were in bit of disarray as well, obscured by the girl seated on top of them.

She looked about your age, and despite the fact that her face was scrunched into an unamused scowl, you were taken with how lovely she was. Her copper hair was thrown up in a messy bun, and from the look of her comfy attire, she had already donned her sleep wear for the night. Her eyes were impassive as they bore into Taiju, but you noticed she was giving him her undivided attention, posture rigid as she waited for Taiju to continue.

“Introduce yourself to (Name).” He commanded, placing his hand on the small of your back to usher you in front of him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Her manners seemed forced, her address to you distant as she gave a brief bow. “I’m Yuzuha Shiba, Taiju’s sister.”

Recognition once again flooded your brain. She had grown, but those clear defiant eyes were unmistakable. You bowed back to her, a smile on your lips.

“I’m (First) (Last),” you righted yourself, “um, it’s nice seeing you again…”

She shot you a quizzical look. It made sense that she wouldn’t recognize you. You certainly would have had no recollection of her if not for Taiju sparking your memory. Regardless, it was nice to see her. You always felt bad for how you left things that day, maybe now you could make amends.

“Are you still having trouble getting doll clothes on?”

The look of confusion that knotted her brow eased with the realization.

“Oh my God,” she spoke, getting to her feet, “You’re the girl who helped me on that play date you had at our house! You said (Name), right?”

You laughed softly, slightly ashamed that she was able to remember you so quickly when you had to struggle to remember her family. “Yeah, that’s me! It’s been a long time. I’m surprised you remember me at all.”

Yuzuha returned your laugh, but you noticed there was a hint of melancholy to it. “Well it’s kinda hard to forget someone when they remain a source of conversation in your household for years.” Her eyes shot to Taiju, her expression instantly falling, “I guess he ended up finding you again, huh?”

Before you had the chance to dig deeper into Yuzuha’s reply, you felt Taiju step up beside you. Looking up at his face, you noted he was giving Yuzuha a pointed look, fists starting to form at his side.

Realizing her brother’s discontent, she cleared her throat, “But yeah, it’s good to see you too.” She shifted her weight on her feet, tucking a strand of rogue hair behind her ear. She was doing her best to ignore Taiju’s steady surveillance of her, the intense monitoring making even you uneasy. It seemed the sibling’s relationship hadn’t gotten any better in the past few years.

“So how did you guys meet up anyway,” she sounded mellow, but her nervous ticks continued, “did you bump into each other out on the street or…?”

“We’re in the same class,” you responded cheerily, attempting to alleviate the uncomfortable gloom that had overtaken your arrival, “I feel horrible, I didn’t recognize Taiju at first, even though he recognized me right away. We had a whole conversation and everything before I realized who he was, if you can believe that. ” You smiled at the man in question shyly, before looking back to Yuzuha, “I’m excited to make up lost time with you guys.”

It was your turn to feel uncomfortable as Taiju inched up closer to you, intertwining his long, lithe fingers with your own. Still unused to such blatant physical contact your stomach flipped as he gave your hand a tight squeeze. Yuzuha’s eyes darted to where you connected with her brother, a dismal look displaying on her girlish face.

It would be easy to mistake her look for one of distaste. In the brief time you had seen them interact, Taiju and Yuzuha certainly seemed like oil and water, but maybe you were wrong about their relationship? It was possible she and Taiju had actually grown tightknit and the thought of some random girl coming in to throw off the balance was nothing but an annoyance to her. Perhaps to her you were an eyesore, and those weird comments earlier about you being a point of discussion were jabs at you that went right over your head.

If it weren’t for the fact that her eyes were filled with so much regret, peering over at you as if she were in mourning for you, that you would be inclined to believe that that were the case.

“Where’s Hakkai?”

Taiju’s question perked Yuzuha up. Her fidgeting ended, her body becoming fixed in place.

“He went out for a little bit, said he was gonna grab some dinner with a friend or something.”

She sounded disinterested, almost emotionless in her response. But partnered with her quick change in posture you got the feeling she was covering for him, and with how trained her response came, it was not the first time she had done it either.

Taiju scoffed, “Well isn’t it a shame that we’ll have to end that little pow-wow early? Call him right now and tell him to come home. It’s rude to leave when guests are over.”

His barked words garnered Yuzuha’s glare, “How could he have known (name) was coming over? You didn’t even know she was coming over! Please Taiju, he won’t be much later, can’t we just-“

“That doesn’t fucking matter,” Taiju growled, releasing his hold on you as he took a step towards his sister, “You both come when I call, no questions asked. Now pick up the damn phone, or I’ll-”

Before you could fully think out a response, you lurched forward and gripped his arm to stop him. His head jerked your way, annoyance in his eyes as words began to rush from your mouth.

“It’s OK Taiju, really,” your voice shook, intimidated as you felt the muscles of his arm flex in your grasp, “I came over here to spend time with you, right? It would be nice to have Hakkai here, but you’re the one I really want to be catching up right now with, you know? I’m sure I’ll see Hakkai some other time when I come over to visit you again.”

His ego was stroked just enough by your words that his demeanor calmed. He was pleased by your response, a slight smile displayed on his lips. Seeing him calm soothed you as well. At least for now Yuzuha and Hakkai were out of the hot seat. You were learning very quickly the best way to handle Taiju’s mood swings.

After a moment’s contemplation, Taiju sighed. “Fine, leave him be. But next time, he better be here to show some respect or there will be problems.”

Without further interruption, he locked your hand in his. Tugging you towards him with a huff, he meandered off deeper into their home, pulling you along in tow.

“Don’t fucking bother us.” He called over his shoulder to his sister, who had once more seated herself on the couch. She shot you one last look, one that conveyed equal parts gratitude and apology.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

~

Taiju’s room, though technically an entirely different room now, was a lot like how you recalled it.

It was much larger than his childhood room, comfortably housing a number of furniture pieces and a sizable bed with room to spare. Everything inside were neat and orderly, save for a few misplaced and tussled items here and there. As soon as you both had entered he made a quick pass through, straightening something here, concealing something there. He told you to sit at a small, low table that sat square in the center of the room. You complied, and as you situated yourself he remarked that he would be right back with something to drink.

You were grateful for a moment to yourself as he slipped out of the door, closing it securely behind him. You released a deep sigh, dropping your head till it was resting flat against the table’s smooth surface. Now that it was just you and your thoughts, worry began to rear its ugly head. Was it really a good idea to be here, or were you just letting fuzzy memories of bygone days cloud your better judgement? The way Taiju had treated you since your reunion… It wasn’t healthy and it certainly wasn’t right. You placed your hand gingerly on your neck, cringing at the sting left by his fingers. He had forced himself on you and took advantage of you in a state of vulnerability. Even his own sister was treated like some kind of foot solider he could order around. If he could treat people he says he loves like that, you’d hate to see how he handles the people he hates.

Your heavy eyes fell closed as your mind continued its contemplation's. For him to push his built up affections on you, feelings that had long since lost the innocence of your childhood day, right after seeing him again after years apart… it was too much too soon. He was already demanding so much of you and was treating you as if you belonged to him. The longer you dwelled on these thoughts, the more despondent you became. You missed your old Taiju, you wanted him back. But was any trace of him left inside that man at all?

You steeled your resolve. If Taiju kept treating you this way, you decided you wouldn’t let it go farther than this.  The fate of your relationship hinged on this conversation. You clenched the wrinkled fabric of your skirt in your fist, heart pounding in your tight chest. If you knew it was going to be this hard, you almost wished he had stayed a forgotten memory.

“You didn’t fall asleep on me, did you?”

Bolting upright, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He scoffed as he sat down a mug of steaming tea before you.

“Damn baby, if you’re bored just say it. I can liven things up whenever you like.”

You shook your head, choosing to ignore the underlying connotations of his comment, “I’m sorry, I was just taking a moment to breathe. It’s been quite the day.”

You laughed nervously, hoping he wouldn’t misconstrue your words. To your relief, he simply nodded, plopping down across from you at the other end of the table. He let out a long sigh, leaning back on one arm while resting the other on his knee. You noticed he seemed much more relaxed in the comfort of his own room. With no one else around, the air of animosity that enveloped him at all times broke, making Taiju much more approachable. Though never truly loosing its edge, his face had calmed too, placidity over taking it that you wouldn’t think was previously possible with Taiju.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad it’s just us.” Your heart fluttered at how soft his voice sounded as he spoke. Momentarily lost in the adoring look he had captured you in, you found yourself smiling back.

Hope began to bloom in your chest. Maybe Taiju wasn’t a lost cause.

“Me too,” you beamed, blowing lightly on your tea before taking a small sip. It was (fav. flavor), your favorite, though you were pretty sure he wouldn’t have known that. Tea was a gross adult drink the last time you two had interacted, soda and sugary juices reigning supreme. Maybe his choice was a lucky guess, or maybe his penchant for reading you hadn’t changed.

“Maybe I should go say hello to your father,” the thought donned as you as you put down your cup. Your arrival was rather abrupt and you didn’t feel right barging into someone’s home so unannounced. “If he’s home, that is. If you guys were planning dinner or something it would be rude to show up unannounced, you know?”

Taiju laughed, “Always so polite, huh? Don’t worry though, dads gone so much that he has his own place. It’s just me, Hakkai, and Yuzuha here.” Taiju took a drink of his own beverage, “I want you to know you can come over whenever and treat this place as your home. You don’t have to be on edge.”

You waved your hand, “Easier said than done, I’d hate to be a bother to you guys,” you smiled, “But I’ll try. Thank you for the warm welcome.”

A beat of time passed before the rest of his words sunk into your brain. “Wait a minute, you guys live here alone?” The incredulity slipped out in your tone, “Are you guys okay? You aren’t… struggling, are you?”

He closed his eyes in consideration. “If you’re worried we can’t afford it, we wouldn’t be here if that were the case. I told you, I take care of my people.”

You gave a hesitant nod, happy he didn’t take offense to your concern, but still surprised by this revelation. Was Mr. Shiba so wealthy he could afford this place for his children, as well as a place on his own? Or were Taiju, Yuzuha, and Hakkai footing the bill on their own? Regardless, it certainly was not a typical family situation.

“How about you,” Taiju spoke up, “You still living in the same place with your family?”

“Yes, I am. Same house not too far from here, actually.”

You were surprised at how fluidly the conversation progressed from there, with no uncomfortable gaps, weird moments of silence, or forced pleasantries. You found it easy to open up to Taiju again as he listened intently to every story you regaled him with. He was an active participant, throwing you questions left and right, taking every answer to heart. It was refreshing, speaking so freely with him without him snapping in response. He seemed content just to be basking in your presence, reveling in the tales you shared of your life from past to current. The only time his face ticked to irritation would be when you would mention any male friends, so to keep the peace you made sure to keep those stories to a minimum.

You, of course, wanted to hear more about Taiju as well. He reciprocated, answering your questions with an aloof attitude, playing himself up whenever you seemed to take a particular interest in something he said.  It would get frustrating at points, especially when you found out Taiju was a master of redirection. Any time he mentioned something concerning from his past he was quick to change the subject, directing new questions your way in hopes you would forget. Even if you tried to come back to a previous subject, he’d shoot you a look letting you know it was best to drop it and move on, to which you complied. You were certain he was omitting certain details from you on purpose, probably because he could see how leery you grew when he spoke too much in a certain direction.

One thing was for sure, you were smart enough to piece together that his ‘well-paying and rewarding job’ was probably something you wanted as little information about as possible, and that his two ‘friends’ you met previously probably weren’t just shooting the breeze earlier when you interrupted their meeting.

Despite your concerns for Taiju and his current lifestyle, you spent the conversation in a state of elation. Now that you knew you could freely communicate with him, the future didn’t seem so uncertain. You could continue to grow together, learn about each other, and he would listen to what you had to say and (hopefully) take it to heart.

After some time had passed, your eyes happened to fall upon a clock Taiju had in his room. You heart dropped when you saw the vibrant 12:32AM glaring back at you.

“Oh no,” you mumbled, pointing to the clock in question, “That isn’t right is it?”

He lazily looked back, “Sure is. God, we are really gossiping like old ladies, aren’t we?”

Without responding to him, you grabbed your school bag that was leaning against the table leg. Rummaging through, it took a moment to find your phone at the bottom of all your belongings. Your anxiety spiked when you saw the numerous missed calls and texts from your parents. The most recent text was from Tomoko, and you instinctively pulled it up to read what she had to say.

(12:17pm) From Tomz:

Hey, can u message me when u get this? Ur parents have been blowing me up asking when u r gonna be home. I figured u had a reason for sayin u would be here so I vouched and said time got away from us and u would be home soon. But now I am just worried bcause ur mom text me again saying u aren’t back yet. L Plz let me know u r OK, I’m worried!!!

As you read her words, you gave a lopsided grin. Good ‘ol Tomo, she was always someone you could count on to have your back. You were lucky to have her in your life.

Your fingers flew as you typed out your reply.

(12:37am) From Me:

Thx so much!!! I am soooo srry I’ll call them right away. I’m fine! It’s a long story, I’ll tell you about it later. I owe u something good for this. <3

Directly after you had hit send, Taiju placed his hand over your phone, enveloping the screen.

“Hey,” you said, attempting to pull your phone away from his iron clad grasp, “Come on Taiju, I have to call my parents! I didn’t realize it had gotten this late. They are worried sick.”

“Tell them you’re spending the night.”

You felt as if all your blood had drained from your body when you heard the provocative tone of his voice. You searched his face for any hint of joking, and when you found no hint of play, a shiver shook your body.

He shifted himself around the table, scooting himself until he was directly at your side. In this apprehensive state, you loosened the grip on your phone. Quick to take note of this, he took it entirely in his hand, tossing it off in the corner of the room. Your body trembled harder as you felt him over you. Not quite touching you, yet close enough to feel his heat, his breath fanned against your hair.

“If they come and try to get you, you can tell your mom my kick has become a lot stronger since the last time she met me.”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” you muttered out, “I told them I would be home later, it makes sense they would be upset. I haven’t messaged them since I left the school.”

“They can get over it,” he countered, “Whoever tries to take you from me now is asking to get their ass beat.”

You scoffed, “Taiju, don’t you think that may be a little unreasonable?”

“I don’t. I prayed for this moment nightly, and my prayers were answered today.” His eyes took on a predatory sheen. “God gifted you back into my life. I’m not letting anyone else take you away ever again.”

You gasped when he hooked an arm around you, hoisting the two of you to your feet. He shoved you upright, the sudden action making you unsteady. Using this to his advantage he stalked closer to you, herding you back in the process. It all happened so quickly you had no time for resistance, the back of your legs hitting the side of his bed caused your knees to give way. You tumbled, your back landing against his plush comforter with a soft swoosh. He was quick to crawl over you, loosening his tie in the process.

“Last time you were on my bed we were too little for me to realize the opportunity I had before me,” his lips hovered over your own, expectant and ravenous eyes scouring your face as he savored the moment. “I’m not going to let it slip by me again.”

He crashed into you, lips furiously working yours as he forced his tongue inside. Finding his power too hard to combat, you accepted his kiss, whimpering when his teeth tugged roughly on your bottom lip. He made quick work of his shirt, nearly ripping it from his torso so that his hands could once again find purchase on your body. You squirmed in his feverish touch, whining as his hands groped up your sides, shamelessly kneading and pawing at your thighs, hips, stomach, and breasts in slow succession. He began to unbutton your top as he forced the lower half of his body in between your legs, sinking you down even deeper into his bed. You jolted as he pressed himself against your core, the unmistakable hardness you felt causing you to tremble beneath him.

Your arms flew to his chest, pushing on him in a futile attempt to shove him off of you. You were already distressed by the situation as is, but feeling him grind against you made you realize things were about to get so much worse.

He growled into your throat, knocking your hands aside to prevent what little resistance you displayed. He shimmied out of his pants before impatiently tearing through the last remaining buttons your shirt, your bra the only article now protecting your modesty. Wasting no time, his lips blazed over you, leaving a scorching trail down your neck and chest that left a pleasant burn on your flesh. His hands continued their ministrations, eliciting small gasps with every valley they traveled. Your nerves were slowly waning, trembles of fear turning into quivers of excitement. Though still scared, you couldn’t deny the pleasant pulse that Taiju was coaxing from within you.

His tongue laved over the skin the spilled from the top of your bra, nibbling and sucking his mark into the supple flesh. He flipped up your skirt so that he could press into your further. You whimpered as he rocked against you, getting a feeling for the magnitude of his length and girth. Wetness seeped from you, mingling with the precum that stained through his boxers.

“Do you feel that,” his voice was throaty, “Do you feel how much I want you? Do you know how much I fantasized about making this pretty pussy mine?”

He pulled himself up, needy mouth returning to your swollen lips in a quick kiss. Momentarily parting himself, he looked you square in the eye. His hair fell around his face, curtaining him off from the rest of the world. Only you could see the state he was in. Draped over you, his chest was rapidly rising and falling with ragged breaths. His golden eyes were blown wide, the perfect accent to his flushed face. He darted his tongue out to pass over his bottom lip, giving your disheveled form a drawn out once over. As he simpered down at you, he wore a look of utter intoxication. Caged in, he had you right where he wanted.

“I hate that you were taken from me.” He leaned in closer, “I hate that in that time some dickhead could have touched you, hurt you. I hate that I had to spend years of my fucking life without you by my side.”

“Taiju…” Your voice came out breathy as you stared into his face. You were taken with how handsome he looked in the moment, wild and passionate, ready to snap any moment and devour you whole. Your panic ebbed, leaning into the large hand that made its way to your cheek. He used his thumb to gently skim under your eye, wiping away rogue tears you hadn’t realized that you had shed.

“You’re mine to protect, mine to love, mine to have, and in turn, I’m yours. Do you understand, (name)? You understand that this is where you belong?”

Without awaiting an answer, his lips once more sought your own. The desperation in his voice and in his touches made your previous resolution of standing up to him fly out the window. Your body melted as he held you, kissed you, loved you. You were both drowning in him and being resuscitated by him at the same time. Your brain was no longer making any sense at it warred and screamed about the situation you had caught yourself in. A nagging voice at the back of your mind was blaring that things were moving too fast, that you need to think this through. But right now you didn’t really care about the finer details, choosing instead listen to your heart as it pumped mercilessly in your chest, struggling violently to reach out to Taiju. It wanted him, needed him, and that was the only thing that currently made any sense to you in this heady moment.

“Yes,” you whispered in between kisses, finally working up the courage to truly kiss him back. No one ever made you feel this way like this before, his touches an experience you wanted to carve so deeply into yourself that you would never forget them. “I’m yours.”

“That’s my baby girl,” Taiju purred. He trailed his coarse palm up your thigh, fingers teasing their way up under your skirt. He stopped once he had hooked a finger through the elastic of your panties.

“You think you feel good now,” his voice was shaking with excitement as he started to tug, “Wait until I fill you up. It’s time to make up for all that lost time together.”

Feeling yourself become slowly exposed broke you from your daze. You felt good right now, better than you ever felt with another boy, and you would be lying if you said there wasn’t a large part of you that yearned to continue. But the truth was that this was your first time, and you were incredibly unprepared. You had barely even made it past first base in the past, and while this was all new and exciting, the thought of giving in and the repercussions that could cause was enough to make you feel sick. Even in a lust filled haze, the cons of where this all could lead was enough to clear up your mind.

“Wait,” your hand latched to his, halting his motions, “I-I don’t think I’m ready for that quite yet.”

“What do you mean,” Taiju responded, attempting to coerce you with soft kisses littered on your shoulder and chest, “Of course you are. I’m going to make you feel good baby, trust me. Haven’t you missed me?”

You fought him as he continued to tug, your grip staying firm, “I did miss you, but you’ve already made me feel good and I’m not ready to go that far. Please, stop.”

In response to your plea, Taiju released a deep sigh.  

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

In a fluid motion, he yanked his hand from your grasp, relocating it to your sopping folds. You mewled when he roughly shoved his fingers against your entrance, taking his time in trailing them up and down the length of you, giving special attention to when he would pass over your bud. More tears sprang to your eyes as you writhed beneath him, doing your best to create distance between the two of you. He had none of it, laughing darkly at your weak escape attempt. A toothy grin overtook his face as he watched your expressions contort under his forced pleasure.

Though you were fighting it, your body nonetheless began to relax under his touch, the slow, sensual glide of his fingers causing a mounting pleasant ache to electrify your body. Once he was satisfied with his work, he removed his hand. He clucked his tongue condescendingly as you bucked your hips up at him, missing the sensation. With his free hand, he latched onto your chin, forcing your lips apart to plunge his digits into your mouth. Your tongue rolled across his fingers, the bitter taste of your own slick assaulting your senses. After he felt you adequately licked them clean, he ripped his hand from your mouth.

“Taste that? That’s your body begging me to fuck your brains out,” he snarled. Gripping your hair he pulled your head up so that you were eye to eye. His other hand, still wet with your saliva, rested itself in a tight hold around your neck.

“So what now? You feel like being a bitch and lying to me again, or are you going to let me have my way? Either way this is ending the same sweetheart, but I can’t say you’ll much enjoy it if you decide to keep being a lying brat.”

Your mind was whirring, overwhelmed with the stimulus and terror. Were you going to be raped? Is that really how your night with Taiju was about to end? Your head was throbbing, your neck was sore, and your heart once again felt as if it were being shattered into a million pieces.

“Please Taiju,” you begged, “I’m not ready for this!” Your cries continued falling on deaf ears, and you were growing more desperate when his hand left your neck, making the descent back to your skirt.

“Please… I love you, I just… I just want my first time with you to be perfect! I want myself to be perfect for you, please… I want you so bad, but I don’t want to rush our time together!”

Your mind had become such a hazy mess that you weren’t quite sure what words you were babbling anymore. Your body that moments prior was vibrating in ecstasy, was now shaking with sobs. You felt disgusting and betrayed lying on Taiju’s bed, half naked and covered in all manner of bodily discharge. You wanted to ball yourself up so tight no one would ever be able to get to you again, but you remained splayed out, open and vulnerable to the man above you. You sniffled, biting down so hard on your bottom lip it split, the tang of blood spilling across your tongue. It was ironic, you thought. In all the ways you had been hurt today you had yet to bleed until you inflicted it upon yourself.

Being so caught up in your emotions, you didn’t realize that Taiju had stopped his assault. It wasn’t until you felt your body being scooped up, arms wrapped around you protectively as he rested your head in the crook of his neck, that you began to quiet yourself. He pressed his cheek to the crown of your head, running his fingers absentmindedly through your hair. You stared at the curving tattoos that ran along his chest, momentarily stunned by what was occurring.

“Idiot,” he spoke, placing a chaste kiss to the top of your head, “You already are perfect for me, that’s why I want you so damn bad. But when you say cute shit like that I can’t help but listen to you.” He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, releasing another irritated sigh.

“Only you can turn me into fucking sap, you know that?”

You buried yourself deeper against his body to ground yourself, hoping to hide how rattled you were. This was such a close call. He was more than ready to have his way with you whether you wanted to or not, and the whole time you were powerless to stop him.

So why was he being so sweet now?

Why did you feel so comforted in his arms?

You didn’t understand any of this.

“Can I go home?” You choked.

“Yeah, but I’m going to take you,” he remarked, sounding the slightest bit defeated, “Clean yourself up first. I’m sure your parents are already going to bitch at you for this, let’s try not to make it worse.”

You gave a curt nod, and he released you. Scooting from the bed, you wanted nothing more than to get home and get a scalding shower. Maybe if you scrubbed enough, you’d be able to forget the whole night ever happened. The rest of the messy situation could wait till later to sort out.

You had made it to your feet, but before you could take a step forward Taiju’s thick arm draped itself across your shoulder. You stilled, tension gripping your body. He hadn’t changed his mind about letting you go home, had he?

“You better start working on a convincing story now,” his voice was husky in your ear, dripping with barely concealed lust that was enough to reignite your panic. He brushed your hair to one side, placing a lingering open mouthed kiss in the dip of your neck. A shiver rocked you as his lips languidly sucked at your sensitive skin, intent on leaving one final mark.

“Tomorrow I’m not letting you leave. You’re staying the whole night with me.”

His hold was not so tight that you couldn’t pull away, yet you found yourself unable to move. One part of you was begging you to run, get out of this place and sprint down the street without looking back. Once you were in the safety of your own home, he couldn’t get you. Just like with the bullies of your childhood, once you passed the threshold of your house, you were invincible.

But a bigger, bitterer part of you laughed at that naivety. You understood now why Yuzuha had looked at you so forlornly. She knew better than anyone once you were in Taiju’s possession that there was no escaping.

“Yeah,” you were quick to wipe a tear from your eye, taking a steadying breath before you continued.

“I look forward to it.”

#reader x taiju shiba #taiju shiba x y/n #taiju shiba #yandere taiju shiba #yandere taiju x reader #Tokyo Revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev reader insert #yandere tokrev #tokrev x reader #yandere x reader #yandere fics #dark fic #tokrev x y/n #Yandere tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x y/n #taiju shiba x reader #girl you are kind of dumb as hell (affectionately) in this #but honestly #same #I will always belong to Taiju Shiba #this is not a healthy relationship #thank you for reading!!!

[radiant-reid]

Changes

a/n: okay, so the series makes this kind of confusing because most of the references are to Spencer going to Caltech but he's mentioned as going to MIT a couple of times. For the sake of this two-parter, he attends Caltech for two years where he gets one Ph.D. and two BAs, and then MIT for two years where he gets the other two PhDs.

Summary: Growing up and leaving to college is difficult enough without the love of your life going to their dream school across the country

spencer and the reader are dating in high school but he didn’t skip any grades and when he got into CalTech the reader was like “are we still dating?” “are we still gonna talk all the time?” And he’s like “ofc I love you” and then she’s like “okay 🥰”.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Content Warning: nothing ?

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist Navigation

Never did Y/n think that in public high school in Las Vegas would she find the most perfect boyfriend in the entire world. She figured she'd have to wait until she was older and out of the city to find someone she loved.

But then she met Spencer. A light in the crowded hallway between the cafeteria with gross food and the gym with superfluous funds.

No one could have treated her the way Spencer treated her. Especially not the 15-year-old jerk who thought they knew everything that made up the rest of the student body.

Since she was a freshman, Spencer was everything. He was gentle, shy, sweet, incredibly intelligent, surprisingly funny, and, of course, handsome.

There was a little doubt in her mind that things were too good to be true or things would eventually go wrong, but things went so well since they got together.

And then applying for colleges happened, and Y/n felt like her whole world was about to change. She has no doubt in her mind that Spencer would get into wherever he applied with a full ride. He'd already taken some elective classes locally, his SAT and ACT scores were perfect, and his class load and grades were unparalleled.

The problem was they'd spent so much time together that it felt terrifying to lose him, even though she didn't want to hold him back from the plethora of opportunities she knew he'd have.

It was cold that day in March when Spencer knocked on her door. Not even cold for a kid who grew up in Vegas, genuinely cold.

She quickly swung open the door when she checked that it was her boyfriend in the peephole. "Spencer, hi." She greeted him, pulling him inside.

"Hi, sweetheart." He said, following her through the house to the kitchen. He'd been there so many times over the years that it felt like home to him, too. "Where's everyone else?" He asked, eyes searching in each room.

"Well, my parents aren't here so..." She trailed off, winking at him suggestively.

It caused him to immediately blush, cheeks filling with red while he looked at his feet. And he always tried to act like it didn't bother him as he put his things on the kitchen island stool and cleared his throat. "How was your day?" He asked, watching as she walked to the other side of the kitchen.

"Good, do you want something to drink or eat?" She offered, always ready to feed her boyfriend who seemed to eat an enormous amount of food without gaining a pound.

Spencer shook his head. "No thanks, I'm okay."

She walked back around to where he was hovering near the seats, playing with the strap of the satchel he'd put down. "Why didn't you walk home with me?" She grilled, letting her insecurities show through for a minute.

"I had to get something at my house." He ambiguously answered.

"Is it in here?" She quickly asked, trying to look at his bag. "Is it a present? Can I see it?"

His eyebrows raised, and he hesitantly opened the bag to show her the mystery content. "Okay, here." He handed over a thick stack of envelopes.

She looked over them for a moment before her eyes widened quickly. When she glanced back up at Spencer, he was smiling as he watched her. "Oh my gosh, there are, like, 15 of these! And they're all thick!" She exclaimed, unable to be anything but thrilled at seeing his college decision letters.

"17." Spencer corrected, looking between his girlfriend and the envelopes which would change his life. "Did you check the mailbox? Yours should be here, too."

"No." She shook her head, already on the way to the door.

He laughed as he followed her outside. "What? You don't check the mailbox when you get home?"

"Nah, someone else usually does it." She answered, opening it to reveal some envelopes with her name on them. Fewer letters than Spencer had, but still a few thick envelopes.

There was a sense of urgency now that the letters were in their hands and Y/n could feel her heart thumping quickly as she laid the letters out on the kitchen bench.

"How are we going to do this?" Spencer asked, looking at the stack of letters that they had between them. He'd been nervous since he got them, but now that they were together, the opening was imminent.

"Okay, put them in order of where you'd most like to go, and we'll open them from the bottom." She decided, already sorting her letters. They both already knew what her top was and that school found its way stretched furthest up the kitchen countertop.

She wasn't surprised by Spencer's list either, except for his number 1 choice: Caltech. Her top choice, and the schools near to it, didn't rank in his top five and it made her bite her lip without saying anything.

After some intense letter opening and complete acceptance from Spencer's pile, there was one left for both of them.

She was almost sure she wasn't going to get in, and he could see it written all over her face. Her heart was pounding even though she had convinced herself she wouldn't get accepted.

"Hey, you'll get in," Spencer assured her, swiveling on the stool, and turning hers towards him, so his knee slotted between hers.

Clutching the envelope, she ran her finger over the seal. It looked thick enough to be good news, but she wouldn't let herself believe it. "Can you go first?" She asked, looking back to his last abandoned envelope.

"Sure." He agreed, taking the envelope off the bench and opening it. It was the school he most wanted to go to, but maybe he'd be able to settle for his full ride at Yale. With a deep breath, he opened it, reading the important decision in a second. "I got in!" He announced, more excited than he intended to sound.

"Oh my gosh, Spencer!" She cheered, lurching forward to kiss him before she could help herself. "I knew you would." She grinned as she pulled back.

He chased her lips, kissing her again while taking the envelope out of her hand. "Do you want me to?" He offered, seeing how much concern it was causing her.

"Sure." She agreed, letting him open it. To get her mind off it, she talked. "I'm happy going to Georgetown, though. It's a good school, and I want to live in DC anyway."

He nodded along with her, poker face too good to reveal whether or not she got into her ultimate dream school. "It is a good school, and I'm sure we will live in DC together, but... you're going to Harvard, Y/n."

Her hands clapped over her mouth, shock flooding her face as the information sunk in. "Holy shit."

He giggled lightly, handing over the letter so she could read it. "Yeah, holy shit is right. I knew you could do it, my smart girl."

Y/n read over it about a hundred times before she realized it was real. All the hours she put in studying finally felt like they'd paid off. Then her face fell when her brain thought far enough into the future. "Wait, I can't go, though." She said, shaking her head.

"What? You have to. That's a full-ride acceptance letter to an amazing college." He quickly replied, noticing there was something more going on. His hand came to cup her cheek when a tear fell from her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You're going to California. I can't go to Massachusetts. That's too far away." She stated, her heart absolutely breaking at the thought of being so far away. Exactly how many miles it was, she didn't know, but Spencer would, and she didn't ask because she knew it would only make her sadder. Spencer was the love of her life, and she couldn't imagine her life living on the other side of the country from him.

Firmly, he shook his head, cupping her cheeks so she wasn't focused on the letters. "How would you feel about me going to MIT instead of Caltech?"

She shook her head quickly that time. "You want to go to Caltech, though. It's your top choice."

"Yeah, and Harvard is yours." He reminded her, waiting for a moment so she'd get his point. The problem with having a super-smart boyfriend was that he always had a response for everything. "You're not going to not go to your dream school just because we won't be in the same place."

It only made her sob harder, tears streaming down her cheeks as her brain jumped to the other solution. "So this is it? We're breaking up?" Even saying the words made her mouth twist and stabbed at her heart. She really thought that she was going to be with him forever, and now it felt like her imagined future with him was crumbling in front of her while it should have been starting.

"What?" His face went ghost white at that, and his hands slid from her cheeks. They rarely even fought, and he didn't expect their relationship to end like this. "Love, is that what you want?"

"No." She cried even harder, lurching forward to tightly hug him. Spencer stood up, maneuvering her too so he could pull her tighter into his chest.

He held her like that for a minute, making sure she was okay before saying anything. "You don't wanna break up, and I don't wanna break up, so we won't. We can make this work, we have so far when everyone told us we wouldn't be able to." He assured her, pulling back to kiss her on the forehead when her tears has lessened.

"Are you sure?" She asked, looking for some truth in his eyes.

Like always, she found it. "Absolutely sure." He said determinedly. "I've never been more sure about something than I am sure about being with you."

"And you'll call me?" She asked, wrapping her arms back around his shoulder so she could hug him again. It suddenly felt like there was a finite amount of time they had together and she wanted to be as close to him as possible.

"Every single day." He assured her, trying to be strong for her even though he was scared to miss out on so much of her life.

All the little moments they had like when they sat together at lunch or walked through the hallway together were about to be gone, and it felt so much scarier than finishing high school. Growing up was so much scarier than she expected it to be when Spencer wasn't going to be right there.

It reassured her that things would be okay because it was Spencer, things were always going to be okay with Spencer. "And I'm still going to see you." He added. "Every Christmas, all summer, and visits whenever we can."

"Pinky promise." She requested, sticking out her pinky finger. Spencer interlocked his, kissing the side of her finger when she did the same thing to him.

"Okay, now, how excited are you?" He asked, knowing how eager she had been to apply and how much she wanted to get out of Vegas.

"So excited." She answered. "And we've got so much to shop for! And I hope you're ready to spend every single minute with me before we leave."

Spencer laughed at her first thoughts. "With nobody home, I feel like we should spend some quality time together." He offered, smirking at her.

She was already tugging him to her room before he needed to convince her further. "Yeah, I'll be calling you for that, too."

His hands were firmly planted on her cheeks as they stood in the middle of the room. "I'm going to miss you. Enormously. But 4 years, we'll have our degrees, and we can live in DC together."

It was something Y/n had told him she wanted when they were younger, fingers running over a map as they thought about the best place to be. But, honestly, anywhere was a perfect place to live if they were together.

"I know." She agreed, leaning forward to kiss him gently. "We'll be alright."

Four years didn't seem like a long time, the previous four years filled with falling in love seemed to have flown by, and the next four would as well.

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[rosepascal]

Miller's Bookstore | Bookstore owner!Joel x Single Mom!Reader

summary: Who knew that taking your daughter to a story time at a local bookstore could lead to meeting its handsome and slightly intimidating owner.

warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns and is called mommy. Joel is not as cold bc no outbreak. Mostly fluff!!

a/n: BOOKSTORE JOELLLLL he's clueless and cute and very very handsome. :))) Also Joel is about 36-37 here and Sarah is 14-15.

"Mommy Mommy!" Your daughters voice makes you smile as you see her running towards you. Her backpack flying behind her in her small hands. She crashes into your legs, hugging you tight with a wide smile on her face.

"What's got you so excited Anna?" She hands you a crumpled up flyer.

"Can we go! Please Please I'll eat all my veggies!" She begs and you laugh as you look at the flyer.

Miller's Bookstore was hosting story time on Saturday. You had heard of them before. A small family owned bookstore on the corner of Park and Main. From what you heard it was cute and cozy but unfortunately you never had the chance to stop by.

Much to Anna's dismay that is. She loved books, her little face would light up when she passed the window.

"Of course we can go!"

"Yes! Thanks Mommy!" The walk home was spent listening to Anna's day.

She babbled on and on about every little detail like how they learned about butterflies and caterpillars and how a boy named Mark talks too loud and gets in trouble a lot. You loved every second of it. Raising Anna by yourself hasn't been an easy task.

Trying to balance work and Anna was a challenge but you did everything you could to give her a good life. She's the happiest 8 year old and manages to put a smile on everyone's face, something you're incredibly proud of.

- - -

"Slow down Anna!" She tugs on your hand as the store gets closer and closer.

The braid in her hair that she just had to have is already coming loose as she bounces towards the store.

"Remember, be nice and quiet while the nice lady reads okay?" She nods and you open the door to the store.

The store really is cozy. The shelves reaches the ceilings, all of them filled with books. The big windows give a perfect natural light for the store. In the back corner of the store is where the kids section is. It's decorated with bright colors and lots of pillows and books.

A girl that appears to be in her teens is sitting on a stool holding a book. Anna looks back at you and silently pleads to go. Bending down you press a kiss to her forehead and send her off, promising that you'd stay in the store if she needed you.

Sighing you try and find a place to sit. The store isn't crowded but it is busy. Noticing the small tea and coffee bar you manage to find a seat and order a cup of tea.

As you wait you take notice of the people in the store. A few stressed out college students type away on their computer, a couple on a date who are sharing a book. You notice as more kids come in for story time just how many parents from Anna's school are showing up. They stand in the corner, whispering and giggling to themselves.

" 'Scuse me. This yours?" A deep, gruff voice takes you by complete surprise.

Whipping around your hand knocks the mug full of tea across the counter top and onto your other hand.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry." Looking up you see a very handsome man looking at you. His mouth drawn into a straight line.

You cower slightly at his unwavering gaze. Scrambling for napkins you start to mop up the tea. Embarrassment burns deep within you as you try not to look at him. He grabs the napkins and your hands causing you to still.

"Are you alright?" Confused you tilt your head slightly, unsure of what he's asking.

"Your hand, that tea was hot." Too wrapped up in your embarrassment you didn't even notice. Thankfully there was nothing besides some minor pain.

"I'm okay, I feel bad for spilling all over the counter though." He nods and takes the towel that is resting on his shoulder and cleans up the rest of the spill.

"Let me buy another one." You say as you pull out your wallet and hand him a 20. He looks at the bill and shakes his head He doesn't take it and something tells you this man isn't easily swayed.

"Can I at least get your name?" You ask. He glances up at you, smiling just a little bit.

"Joel, Joel Miller." Miller.

Oh. This is his bookstore! You must have looked shocked because he starts to chuckle at your expression.

"Never seen you around here before, you live here?" He asks, leaning his strong looking arms on the counter.

You nod look over to Anna who is absolutely soaking in every second of story time.

"I live just down the road, I'm really busy so I never have the time to stop in. But I'm really glad I did." You smile and clears his throat. The screaming kettle taking his attention away. He quickly fixes your cup and slides it over to you.

"Thanks," You want to talk to him more but his attention gets taken away by those same mothers you saw earlier.

As you silently sip on your tea you watch him work. He doesn't seem like the typical bookstore type if that makes any sense. He's strong and rugged and quite intimidating. He definitely doesn't even try to put on a façade for customer service but you like that. Sadly story time comes to an end. Walking over to the kids corner you find her chatting to the older girl.

"Mommy! This is Sarah! She read the book and she's really good at doing the voices." Anna's eyes shine when she looks at Sarah.

"It's really sweet for you to do this." You say to Sarah who smiles back. She holds out her hand and Anna high fives her.

"I love doing this, seeing how happy it makes the kids is everything. She says. You bid her goodbye and take Anna's hand. It's silly but you search for Joel as you walk towards the door, wanting to see him again.

"Mommy look out!" Anna says as you bump hard into what you think is a shelf. Holding out your hands you stumble back but a pair of strong hands catch you. As if you couldn't make more of an idiot of yourself, you had to run right into Joel.

"I uhh.." Your hands are still firmly on his chest. Standing up straight you move your hands to your side. Avoiding eye contact at all cost.

"You're pretty clumsy." He says and you feel yourself die a little.

"I'm really sorry Joel, I'll get out of your way now." Of course the one handsome man you've talked to thinks you're a fool.

"Wait!" Sarah calls out. She smiles and steps next to Joel.

"I apologize for my dad," She says and you look over at Joel who looks a little sheepish.

"We're having another story time next week! I'm sure Anna would love to come if you're interested." Anna looks up hopefully at you and you can't say no.

"We'll be there. I promise not to spill anything next time." You look towards Joel who only offers a nod.

"Say bye Anna,"

"Bye!" She waves goodbye and you leave the shop. Hoping that you haven't ruined anything yet.

"We aren't havin' story time next week." Joel says once the door shuts. Sarah shrugs and smirks.

"You can thank me later. Just try not to insult her next time."

- - -

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you get closer to Miller's Bookstore. Just don't spill anything and don't put your hands on Joel's incredibly broad and strong feeling chest.

Oh you were so going to blow it. Anna takes no time in running over to Sarah who welcomes her in a big hug. Joel is nowhere to be found and you try not to let your disappointment show.

"God Joel is so hot. I can't believe he's still single." Your ears perk up at the sound of his name.

You try not to listen as they go on and on about Joel but it's apparent that you aren't the only one who has taken an interest in him. Finding a cozy looking chair you sit down and close your eyes. Work had kept you up late last night and it's starting to take its toll.

"Look's like you could really use this." Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Joel's voice. Looking around you notice that Sarah had already finished reading and most of the kids had left.

"Anna!" You shoot out of your seat but Joel gently pushes you back down.

"She's okay, Sarah let her pick out a book and they're reading together." You look over to where he's pointing and see your daughter happily reading, a cookie in her hand.

"How long was I asleep?" You ask sheepishly. Joel hands you a warm cup of tea and sits next to you.

"Not that long, I didn't want to wake you." Sipping your tea you sigh and lean back in the chair.

"I was up till 3am last night. Anna had a nightmare and didn't want to sleep and then work called and apparently this stupid project couldn't wait till Monday."

"Sounds like a damn nightmare." Joel says and you agree.

"Her dad couldn't help?" He asks. You scoff and roll your eyes.

"That asshole left before she was even born. It's just me and Anna against the world." There's a hint of sadness in your voice but that's life. Anna is your world and you would do anything for her.

"I get it," He doesn't say anything more but you can assume he's in a similar situation to yours. From what those mothers said earlier you could guess that Sarah's mom was not in the picture.

"Well I should probably get going." You say, though you hesitate to actually get up.

Your phone has multiple notifications from your asshole boss asking you to do something that really isn't your problem. Joel nods and offers to take your cup. Getting up you go and find Anna and Sarah together.

"Anna baby, it's time to go." She pouts and holds a book to her chest.

"Please mommy can we stay a little longer. I just found this new book." She pleads and you wish you could stay.

"Keep it." Joel says as he walks over to the three of you.

"I can pay for the book it's no problem." You say but he refuses.

"You're too kind Joel." First the spilt tea and now the book. Joel just shrugs, missing the sigh from Sarah. Her dad really was hopeless sometimes.

"You know, I'm a real good babysitter if you're ever looking for one." Sarah pipes up.

"I might just take you up on that Sarah." Anna already loves Sarah and she seems responsible enough, plus she's Joels daughter.

"How about next Thursday? There's this great Italian place next door and my dad would love to take you." Sarah stares very pointedly at Joel who only sighs in reply.

"Would he now?" You ask playfully, silently hoping it was true.

"You don't have to say yes, but if you're interested I would love to take you to dinner." Joel doesn't get nervous. At least that's what he tells himself as he feels his hands begin to sweat.

"I would love to go to dinner with you Joel. Sarah you're welcome to babysit." Taking out your phone you exchange numbers with Sarah, trying to hide the smile that wants to break free. Joel walks you and Anna to the door, offering you a sweet smile as he opens the door for you.

"I'll see you Thursday darlin'" Butterflies swarm your stomach as you meet his eyes.

"It's a date." Biting your lip you wave goodbye, turning before he could see the pure happiness in your eyes.

"He's really nice." Anna says as she walks by your side. Holding onto the book that Joel gave her.

"Do you like him? You got really sweaty." She asks and you let out a small squeak.

"I do like him and I did not get really sweaty you silly girl." You squeeze her hand and she laughs.

"You did, but he did too. Does that mean you like each other!?" She asks excitedly.

You laugh and shake off her question. If only it was that simple. Picking her up and carrying her in your arms the rest of the way home.

Thursday couldn't come soon enough.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #bookstore joel #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction

[writingwhimsey]

All's Fair In Love & War- Nobunaga Ch. 14

Chapter 14

I was both surprised and not surprised when Ebisu pulled out the pistol and fired at me. I should have been more prepared for such an underhanded tactic from him. Luckily I did manage to turn, while I couldn’t avoid the bullet altogether, at least it only hit my shoulder knocking me back with the force and the shock.

Pain instantly wracked my shoulder as blood began to pour out of the wound. I had heard Nobunaga call out my name right before the shot happened, but I hadn’t been able to truly process that tidbit of information. I kind of had a bullet in my shoulder to focus on.

I heard the footsteps of my vassals rushing and disarming Ebisu and the others rushing to me. Though I pushed myself up, gripping my left shoulder with my right hand. I fixed Ebisu with a glare as he looked at me in complete shock. From the corner of my eye, I saw Nobunaga standing not far from me. I wasn’t sure why, but my next words were as much for him as they were for Ebisu.

“You think…I can be taken down…that easily?” I asked, a defiant smile on my face despite the pain I felt. I could feel the shock settling in and threatening to take me back down. But through sheet force of will, I stayed standing.

“W-what…” Ebisu stuttered as my men detained him.

“You will spend the rest of your days rotting in a cell.” I told him, my voice carrying all the authority I could muster. I would not let him or anyone see me as weak. I wanted him to know that he couldn’t take me down. “Living with your own humiliation.” It would be easy to call for capital punishment in this case, but I wouldn’t. That would be too easy for Ebisu. Living with the humiliation of his failed coup, that was his true punishment.

My men were taking him away and Nobunaga was approaching me. I could feel my body threatening to fall, but I stayed standing. I wouldn’t fall. I couldn’t. I didn’t need anyone worrying about me. I looked up at Nobunaga, putting a brave smile on my face as soon as I saw what looked like worry in his eyes. “Don’t tell me… you’re worried about this little shoulder wound?” I asked, though I could feel the sweat coating my body. I was hot and cold all over and my knees felt weak. The shock was truly setting in. I could feel my stomach roiling.

“It is still no small injury.” Nobunaga told me, his voice sounding on the verge of cracking. It seemed…. He was truly concerned for me.

“My lord, we really need to get you to the castle doctor.” Jiro informed me….or at least I thought it was Jiro. Everything was beginning to get a bit fuzzy and there was a buzzing in my head.

“I’ll be…fine.” I replied, even as I began to sway, my body threatening to send me topping over. I felt the world begin to tilt and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was going down. Black danced at the edge of my vision, threatening to envelop me.

That was when I felt two strong arms catch me. I looked up and found myself staring into Nobunaga’s handsome face. He looked his usual calm self, but his eyes…they held a frantic desperate light in them. It was as if the thought of my pain…of worse tore into his very soul.

“Stay awake, Ava.” He commanded, his voice so authoritative and yet…so desperate. It felt as if he thought he could command me live and keep the grim reaper at bay so long as he willed it. “You are not allowed to die, especially to such a coward.”

I was caught off guard by how he sounded, by the look in his eyes. Nobunaga and I were no strangers to seeing countless others die…and die by our own hands. Yet…it seemed as though for him the thought of my life being extinguished…caused him great pain. And…it may seem silly, but somehow his words brought me comfort in this moment. Brought me strength. A strength I didn’t think I would ever find from anyone else. A strength that allowed me to know my next words would be true.

“I…I won’t.” I told him and I knew it was true. As I had said before, I still have too much to do in this life…and one of those things was to see my feelings for Nobunaga through.

“Alright, come on this way.” Sato was saying and the next thing I knew Nobunaga was carrying me through the halls of my castle. 

Nobunaga was moving rather fast as if desperation moved him. It was as if I had to live. As if he needed me to live. I could practically feel his unease rolling off of him. I wanted to reassure him.

“I promise…I’m not going anywhere, Nobunaga.” I spoke and it wasn’t just me saying that I wouldn’t die. I was resolved to not only live, but to live and fight at his side. “This fire can’t be put out easily.” And I didn’t just mean myself…I meant the spark that I could feel between he and I.

Nobunaga smiled down at me, a confident smile. “You are indeed a fireball.” He told me, as if my words were sinking in. Though I could still sense his unease, it did seem it lessened a bit…or perhaps he was just better at hiding it.

We were soon arriving at the healer’s quarters and Nobunaga was lowering me onto a cot and stepping back to give the doctor and healers room to work. I didn’t have time to think, worry, or care as my top half was stripped and they began to clean and examine my wound.

“Good news, the bullet passed through.” The doctor said. “And though you’re bleeding quite a bit, I don’t see anything vital having been hit.”

They worked to stop the bleeding and got me cleaned and stitched up. It hurt like hell and I was suddenly missing modern medicine. But this was the life I had chosen and I wouldn’t back away from it. Once that was all done, they applied a poultice and bandaged me up before helping me into a loose robe.

“There. We’ll keep an eye on you through the night, but I believe you are going to make it through just fine, my lord.” the doctor told me.

I nodded. “Thank you.” I said, feeling tired.

“Get plenty of rest and drink plenty and eat well to get your strength back.” The doctor told me.

“I have plenty of strength.” I replied.

“That is not what I meant, my lord.” He said. “We’ll leave you to rest and we’ll send someone with food soon.”

“Thank you again.” I said.

The doctor and the healers were then exiting the room, though Nobunaga remained. He had never left. He came to sit at my bedside. “You are already looking much better.” He said. “How are you feeling?” He asked, his hand coming to stroke my cheek with the tenderest of touches.

I could feel his warmth suffuse me. “Like I’ve just been shot.” I answered. “And even though I am laying down, the room is still spinning.”

“You should rest.” He told me. “I will watch over you.”

I gave him what I hoped was a teasing smile as my eyes drifted closed. “I hope you know…I won’t be taken down by this. You heard the doctor, I will be fine.”

“Still, I will watch over you.” Nobunaga replied and then I felt his hand wrap around mine. “Rest well and recover quickly, fireball.”

I smiled. “I will…I do have a festival I must attend tomorrow.” I replied. “And… I would like for you to attend with me…I want you to be my…special guest…”

There seemed to be a pause from Nobunaga for a moment before he chuckled. “I will attend with you.” I then felt something warm and gentle brush against my forehead…was it his lips? “Rest well, Ava.” Was the last thing I heard before unconsciousness came for me.

Meanwhile in the hall…

As soon as the doctor and healers exited the room, they were greeted by Sato, Jiro, a few other of Ava’s men, and the remainder of the Oda warlords. All of them had various looks of concern on their faces.

“Is she going to be alright?” Jiro asked.

The doctor looked around before nodding. “Yes, with enough rest and plenty of food and water, I expect our lord to make a full recovery.” He answered.

Everyone seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief. The doctor and healers were soon taking their leave to finish up some other things while everyone else remained in the hall. “Is…Lord Nobunaga still in there?” Hideyoshi asked, looking around and noticing that his lord has still not come out.

“It would seem that way.” Jiro answered.

Sato was standing by the door to the healer’s room. She quietly slid it open just a crack so she could peek into the room. She saw Nobunaga kneeling beside the cot Ava rested on. The two were talking though what they were saying exactly she couldn’t quite hear nor were they at an angle where she could read their lips.

“Sato…are you spying on our lord?” Jiro asked.

“Just taking a peek to see how she looks.” Sato replied. “And don’t act like the rest of you aren’t curious as well.”

“I won’t hide it.” Masamune said as he made his way over to peek in as well. His blue eye went wide in surprise at what he was seeing. “I never thought I’d see the day…”

Though everyone else had been trying their best to hide their curiosity they no longer could. They were all moving and cramming themselves by the door to peek in. Nobunaga was looking at Ava and speaking to her, her eyes had closed, but she somehow managed a smile and her lips were moving in speech as well. No one could tell what they were saying…Hideyoshi was actually almost cursing the fact that Mitsuhide wasn’t there. That sneaky snake could definitely figure out what their lords were saying.

Nobunaga surprised them all as he took Ava’s hand in his and then a few moments later…he was leaning forward and kissing her on the forehead. It was clear to their vassals that Nobunaga and Ava were in love with each other.

Masamune was pulling away from the door. “Alright, I am going to go make some good food for the lass.” He declared. “We have to make sure she makes a full recovery.”

“Yes.” Hideyoshi agreed.

“I think Lord Ava would appreciate that.” Jiro said. “I know I appreciate your helping our lord.”

“Yes, thank you.” Sato agreed.

They were all in agreement that Ava and Nobunaga were good for each other, and they would do whatever they could to see to their health and happiness.

#ikemen sengoku nobunaga #ikesen nobunaga #nobunaga oda #nobunaga ikemen #nobunaga cybird #nobunaga otome #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen au #ikesen mc #ikesen oc #warlord ava #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #fanfic #cybird #otome boys #fanfiction #fanfic au

[atombonniebaby]

A little idea sprung to mind and I wrote a one shot!

Hope you enjoy (maybe you'll read this and you've heard this classic story us Scots like to spin 😅)

Also features a Mac headcanon and an original fallout themed pun for our boy to claim!

Content warning: Some mature themes and humour, so if your no over 18... Bolt 😘

(p.s I like this screenshot, so I recycled it 🤟)

A Scotsman never tells...

 "Like a Mole Rat, the size of a cat?" MacCready repeats with a frown, waving his hand through the smoky air. 

The Boss' hands dance around, telling his story in a way only he can, and damn it, if his eyes don't sparkle in the dim light of the Third Rail's VIP room, and MacCready reminded himself he oughtta never play cards with the man.

Mac slowly chuckles, boots up on the coffee table, cigarette smoldering between his fingers. "I call brahmincrap," he argues, furrowing his brows. "I mean, I've seen some wacko creatures in the Wastes, but no way in heck there are creatures out there that could have lasted this long with such sparse action in the sheets—I mean, if it weren't for Duncan, the MacCready line would be headin' for extinction—one chance a year?” he scoffs. "No way a species would survive with those odds!”

Nate just chuckles, sipping his Scotch. "Well, those wee buggers have the bonus eh decent dental, son," he smirks with a wink. "Soon as they find their darlin', they're set for life."

That stings a bit. "Watch it, old man, keep yappin', and you'll be feasting on Blamco and beans for the rest of your days—"

The bastard raises his hands defensively, smirking. "Alright, alright. Simmer doon—just dinny forget to snag yersel' a toothbrush next we're in Diamond City— or else it'll be you choking doon canned goods."

"Goddamn it, I brush my teeth! Twice a day!" he bristles, tongue proddin' the crevices in his mouth. "Ain't my fault some teeth never bothered to show."

Nate's eyes soften. "Aye?"

"Had Rickets as a kid...one of the perks of living in a cave, I s'pose," he shrugs. "Lucy managed to work out a treatment for the 'Littles,' by then, the damage had been done." He sighed, fingers picking at the frayed armrest. "I mean, I do alright now—cold weather can be tricky, old injuries hurt like heck, and I always gotta work hard to keep my knees from knocking," MacCready tried a laugh. "I'm mostly pissed because Lucy always reckoned I should've been taller."

"Ach, just makes it easier for ye tae hide in tight spaces, lad."

His lips were curling before he could even get the words out. "Dunno about that, boss. You of all people should know the difference a few inches can make."

Nate scoffs, doing his best to look offended, but there's almost a hint of pride in those eyes before he's shaking his head. "Damn—Rickets, Mac? No wonder you tire out quick, lad...Ye're needin' to cook more, eat some red meat, get some dairy in ye...and lose the hat and layers when ye can, get some sun on your skin...You'll be at more risk of it coming back."

He can't help but laugh. "What, so if I start chowing down on Brahmin and Radstag and soak up the rays, I'll morph into some tall, dark, handsome stranger?"

Nate grins, swirling his Scotch, "Take it easy, it's not a magic potion, Rob—actually, Haggis might be great for your diet," he chimes, changing the subject, like he always does when they get off track. 

"Haggis? What the heck are you on about now?" Mac chuckles, ashing his cigarette. 

The animated Scott explains further. The Haggis—or 'Haggi,' plural—those critters he'd been yammering about—have longer legs on one side of their 'dumpy' bodies—means they can only scoot around the hills in one direction. It’s a one-shot deal: find a mate or wait another year for some action. 

"Sounds like a crock of—" 

"Hold on," he interrupts, a smile on his lips. "In Scotland, it was tradition for families to hunt a haggis, fatten it up, and serve it on Rabbie Burns Night, wi' some neeps and tatties..."

"Rabbie, who now?" He raises an eyebrow. "The frick are 'neeps'?” he guessed 'tatties' was just his the idiot pronounced 'tatos.'

"Rabbie Burns," he chuckles. "Famous Scottish poet. You need to broaden your literary horizons, MacCready." His laughter fades as he continues, "And a 'neep' is a turnip."

MacCready opened his mouth, about to ask the boss to further define 'turnip,' before he was cut off.

"My sister El, she would break her heart every year. Took her forever to accept that we had to cook up her wee pal."

As much as he tries to believe—this tall tale about haggis sounds as believable as a three-headed Radstag. "I still don't buy it," he scoffs, trying to suppress his grin. "You're pulling my leg. If these things are real, I'll eat my hat."

The idiot just laughs, downing the last of his Scotch. "Would ye prefer a tell ye' it's a bunch eh mushed up innards, mixed wi oats and cooked in an animal's stomach?"

"I think I'm gonna be sick—”

His guts were turnin'. He took a deep breath to calm it. He's shaking his head, grinning despite himself. "Well, if it's anythin' like molerat, it'll just burrow a hole through my caps stash...I'll stick to Radstag, surprisingly not as dear..."

Nate let out a wavering groan as he tried to suppress a laugh. "You're a wee arse, lad. Dang sense eh humor eh yours is dire."

"Yeah-yeah, believe what you want...you're clearly at home with your delusions—they're entertaining, at least."

He takes a victory drag from his cigarette, leans back, and watches Nate's eyes dance as he delves into another tall tale about some sea monster.

Despite his skepticism, Nate's tales offer a rare glimpse into a world beyond the Wastes. So he listens, the taste of stale smoke on his tongue and a story spinning out before him.

He realizes this—this is as close a guy like him could get to what he always envisioned it would be like, to grow up with a father—lulled to sleep with a late-night tale about Wasteland beasts and heroic adventures.

The dad he couldn't wait to be.

Yay, found family 🥰

#We always named our pet haggis Dougal #Sun you say? I know not of this glowing globe of fire in the sky #Gotta keep that Vitiman D topped up! The bone aches are real #Haggis Hunting #fallout maccready #fallout 4 #fo4 #maccready #fallout #fo4 maccready #robert joseph maccready #rj maccready #fallout companions #robert maccready #fallout fanfic #fallout fic #Forever pasty #Fallout one shot #fallout duncan #fo4 duncan #fallout nate #fallout headcanons