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dreamauri · 3 days

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♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part two max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”

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“Come on, you can’t say he has so much potential!” Max miserably tried to hold in his laughs as you continued your rant about how much better Max would look if he put a little more effort or thought in how he dressed.

“I’m honestly starting to think he’s allergic to wearing anything . . . not Red Bull related. Like even in his streams! In his home!”

Sitting in front of his laptop with a makeshift setup in the hotel room in Japan, Max found himself unwinding from the earlier media day when he gladly accepted to join you for a game of Fifa. It wasn’t until someone brought up Lewis’ outfit from this morning did you start your little ted talk.

“La, please concentrate on the game, we’re losing!” he couldn’t stop laughing either so your team was toast either way.

“No, because I bet he's wearing his Red Bull shirt right now wherever he is.”

The reason why Max was no longer able to hold it together was because he was indeed in a Red Bull shirt. He might actually take you up on being allergic to anything not associated with Red Bull.

“I’ll gladly design a few outfits for him, I swear!”

“La-” Max put his face in his hands, shoulders shaking from laughter as his screen showed the opposing team scoring a goal. The dutch would usually feel frustrated if he were to be losing a Fifa game in any other situation, but not this one with you.

He's ready to lose and lose again, even give up his title as one of the world's top twenty Fifa players if he gets to spend time with you like this, laughing and joking; forgetting the world around, so it's just you and him.

Just two people . . . being people.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Since I have no one to show, you're stuck with me.”

It’s kind of been a routine now, having a private call after a game or upon finding spare time. You two have gotten close. You even considered “amilian” to be a close friend, per say. A close friend who you regularly vent to about work or just randomly ask riddles or dad jokes to bother.

You enjoyed his company. He was a fun person to be around. He made you feel . . . yellow in a type of way too. You never felt left out or unheard. He always had time for you, it's like you were maybe gravitating to being more than close friends . . . it's not like you can do anything about it though.

Surely people make close friends online all the time.

You stay up on your couch, scrolling through the settings of your laptop to show and rant despite having to get up in the morning. Max crossed his legs on his chair folding his arms and watching the screen as you messed around on your shared screen.

“La, it’s late.” He’s been trying to tell you for the past 10 minutes. It’s 6:30 in Japan, 7 hours ahead of the time in Paris, where you were.

Not that he’s keeping track of the time where you were, it’s just that you shared the same time zone as Monaco, and he only had the GMT+2 clock displayed on his home screen because he needed to keep track of his cats . . . not too make sure you got enough sleep or anything of that sort.

“It's only 11:30,” you shushed, pulling up pinterest. Max hung his head, trying to hold in his smile. “I could put together a whole outfit that would suit him right here and now,”

“La,” Max giggled watching you actually start to search and put things together. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you go to sleep, I'll try to get Max Verstappen in baggy jeans,”

“WHAT?!” the blond flinched at the loud noise, looking around his hotel room to make sure no one heard anything -- despite him being alone.

“You know I work in F1 right?” Max followed up, trying to hold in his smile at your silence. “La, you forgot?!”

“I’m sorry!” you pleaded, holding your hands in a begging motion despite him not seeing anything.

Max put his hand on his chest and pretended to be offended when he was smiling really wide to the point his cheeks hurt. “My best friend doesn't know what I do for a living,” he gushed in fake hurt.

Your mind blanked at the title. Best friend?

“You do know what my job is, right, La?”

“. . .” You looked away embarrassed, you’ve known the guy for how long and don’t even know what his profession is.

Max couldn’t stop his giggles. “Go to bed, La. I’ll get Max in baggy jeans for you.”

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey um, million?”

“I thought I told you to go to bed?” Max chuckled, crouched in front of his suitcase, digging through it in hopes to find a pair of baggy jeans or a white shirt that he probably doesn't own.

“I am in bed technically . . .” The blond looked over to his laptop on his desk, the call still going. “You work in F1,” Max felt his heart jump in anxiety for a second, there's no way you figured him out.

“Yeah?”

“Well um . . . my boss chose me to go see how things were going with McLaren at the Monaco gp,”

The dutch perked up at your announcement. “Really? That's great!”

“Y-Yeah, it is,” you stuttered, agreeing. you crossed your arms, looking at the email congratulating you on your phone screen. “I mean, I'm glad, this is an experience of a lifetime. I get to drag along a few interns with me as well.” Max frowned, your tone did not match with the news you were announcing.

“What's wrong?” He got up, sitting on the desk chair, looking at your profile picture, the concern was clear in voice, as if you could feel him sitting beside you on your bed and gently rubbing your back to comfort you.

“Well, I don't have anyone to go with - the interns don't count . . . and I don't know anyone in Monaco or the attendees-- except you technically . . . I haven’t been on my own for that long before,” you sighed.

Max furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher what you were asking of him.

“Is it-” you cut yourself of with a sigh. “Can I hang out with you sometime? During the weekend?” Max stayed silent, feeling his heart pounding to the point he was scared the organ would explode out of his chest.

“I mean,” Max cleared his throat to hide the crack in his voice that arose from the anxiety he was drowning in. “I’m not traveling with the team every weekend, so I'm not sure if I'm going to be in Monaco . . . I’ll have to ask my boss.” he replied quietly and slowly, trying to comfort you still. “There’s still a few weeks before Monaco, so . . . I don’t know for sure.” He whispered, scratching the back of his head.

He was digging himself a grave. Asking Horner if he’s going to be in Monaco when he is the driver and already lives in Monaco? It’s too late now to be honest about who he is, he dug this hole himself and now he’s stuck in it.

It’s not like he can be like ‘oh, yeah of course you can hang out with me. Oh, I’m Max Verstappen by the way, the guy who’s driving the best car and winning all the races, so I can get you VIP tickets and a hot lap too if you want.’

“I’ll try my best to be there,” the blond whispered. You could almost feel him brushing your hair comfortingly. “We can get ice cream or go sightseeing. I know this really good cafe you’ll like . . .” Max will just have to keep digging his hole.

proof reading credits to the lovely and amazing @classiclitfreak <3

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melbatron5000 · 3 days

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The Big Damn Kiss

Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.

This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.

I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.

DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!

Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?

Ahem.

Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.

I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)

Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:

And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:

And the next:

And our last Clue:

With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies.

Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:

One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.

Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?

So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.

Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.

Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!

Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.

I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.

I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:

(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)

My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.

Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.

(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)

What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?

A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?

Oh yes.

Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.

Here's Aziraphale reading the records:

Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:

And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:

That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.

That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.

#good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #good omens meta #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens analysis #good omens fan theory #ineffable mystery #aziraphale elevator #corporate heaven #the big damn kiss #the kiss #good omens muriel #good omens gabriel #good omens beelzebub

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bunny584 · 2 days

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For I Have Sinned ୨୧ Chapter II

“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.” Songs of Solomon 8:6-7.

As newly appointed Duchess-To-Be, you have much to learn. Etiquette, conduct and eventual motherhood are the pillars you are expected to live by. Because who cares about your choosing?

The Chapel, tended to by a mercurial Priest, is the perfect refuge.

…right?

Pairing: Geto x female reader

A/N: The is dedicated to the artist ( @captainsalsaa ) I mean look at our fallen Angel. His tears. His frustration. Dear GOD.

To the artist: I stared at your piece, then heard a specific song on my writing playlist then wrote the entire last scene in one sitting. To date, it’s my favorite scene in my author’s portfolio. I hope I did our fallen Angel justice. Thank you for creating this 🤍

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CHAPTER II: Hello, Father.

“Awake early, little dove.”

Warm hands caress your shoulders. A welcome contrast to the chilly nautical dawn. The sun still has a ways to go, but songbirds have begun their wake up call.

“As are you, Arella.”

Your eyes float to your favorite maiden standing above you. No more than a handful of years older, but with a heart for you as if she raised you from birth.

“It’s my duty to tend to you, is it not?”

Soft laughter harmonizes with the nightingales. A quick kiss on your forehead before her warmth disappears off the balcony — undoubtedly to go retrieve a treat of some kind.

She’s not wrong.

Technically it is her duty.

But Arella is your blessing.

Matting and kneading your surroundings to fit your needs. Eager to dampen the growing pains of settling in a new home.

Constant hellos.

Permanent smiles.

Not too wide, like a promiscuous woman. But not too tight, like a cold prude.

Rooms to tour. Hands to shake. Garments to pin and tie and lace around your lungs as if your God-given ribcage was a frivolous extra not needed for life. Not needed to breathe.

Breathe.

Your lids screw shut. Pulling in as much of the balmy, saltwater breeze gliding up the steep rock face along the overhang.

Much like he did.

The Chaplain.

His hair cascading down his back in the same way poets monologue when inspired. His eyes a mural of what the Gods paint when they want to show off.

The way earth acquiesces to his touch as if he is the Creator. The birds choose to perform for him every morning. And the ocean exists to bathe him.

You cannot decide if the sorbet sunsets are created by the Chaplain. Or if the Gods fight over who gets the honor of painting him a new one each evening.

“Sleep still escapes you, precious girl.”

It does, but not for the reason she thinks.

“You worry too much, Arella. I’ll adjust soon.” The tea she brought you is delicious.

The both of you cross back into your quarters. The stagnant, perfumed air suddenly suffocating.

“I would like to go to the chapel garden.”

A quiet declaration that stills your handmaiden in her tracks. Then a small grin blossoms on her beautiful face. Fussing with your bedding. Wiping away evidence of your sleepless night.

“For the flowers that bloom, little dove? Or for the God that tends to them?”

The blood in your veins runs subzero.

“Arella! I am engaged to be marri—“

“Of course you are. But eyesight isn’t a sin.”

Another moment of feigned irritation before you burst into a fit of childish giggles. The both of you no better than school girls, covering your mouths, stifling your laughter.

“I just wanted to see you smile.” Arella gestures to your extravagant dresser across the room.

“In the second drawer you can find a casual garment. Come back with at least one hour to prepare for Mass.”

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

A hummingbird chaperones your walk to the church estate. Dulcet hums drown out the rattling heartbeat between your ears.

This is harmless.

It is not a sin to take in Earth’s natural candy. To appreciate God’s gift to humanity.

In all of his majestic glory.

Your eyes dart around as if your thoughts are a tangible scroll. Written in ink for the world to see.

Don’t be ridiculous, there’s no one around.

Just you. Your fluttering companions (both heart and bird). The waking sun. God above and his plants swaying in the gentle gusts of wind. You’re safe in your mind.

Until he decimates all logical and reasonable train of thought, that is.

You should be angry. Infuriated. That no one adequately prepared you for seeing the demigod for the first time. Even now, you question whether he’s flesh and blood.

Maybe an illusion?

The Lord playing tricks from his throne?

The mirage before you halts your paces. You can’t help but question your level consciousness.

Because this must be a dream.

“Oh, don’t be cruel.”

Words slip out of your mouth, currently ajar. It’s not your place to chastise the One above, but come on.

Your eyes taste the Chaplain for a second time and this course is even more decadent than the first.

There he stands.

A raven waterfall down his broad, muscular back. Half of it tied away from his face. Olive skin so rich the surrounding plants pale in comparison. Russet brown working pants hang loose around his tapered waist, but snug around his thighs. Various tools hooked in the belt loops. Heavy mahogany work boots match the worn leather gardening gloves fitted to his hands.

His hands.

Reaching for thorny vines plaguing his hydrangeas. Even at your distance you could detail each muscle fiber in his arm tense and release with every pull and toss.

Pull and toss.

You would have gotten lost in his rhythmic trance, if it weren’t for the symbol branded in charcoal sprawling his back. The emblem peeks through his thick hair, every now and again.

A spear?

No.

A trident. With waves snaking up its stalk along his spine.

His gravitational pull is overwhelming. Your feet move with more stealth than the King’s Guard.

“Working on the Day of Rest, Father?” Casual, measured.

“Duchess,” Saliva pools in your mouth. His smile teases your ears before he graces you with it.

“I have to start being more careful about my clothing.” A playful glint in his eyes.

“Especially now that I’ve been blessed with a fellow greenskeeper.”

He is a man of God.

And would never insinuate anything impure.

But that doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around his words steeped in a baritone potent enough to rumble the ground beneath you.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve sent word that I was coming.”

“This palace belongs to you, Duchess. You are welcome here at any hour.” His hand captures a vine and tosses it into the pile without his eyes ever leaving yours.

You are weak.

And greedy.

The way your gaze drops to his arm. Desperately etching its contours into memory. Seconds, maybe minutes pass before you realize you were gawking. And the Chaplain just let you.

Head cocked to the side. Soft smile ghosting his full lips.

“Would you like to finish the tour of your new playground?”

“Y-yes. Of course, please.” Stumbling over the uneven cobblestone in your voice, you turn away to begin the coordinated stroll. The Priest slides his arms into a linen button up. Lazily fastening two center buttons only.

He informs you of the work that has already been done, what’s left. Where the soil is richest, where it is the most acidic. How the sun hits certain flowers at each hour of the day.

Brilliant.

With complete command over God’s bouquet. The sun following him wherever he steps.

“Did you enjoy your swim today, Father?” Both you and the Priest come to a slow stop. One of his angular eyebrows raised.

“I’m dry, Duchess.” He responds with a low, hypnotic chuckle.

Heat floods your cheeks. How could you be so presumptuous?

“What gave me away?”

Your knees nearly betray you. The razor sharp grin on his face could cut glass.

“You were born for the ocean. Or rather, the ocean was born for you.”

Your statement is greeted with blaring silence.

Lava in his gaze. Singeing every part of your face it touches. His expression is like a foreign language.

“I—I’ve overstepped, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. Clearly I have much to learn about social graces.” A meek apology bubbles out of your lips. Desperate to fill the space between your bodies.

The mercurial man shakes his head slightly. Thawed out from your statement, he reaches over and plucks a stray lilac petal resting on your crown.

“My father used to say the same.” He muses, looking away for the first time.

“Your father! Is he—“

“He was called home some time ago.” This smile is soft. Reminiscent. Polite, but his mind clearly elsewhere.

“Oh Father Geto, I’m so sorry.”

A foot in your mouth is not enough punishment for your indecency. Why would you go prodding like this?

“Don’t be, I’ll see him again. Soon enough.”

“Not too soon, I hope.” The statement draws a stunned gaze from the Chaplain. Eyes dancing between yours.

“Time to prepare for mass, little dove!” Arella’s melodic call tethers you back down from outer space.

You flicker over to her with a ruby dusting over your nose and cheeks. Like a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar before supper.

“Happy Sunday, Father!” Arella calls out, cheshire grin on her face deepening your crude blush.

“Indeed, Arella.” He returns the greeting while keeping his eyes on you.

“Send my regards to the Duke.” His voice lowers, for your ears only. With a nearly imperceptible edge to his tone.

“Happy Sunday, Duchess. We have a counseling session scheduled late afternoon, yes?”

A statement of pure black and white fact. And yet it travels down your spine and settles between your legs. Wet heat dampening your thin negligee.

“Yes, Father. Happy Sunday.”

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Mass was miserable.

Your corset laced tight enough to meld your two lungs and beating heart into one entity. To say the neckline strangled you is putting it mildly. Cold, uninviting pews dug into your skin at every turn.

Wretched.

But the worst of it wasn’t the thin, oxygen-deficient air. Or the shards of glass that slid down your throat with every swallow. Even the jaw pain from tensing your lips in a well-mannered smile for two hours straight was tolerable.

The worst part of it was him.

The Priest mesmerized an entire congregation to an ear-splitting hush.

His first Sunday mass since appointment and nearly everyone in the country and every surrounding province stuffed into the chapel.

So desperate for blessings from Father Geto.

Could you blame them?

His voice danced in and out of the pews listlessly.

Soothing fussy children. Adolescent girls and their mother’s alike — utterly smitten. Adolescent boys experienced their first “I want to be like him” with their fathers sitting right next to them. Husbands glanced feverishly at the women in their lives.

He had to have noticed it. And yet, he floated above it all the entire service.

Above you.

Refusing to gift you those eyes that put Vincent Van Gogh to shame. No matter how much you shifted in your seat and straightened your spine.

The Priest spoke to everyone in the room but you.

Did you read him wrong?

Did you misinterpret your budding friendship?

Does it…should it even matter?

Your irritation is palpable. Innocent bystanders are caught in your friendly fire. Including Arella, who changed you out of that horrid costume. And sweet Noel, who ushered you into the seating area — just outside of the good Father’s office.

You make a mental note to send treats to the tender-hearted alter boy. And to apologize profusely to your handmaiden.

“You are a million miles away, darling.” The sound of your betrothed tows you out of the storm clouds.

You flicker over to the Duke. Emerald green eyes, high cheek bones — handsome in a way that is characteristic of everyone native to your new home.

“I’m right here, Ezra.”

“Are you, sweetheart?” The back of his hand caresses your cheek.

“Mmhm.” You offer your future husband a weak smile and kiss on his cheek. His eyes faltering slightly, undoubtedly hopeful for lips instead.

“Good afternoon, Duke and Duchess Ahriman.”

Father Geto’s velvet greeting encases you both. If Ezra’s arm didn’t guide you to stand you would have been paralyzed in your seat.

“Father Geto, a pleasure. Thank you for seeing us.” Ezra offers a genuine smile and handshake. Buying you a few extra seconds in your mind’s safe haven.

The Chaplain is tight lipped. Professional. He returns the handshake firmly.

“Pleasure is mine.”

Ezra shifts slightly on his feet. Straightening his spine and dropping his shoulders. Your eyes bounce between the Chaplain and your fiancé.

“I must say, Father. You are even more handsome up close. I speak for the men in this country, thank you for taking the vow of celibacy!” The words spill out of the Duke. Unknowingly thinning the air.

The Priest chuckles quietly, dropping his eyes briefly before landing them on you. And it feels like you could double over. Your core temperature skyrockets under his smoldering gaze.

He, the archer. You, the bullseye.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

Ezra laces his fingers in yours, taking the two seats directly in front of the oak desk. A leather bound notebook and pheasant feather pen are neatly arranged — with your names on the first page.

Blue flame rises from your toes to hairline. You might as well have been sitting naked. With how exposed, how vulnerable you feel already.

“What will we be covering first, Father? Something about how wives should obey their husbands, right?” Ezra is light-hearted. Meant to be said in jest.

But he finds himself being the only party in the room laughing.

The Priest rolls the ink pen between his fingers. Allowing a deafening silence to coat the walls. His expression is neutral, but eyes ablaze.

“If the man in question is worthy of submission.” He starts. A low, ominous rumble.

“Uh, yes. Of course.” Ezra responds, shifting in his seat.

But the Chaplain does not stop. Intent on making a point, he leans in. Pen whirling lightning fast between his long, deft fingers. Enough tailwind to launch across the room, if he desired.

“If the man in question would give his life for his wife.” Volcanic eyes linger on you, then back to your fiancé. Ezra’s palm finds your thigh. You gnaw on your inner cheek to avoid flinching away.

“If he would love her like Christ loves all of his creations unconditionally. Unselfishly. Irrationally.”

“Yes, Father. I understand.”

“Only then, should she submit.” His serrated tone could split chromium with ease.

“Of course, of course.” Ezra wisely accepts defeat.

He presses a short kiss on your cheek as an apology that you didn’t ask for, nor do you want.

“Mmm.” A forced acknowledgment of the Duke’s affection through your pinched lips. Barely able to move under the Father’s microscopic gaze.

“Now then,” Father Geto clears the boulders in his throat.

“Tell me about your love.”

The question stuns both you and the Duke. Looking to each other sheepishly because neither of you chose this.

War is young men dying and old men talking. And your life path is no different. Dictated by conversations between the powers that be.

“We’ve only met a week ago, Father.” Your honesty drives both of his eyebrows upward.

“A week ago?”

“But we are hoping you can teach us.” The Duke, overeager and excitable.

“Teach you…?” Father Geto muses. You can’t quite interpret his tone, or minimal response. But your heart flutters all the same.

He is thinking something. And what you would give to get a glance. To be let in.

“Perhaps guide us?” Ezra gives an unintentionally painful squeeze on your thigh. You fail to muffle the tiny whimper.

The Priest’s eyes laser down to where your fiancé’s hand lays. Chest rising and falling dangerously slow.

“Right.”

Your eyes trail upwards as he stands. Closer to God than to you from this point of view.

“Duke, Duchess. You’ll have to accept my sincerest apologies.”

His fingers dip the unused pen back into the ink cup. The edges of his leather bound notebook coming together. Seemingly without any notes, but an entire script from this session swirling in his mind.

“My schedule is incorrect. I have another commitment. We will reschedule, yes?” Said with a finality that sends chills crawling down your spine.

The two of you stand. Another handshake between the men. A restrained nod for you.

Just as quickly as you were let in, Father Geto shuts you out of his office and his mind.

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Suguru presses his forehead against the shower tile. Warm water raining down his loose mane. Soothing his sore, overworked limbs.

Today was maddening.

He nearly destroyed his vestment the minute that God-forsaken counseling session ended. Seeking refuge, he took to the coast.

And the sea provided anything but peace.

She was angry with him, tonight.

Curt. With unpredictable currents. Rip tides at nearly every turn. She tested his adaptation without mercy.

Just like that night.

“I’m going to stay on board, brother!”

Suguru flickered over to the silver-haired deckhand. An unfamiliar reservation opacifying his nearly translucent, iridescent eyes.

Brother in name, technically.

Their bloodlines were oil and water. He was a high born. Suguru was born unworthy of a beggar’s pity.

But, bloodlines were inconsequential when their souls were instep as one. Both handed to humanity on the same night. During a thunderstorm already inscribed in history books.

‘The Tide of Eternal Requiem.’

It brought complete devastation. Crops destroyed. Families torn apart by tragic accidents inland and at sea.

Then fate struck.

Within the same hour, a voltaic boy, with a halo that put the clouds to shame and diamond eyes that could draw truth from murderers was born into the loving embrace of his parents.

And Suguru was born with a crown so dark that the raging midnight appeared bright.

With eyes as ominous as the sky above.

Gunmetal grey, accented by an eerie violet swarm. Dormant volcanoes, threatening eruption. His birth mother abandoned him in an alley. Driven by fear that he was a bad omen from the Gods.

“Ahhh, Satoru come on. Since when do you shy away from a few waves?”

Suguru teased. Already well into the process of shedding his work gear.

“Zeus is the one rumored to be my father.” His counterpart flashed a knowing smile.

“Poseidon doesn’t watch over me like he does you, Suguru.”

A tsunami couldn’t keep Suguru from his home. Much less a little rain.

They were 3 miles away from the shoreline. Using his God-given ability, Suguru regularly acted as their scout. Performing his own reconnaissance then alerting the incoming ship of safe or turbulent terrain.

“Almost ready to go, son?”

His chosen father came up behind him. Suguru knew there were tears lining his meek eyes before turning to face him.

“Dad.” Suguru sighed, fully disrobed now. Just his muscular frame and a compression suit.

He met his father’s concerned gaze. Always like this during sea storms. Quiet prayers written all over his gentle features.

Despite the worry, he never once attempted to convince his oceanic boy to stay on board. It would have been too cruel.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve traversed angrier swells.”

“Suguru, take care of yourself when I’m gone.”

Elder, worn hands landed on his shoulders. Nearly too high for his reach. Suguru cocked his head to the side.

This goodbye was different.

“Stay on this path. For me. Albeit straight and narrow, there is a wonderful view. This is all for you, son.”

Both men glanced to the Persian gulf. She thrashed against their vessel. Swaying their catch left and right with the intention of taking her creatures back.

“Where is this coming from?” A genuine question from his younger self. Unable to read between the lines.

“Can’t a man just speak from the heart?”

The melancholy smile didn’t meet the wrinkles of time decorating his eyes, but they shared a laugh anyway. Suguru turned away but was promptly drawn back.

“My beautiful boy.”

The fisherman cradled his son’s face. Swimming in the eyes that Suguru once hated. The eyes that convinced his birth mother to abandon him.

“Make it to shore, son.” Suguru rested his head against his father’s neck. Taking a slow, sweet drag of his scent.

Oak.

He always smelled like oak. It was one of Suguru’s favorite things about him.

“If Poseidon calls—“

“I’ll tell him to fuck off.” Mischievous grin plastered on Suguru’s face. His father planted a kiss on his cheek, pushing him towards the end of the boat. As he always did.

Then the Gulf wrapped him in her hostile embrace.

She was irate.

Vicious tidal waves. Rapidly shifting currents. Even her creatures knew to settle below their usual depth. Suguru cursed the fact that he was born with useless, human lungs. Unable to withstand the pressure of the Midnight Zone.

Within minutes his long, lean frame was riding her whims without a shred of control. Tossed around like a rag doll. At her complete mercy — or lack thereof.

This was the first time he struggled to tame his element. A muffled groan bubbled around him. Serrated edges of long coral stalks dug into his back. Stark white foam whirled around him.

Aerated waters.

Suguru could barely maneuver against the waves pummeling his core. Searing heat traveling up his spine. His lungs demanded oxygen.

The boat.

The boat would never make it to shore.

Desperate, furious strokes of his arms meant nothing against her unrelenting grasp. Effectively pinning Suguru to his underwater cross.

A piece of chewed plank wood whizzed by his face.

Followed by another.

Then another.

And Suguru watched his nightmare materialize before his eyes. Mustering his last oxygen reserve, he bellowed against his closed lips.

As if she hadn’t already ignored the cries of his fellow fisherman.

Even still, he screamed so loud his ribcage should have vaporized. But ushering him to a watery grave at that time would have been too merciful.

Suguru blinks out of the harrowing memory. The steeping tea takes at least two layers of epithelium off his esophagus.

Fucking, hell.

He can’t seem to escape pain today.

The swim was excruciating.

Mass was dreadful.

Watching that boy’s hand lay on your lap was grating.

Suguru’s mind drifts back to you. Your thought washes over him like baptizing waters purifying that which is impure.

The gleam in your eyes when you asked about his morning plunge. Barely a week and your pulse on him is already this precise.

Do not covet, Suguru.

He scoffs to himself. Shaking free of your tempting spiral.

This ‘straight and narrow’ path is proving to be more challenging than he let on.

“Would you be proud, Father?”

A whisper of accusation at the end of his inquiry. Suguru would give his arms, his eyes…his life to hear his father’s voice on the other end of his questions, once again.

“Did He tell you?”

Roaring silence. Of course. He knows that. He expects it.

But it angers him all the same.

“Did He come to you in a dream??” Suguru echos louder. More frantic. Punched out in a way he can barely recognize.

“Was the reaper at His left, my heart on the right?!” A weak sob slips through the crack in his baritone.

Yet another pain. But this one is tart and blurring his vision.

“Did you KNOW? D—did you know that day was your last?!” He hisses through a salty stream. Storming out to the garden to escape the walls collapsing in on him.

Suguru’s eyes laser to the remaining thorny vines along his bed of hydrangeas. Without a second thought he wraps them around his bare arms. Staining the plant and his freshly bathed skin with crystalline tears. Once its thorns sufficiently bury into his skin he rips it away from the soil with all his might.

“Bastard. I’m your SON.”

Warm metallic drips down the hills and ridges of his arms. Collecting in the flower bed.

Is he cursing his earthly father?

His Heavenly One?

Or the Deity that brought this grief on him in the first place?

It hurts.

An unforgiving pain.

Much like the thorns in those rapids. Much like the inconceivable burn from his lungs begging for expanse. The time limit, even for him, ran lethally low.

Well exceeding his father’s time limit.

Poseidon stole from him that day.

A callous trade for Suguru’s continued existence.

“Why didn’t you…I—I should’ve been there.”

Guilt eviscerates Suguru’s remaining resolve. Tilting his head up, he lets the salty crystals rain down his cheeks freely.

The full moon cradles his face with the same warmth, the same adoration his father’s hands used to.

Suguru accepts its celestial kisses for a moment before burying his face into his bloodied palms. His damp locks curtain his flushed face. Protecting the world from his unruly sobs.

“I’m here.” Barely audible words escape through desperate grabs for air.

“I made it to shore, Dad.”

E/N: Oh hello, don’t mind me just sobbing. Also, guest appearance by our glorious Blue Eyed Babygirl King™️ If you need me, I will be in witness protection before Gege finds this since it’s a crime to be a S*toru lover.

taglist: @blkkizzat @rotteneyess

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wolfish-trickster · 1 day

Text

You made your choice

Gojo x fem!reader

Part 2

Previous part

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: you asked Gojo who is more important to him, you or his bestfriend. He indirectly chose and now he's experiencing consequences of his own action (probably for the first time in his life).

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @nanao4k

A/N: I recomend listening to this song while reading (was listening to it while coming up with the story, the song and the story aren't exact copies of eachother but the vibe is about the same) and to those who know me THE LINK IS SAFE TO CLICK I DIDN'T LINK IT WITH WHAT YOU THINK I SWEAR. Enjoy the reading 😊

"Hey, can I come over?"

"Dude, you were just here!"

"I know, I know. But I need a shoulder to cry on."

"Damn, that bad? What happened? You and Y/N had a fight or...?"

"Can I just come over?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Geto Suguru has had a lot of weird moments with his best friend, but that phone call certainly was...something. No explanation, no joking around, just straight to the point.

About fifteen minutes later he heard his front door open.

"Satoru, did you learn how to teleport or something? We live an hour away from eachother," Geto joked before he could even turn around and see the state his friend was in. Disheveled hair, dry lips, red eyes. Something terrible must've happened.

"It's Y/N," was all Gojo said before he sat down at the dining table.

"Figured that much," replied Geto and took a seat next to him and waited. He knew Gojo. That man can't shut his mouth to save his own life. He'll spill everything sooner or later.

Gojo let his head fall on top of Geto's and sighed. Geto patted his fluffy white hair and kept on waiting. Good thing was they both sat right across a big window. Geto could count pine cones on the nearby trees while he waited for Gojo to open up.

It didn't take long.

"Y/N left."

"WHAT?!" Geto pushed the white head off of his shoulder and took Gojo by the shoulders. "What happened? What did you do?" He stared him in the eye.

Gojo just blinked. "I don't know! I don't think I did anything wrong," he looked oit the window again. A squirell jumped from one branch to another.

Geto rolled his eyes and turned Gojo's face back to his. "Satoru, people don't just up and leave. You must've done or said something that hurt her feelings. What did I tell you about comunication being-"

"Being the cornerstone of a good relationship, I remember," he put his hands on Geto's cupping his face. "We did talk. And I thought we came to a mutual understanding. Then I offered to cuddle with her and went to shower but once I walked out she was gone. All her things too..."

"Wow," Geto let go of his friend's face, "what a bitch."

"Right?" Gojo agreed and leaned back on his chair so far it was threatening to fall. "I don't understand. She never complained before, never said anything, then all of a sudden she pulls a stunt like that, throws a scene, slips into her selfhating thing again-"

"Wait, she what?" Geto asked confused. He has met you enough times to know you were very cheerful and life-loving person. What was Gojo talking about? Selfhatred?

"She has these moments,"he explained, "thinks she's too fat, then not curvy enough, thinks she's too basic to be with a guy like me, so on. When it happened the first few times i comforted her but even after all those years she still thinks of herself as less than and I'm too damn tired of it. I thought all of those negative thoughts would go away the first time I assured her I love her no matter what," he crossed his arms on his chest and looked out the window again. "I'm starting to feel like she's doing it for attention."

"Listen Satoru, maybe she's just extremely selfconscious and people like her need reassurance like that. Besides if she was really doing that for attention she wouldn't leave withoit a word. She would leave hints for you to find her and come beg her on your knees or something."

Gojo chuckled. "Suguru, you've got to stop watching Shoko's telenovelas."

"I'm a slut for drama."

A phone rang.

In a speed of light Gojo pulled out his phone hoping to see your lovely face. The screen was black.

Geto pulled out his ringing phone and picked up. "Well well, speak of the devil," he smiled.

Gojo couldn't hear what him and Shoko were talking about. He could only take hints from Geto's facial expressions and his occasional answers.

"What do you mean you have to cancel it? Oh. Okay. I understand. And did she tell you what-" his eyes got wide. "But wait, that's not- I didn't- Actually he's right next to me."

Gojo tried to get closer to hear what they were talking about but Geto jumped up and walked across the room.

"Okay. Okay, i'll ask him. No, that's fine. Alright. Take care, both of you. Bye," he hung up. Then slowly turned around to face Gojo now standing opposite him.

"Now you'll tell me exactly what had happened between you two. You said she caused a scene, what was it about?"

His mouth turned into neutral line, just like when you started this whole mess. "She asked me to stop seeing you. Can you believe that? Trust me, if I told her to stop seeing her friends all hell would break lose."

"Isn't that what happened when she asked you?" Geto pointed out the obvious double standard but Gojo wasn't listening.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? She wanted me to spend more time with her. Like, what does she want me to do? Make me and her morph into one being?"

"It is true that you've been spending a lot of time with me," Geto held his chin between his fingers in a thought. "But I don't get one thing. If you being away from her this often was a problem for her then she must've shown signs, not encourage you to come and spend time with me when she was too busy herself."

"About that," Gojo nervously played with his shades. "I might've over-exagarated that."

"Don't tell me..." Geto pinched the bridge of his nose.

"She wasn't always busy when I came here."

"Satoru!" He half shouted. "You always told me she was too busy and couldn't come! Why would you lie?"

"Because i felt trapped!" He yelled back. "I felt like I couldn't even breathe. Yes, being around has brought me so much joy but I missed the thrill of being free. Just being with you and Shoko and doing whatever. Now I just feel like I'm chained to something that I kinda want away from but also not," the entire time he spoke he was pacing back and forth. "I just wanted to feel like the old times."

"So in other words you miss the feeling of being single but you also like the benefits relationship gives you," Geto concluded. "I thought you were better than this."

"And I thought you would understand," Gojo turned his anger against his best friend who was calmly standing in the living room. "But wait, I forgot, you have no one," he mocked.

"Damn right I don't. Which makes me even more pissed off when I see how you treat your own relationship! Have you got any idea how much I envied you for having someone waiting for you at home and welcome you after a long day? Or just someone to be there for you in general?"

Gojo got silent. He didn't know. Geto never showed it.

Geto took it as his chance to try speak some sense into Gojo. "Listen, you only feel like this because you've never been in a relationship. Feeling trapped is normal, I think. What's important is that you love her and you're capable of changing to get her back, right?"

Gojo was just looking at him.

"Right?" Geto said a bit more panicked.

"I don't know!" Gojo exclaimed and Geto facepalmed. "I don't know how to choose between her and you."

"Is that what she asked? For you to choose between her and me?"

Gojo shook his head. "No, I think she just wanted me to spend less time with you."

"So she didn't out right prohibit you from hanging out with me, she only asked for you to stay with her more often," Geto was slowly but surely getting the whole picture.

"Something like that," Gojo shrugged.

Geto sighed. "You royally fucked up Gojo Satoru."

"No, really?" sarcasm dripped from his words. "I still think I did nothing wrong. She has no right to aks me to spend less time with you."

"She does actually. She's your girlfriend of what, three years?"

Gojo nodded.

"Three years and yet you place her beneath a best friend. How would you feel like if she had to choose between her best friend and you and she went for the friend?"

Suddenly, Gojo looked like it finally hit him. "I'd feel...terrible," he sat down on the chair. "But... but I didn't tell her I would choose you. Both of you mean so much to me."

"On the same level or a different one? Satoru, understand that the love for a friend and a love for a lover are two separate kinds of love. You not being able to distinguish between them caused you to be in this mess."

Geto walked over to where Gojo sat and towere over him. He put a reassuring hand on his wide back. "Let me ask you this: what do you want right now? To be with her?"

Gojo stayed silent. He didn' know what he wanted. He hated the fact that he can't have both a friend and a lover. Choosing one would mean losing the other in Gojo's eyes. He can't afford that. Not when both of his most treasured people made him so happy.

Geto took his silence as a no. "You know what I think? You didn't want to have her. You just wanted others to see you have her."

His words cut like a knife. Why? Why do his loved ones have to be this cruel? He only looked up from the floor to his best friends almost black eyes. His own baby blues were watery. A lump took place in his throat. With a horror he realised how weak he feels. One half of him already packed her things and walked away, he can't let the other half do the same.

"Do you hate me now?" He whispered, affraid if he will speak any louder he would cry.

Geto took a while. Then shook his head. "No Satoru, just dissapointed."

Gojo nodded and looked back down to the floor.

Few minutes passed. None of them said anything. After Gojo was completely sure he won't fall apart he spoke up. "Do you think I can fix this?"

"Hmm," Geto hummed and pulled out a chair to sit opposite him. "Fixing means returning to its original state. I don't think things will go back to normal."

"But, I don't want to lose her. I know I don't!"

"Then you must set your priorities straight."

"But-" Gojo looked into Geto's eyes again. "That would mean I will loose you and that's equally as bad."

Geto shook his head. "You won't loose me. I'll still be here. You can still come over and we can still hang out. It just won't be like before."

"And that's what I don't want," Gojo mumbled and crossed his arms again while leaning into the backrest.

"Truthfully, if I had a girlfriend as amazing as Y/N I would spend a lot of time with her and not you."

Gojo swore he could feel his heart crack. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, "that it's only natural to pick your lover over your friends. Not always, of course, but often enough."

Geto lifted his head to see his friend pale as a ghost, his skintone could now rival with his hair. He immediatelly regreted what he said. "But as I said, even if that was the case, even if you chose her as your top priority, which you should've as a good boyfriend, then it wouldn't mean I would cease to exist. And if I get someone in the future and I do the same you won't cease to exist to me either. You are my best friend, Satoru," he placed a hand on Gojo's shoulder, "and no girl will ever change that."

Gojo's ocean blue eyes let some tears slipped. He realized that his best friend is right, as always. Geto will always be there. And sure, even after he gets busy in his own life and won't have time for Gojo and his antics anymore, that wouldn't mean they would change into strangers to one another.

Gojo quickly wiped his tears and nodded. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want tk fix this. I want to evolve this. I want her back. I want to learn to love her again. Properly this time."

"You sure about that?"

Gojo nodded.

"Even after she won't forgive you?"

"Why wouldn't she? She's smart. She will understand. Besides, how can you rehect the best man in the world?" He forced out a chuckle.

Geto shook his head. "Arrogant and full of yourself as always."

"Yeah, what can you do..."

Geto's phone buzzed again. But this time nkt from a phone call but a message. Geto took out his phone, gave it a short glance and put it back into his pocket.

"Was it Shoko?"

Geto shook his head. "Just my reminder. Me and Shoko planned to go see a movie."

"Oh, is that what you talked about canceling?"

Geto nodded. "Y/N knocked on her door and asked to stay a few days. From what Shoko told me she was a mess."

Gojo slumped forward on his chair and hid his face in his hands. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

Geto hummed. "Do you know what this is callled? Consequences. Hurts, doesn't it?"

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo x reader #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk fanfic

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jeankluv · 3 days

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Birdie | Satoru Gojo - Chapter 06

Words: 4,5k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

ac: _3aem

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Authors note: I need y’all to chose between yes or no. Depending on which one wins, something will happen in one of the future chapters 🤭 also thank you for the support ❤️

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Fic playlist

Gojo parked the car near the restaurant you had mentioned. It was a street ramen restaurant, a place you had visited countless times before. The ramen bowls were generous, and the prices were quite affordable, much to the relief of your wallet.

Luckily, you found a place to sit and perused the menu.

“I already know what I'm going to order.” You smiled, setting your menu aside.

“Oh, really?” He glanced up.

You nodded. “The house specialty with extra spice.” Just thinking about it made your mouth water.

“You like it spicy?” He looked at you with a hint of horror.

“Of course I do, Gojo. Don't tell me you don't?” Gojo nodded in response to your question. “Shit, most of the dishes here have some spice to them.”

“It's okay, it's just for one day.” He shook his head.

As the conversation flowed lively and you discovered new things about Gojo, the weight that had been on your shoulders since you stepped foot in the lake slowly fade away.

“Gojo…” You whispered after thanking the waiter who brought you dinner. “About what happened at the lake.”

“You don't have to tell me.” He gently interrupted. “If you want to tell me, then I'll listen and support you. But... if it's too much for you, then you don't have to tell me anything, birdie.” He smiled, and you could feel a warmth spreading in your chest.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

At times, you completely forgot that you didn't like Gojo, and another feeling you wanted to suppress emerged.

You shook your head and picked up the chopsticks to start eating. As usual, it was delicious and spicy as you liked it. You glanced through your lashes at Gojo and saw him struggling with the spiciness of his ramen, even though it was one of the mildest they had.

“Are you sure you're okay?” You stifled a laugh as you watched him fan himself with his hand.

“Yes, of course.” He coughed a bit. “It's just that... I'm not used to it.” He tried to smile.

“We can order milk, so the spiciness goes away better.” Gojo nodded deliberately, and you couldn't help but laugh.

You signaled for the waiter to bring a glass of milk. Watching him take a few sips and visibly relax, you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

“Feeling better now?” You asked, a playful glint in your eyes.

Gojo nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “Much better, thank you.”

The warmth of his smile melted away any lingering tension between you, and for a moment, you simply enjoyed the comfort of Gojo’s company.

As both of you continued eating, Gojo struggled to conceal his discomfort. Despite your initial concerns that dinner might be awkward because of what happened at the lake, it wasn't. You felt at ease with Gojo, and his occasional antics made you forget everything.

As you continued to share anecdotes and laughter, your ramen bowls emptied. And the night grew darker outside.

You watched as Gojo got up from his seat to pay. As you observed his back, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having accepted to come to this place with him. Gojo turned on his heels and flashed you a smile, a smile that made your cheeks turn crimson.

You didn't want to admit it, but perhaps Satoru Gojo was growing on you more than he should.

When Gojo returned to the table, you couldn't help the flutter of warmth his smile had ignited within you. Despite your best efforts to ignore him, you found yourself drawn to him in a way that both excited and unsettled you.

“Ready to go?” He asked, breaking the silence between both of you.

You nodded, getting up from your seat and following him out of the restaurant. The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, the soft breeze rustling the fabric of your clothes.

As you walked side by side, the comfortable silence between you said it all. It was a silence filled with unexpressed thoughts and emotions, a silent acknowledgment of the growing connection between you.

With every step, you couldn't help but look at Gojo, the presence of him at your side calming and strangely comforting. And when you got to the car, you couldn't deny the pang of disappointment that washed over you at the thought of saying goodbye.

“Gojo…” You muttered, getting a slight gaze from him. “About the other day…” How could you continue? “I know we are not close but I mean.” Shit. You were awful at these things. “You can talk to me I guess? We are classmates and all that.”

“You seemed awkward.”

“Shit. Is just that I’m awful with these things, okay? That’s why I didn’t know how to react the other day, when you, you…”

“It’s okay birdie. I get it.” You saw him smile. “Thank you for caring and I’m okay, so don’t worry.”

You nodded, still not sure if you should trust that okay he gave you, because it sounded like a lie and that it was hiding more behind.

At this point you couldn't deny that something was growing inside you. Satoru Gojo was making it difficult not to. His easy charm, genuine kindness, and unexpected moments of vulnerability had touched something deep within you, igniting a spark of longing you couldn't ignore.

Lost in your thoughts, you were jolted back to reality as the car came to a stop outside your house. Turning to face Gojo, you were met with his warm gaze, a silent understanding passing between you.

“Thanks for tonight, birdie.” He said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. “For coming to the match and for then, coming with me to…”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you returned his sentiment. “No, thank you. I had a really wonderful time having dinner with you. And don’t worry about what happened back in the lake, it was not your fault.”

As you stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk, a sense of anticipation filled you. Despite the late hour and the weariness that threatened to weigh you down, you couldn't shake the excitement that bubbled within you.

Gojo stepped out of his car and walked you to the door, apparently wanting to make sure you arrived safely.

“I'll see you in class.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” You whispered back. “Goodbye, Satoru.” You smiled.

“Huh?” He looked at you in surprise. “Wait, did you just...?”

“Goodbye!” You hummed and closed the door before he could say anything else.

As you leaned against the front door, the familiar sound of Gojo's car engine ignited a flurry of emotions inside you. You couldn't help but feel a pang of longing mixed with a hint of anticipation. However, as the sound faded into the distance, a bittersweet smile appeared at the corners of your lips before you forcibly pushed those feelings away, reminding yourself of the need to remain grounded in the present moment.

As you walked through the quiet house, you found solace in the familiarity of your own room. Kyoko's absence, along with the echo of silence, allowed your thoughts to wander freely. Despite the calm outside, turmoil brewed beneath the surface as repressed memories of that night threatened to resurface.

Sinking into bed, you were once again faced with the weight of unresolved emotions. Your mind returned to a pivotal moment etched into your past. With trembling fingers, you reached for the photograph.

“Mom…”

With a whispered word, you invoked the memory of a figure frozen forever in time.

In the quiet solitude of your room, you wrestled with the complexities of your past, piecing together fragments of memories your mind had decided to forget.

As tears threatened to spill, you recalled the few vivid moments still etched in your memory alongside your mother. But many had long since faded away, her laughter, her voice, her scent, now even her expressions were difficult to conjure.

Resting your head on your knees, you closed your eyes, letting yourself drift back to the sweet melody she used to sing before bedtime. Each note resonated with a sense of comfort and longing, a bittersweet reminder of a love that transcended time and space.

Enveloped by the silence of the room, with only the melody resonating from your vocal cords, you began to feel the warm embrace of sleep. Despite your desire to stay awake for Kyoko, your body was simply too exhausted. Each note of the lullaby seemed to lull you deeper into a state of peaceful surrender, until finally, with a reluctant sigh, you succumbed to the soothing embrace of slumber.

As the sun streamed through your window, you blinked opening your eyes, realizing you had slept through the night without interruption. Your cheeks felt wet, and it wasn't surprising; you had dreamt of your mother, something that hadn't happened since you were a child. You wiped your face with the palm of your hand and stretched as you rose from the bed.

With Kyoko's parents away for the weekend, it would just be the two of you. You reached for your phone in your bag to check for any messages.

Kyoko☀️

I'm home now. I saw you were asleep, so I didn't disturb you. Come to my room as soon as you wake up tomorrow!!

That was a good sign, right?

And then there was another message.

Pain in the ass

The exam is approaching. How about we meet on Sunday to study? By the way, good night birdie.

Perhaps it was time to change the nickname, huh? You mentally chastised yourself for realizing you were smiling. You left your phone aside and headed to Kyoko's room with excitement. You flopped onto her bed, calling out her name eagerly.

“Come on!” You urged, nudging her gently. “You have to tell me what happened yesterday.” You smiled with anticipation.

Kyoko opened her eyes slightly and murmured your name. “What time is it?” She asked, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Almost noon.” You replied.

“Almost noon?” Kyoko sat up, surprised. “I've slept the whole morning away.” She sighed with resignation.

“After getting home at three in the morning, it's understandable.” You teased.

“Don't make fun of me or I won't tell you.” She warned with a smile.

“Come on…” You pleaded with a pout.

Kyoko returned your smile and sat up in bed. “We're officially dating.” She announced with joy. You let out a small yay and embraced your best friend.

“Was it romantic?” You asked curiously.

“Yes. He took me out to dinner first, and then we went to the teamLab, where he asked me.” She sighed nostalgically.

“At teamLab?” You asked, amazed. “You've been wanting to go there for ages, but the tickets were always sold out.” You recalled with surprise.

Kyoko shrugged. “I know, and I don't know how he did it, but we got in, and in one of the rooms, the crystal room, he asked me if I wanted to officially start dating.”

“That's amazing.” You exclaimed, feeling genuinely happy for Kyoko. “It sounds like he put a lot of thought into it.”

Kyoko nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “He really did. It was like a dream.”

“I'm so happy for you.” You said, giving her another hug. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Kyoko returned the hug warmly, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you for always being there for me.” She said softly.

“Of course.” You replied, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest. “That's what friends are for, right?”

As you both sat there, basking in the glow of Kyoko's newfound happiness, you couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like these—moments of joy, laughter, etc..

“By the way…” Kyoko looked at you with a smirk on her face. “How was your night?”

“My… my night?” You responded confused.

“Don’t play silly. You went with Satoru, tell me.” She pouted.

“We just went and had dinner.” You said. “Nothing else.”

“Really?” She said with a disappointed tone.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Why do you seem upset?”

Kyoko shook her head. “It's nothing, don't worry about it.”

You nodded reluctantly at her response, sensing that she was hiding something. “We'll see each other again tomorrow.” You said. “We're going to study, don't get confused.”

“Pfft.” She laughed. “Of course not.”

“The exam is next week, and I have to beat Sa-Gojo.” You corrected yourself before saying his name.

“Technically, you already had a date.” Kyoko pointed out.

“Last night wasn't a date, we were just two colleagues going out to dinner.”

“Whatever you say.” She smiled. “Anyways, you have to work today right?”

You bite your lip. “Ugh, yeah.”

“Do you want to meet up after your shift? We can meet Shoko and I can introduce you to her.” She smiled.

“That sounds good.” You replied.

“Perfect.” She got up from her bed and stretched. “Should we have breakfast?” You nodded in agreement.

Kyoko and you enjoyed a breakfast filled with laughter and conversation, but before you knew it, it was time for you to head to work. After bidding Kyoko farewell, you made your way to the store.

It was mid-afternoon when you suddenly remembered that you hadn't responded to Gojo's message. Retrieving your phone, you quickly finding the chat with Gojo.

You to Pain in the ass

Okay, we will meet again tomorrow.

At your place?

Within minutes, your phone lit up again, displaying a new message from Gojo.

Pain in the ass

Yep

I'll come pick you up, is 10 AM okay for you?

You read Gojo's message and felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Despite the playful nickname you had given him, there was an undeniable anticipation building within you for your upcoming meeting.

You to Pain in the ass

Sounds good, see you then 😌

With the message sent, you set your phone aside and resumed your tasks at the store. The remainder of the afternoon passed in a blur of customer interactions and inventory management, but Gojo's invitation lingered in the back of your mind, adding an extra spring to your step.

As evening approached and your shift came to an end, you found yourself eagerly looking forward to the following day.

You saw Kyoko waiting for you outside, engaged in lively conversation with another girl, whom you assumed was Shoko, Gojo and Suguru's friend. With excitement bubbling within you, you closed the store and made your way over to them.

As you approached, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of Kyoko and Shoko chatting animatedly. Their laughter filled the air, adding to the sense of camaraderie that surrounded them. Kyoko noticed you approaching and waved enthusiastically, gesturing for you to join them.

“Hey there!” Kyoko greeted you with a bright smile. “This is Shoko, the one I was telling you about.”

You exchanged introductions with Shoko, feeling a sense of warmth in her presence.

“Hi!” She smiled wildly. “I have heard a lot about you.”

You felt a twinge of embarrassment coursing through you. “Oh... really?” You attempted to laugh, trying to diffuse the awkward moment.

“Yeah, that idiot…” Shoko began to say before being cut off by Kyoko.

“Shall we?” Kyoko interrupted Shoko before she could continue speaking, her tone indicating a desire to move past that topic.

Confused, you looked at Shoko and then at Kyoko, wondering what had caused this sudden interruption.

“Let's go.” Kyoko said, taking your arm reassuringly. “I know you're starving.”

As you walked together, you couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity about the conversation that was abruptly halted.

On the way to the restaurant, you learned that Shoko was studying medicine and was of the same age as you. In fact, she had been friends with Gojo and Suguru since they were about 14 or 15 years old.

“They tend to be quite intense.” Shoko joked. “And pretty dumb when they're together, but they're good people.” She added with a smile.

You nodded, returning the smile. The camaraderie between you was growing with each exchange.

“But let's stop talking about those two, tonight is girls' night.” Shoko suggested, changing the subject.

“Exactly.” Kyoko agreed with a smile.

Finally, you arrived at the restaurant and took a seat at a table.

Through the night you found out, Shoko liked to drink just as much as Kyoko. So now you were sitting in front of two drunk girls that wouldn’t stop laughing at every minimum thing. Don’t get it wrong, you also drunk and we’re having fun, just not as much as your best friend and your new friend.

“For real?” Kyoko laughed heavily, holding her belly. “I can’t believe it.”

“I swear.” Shoko said with a small hiccup. “Let’s ask for another round!”

You smiled and stopped her. “Shoko… you both are too drunk. For tonight it’s enough.”

“Oh crap… you just sounded like Satoru.” She looked first at you and then at Kyoko. “They would be cute…” She whispered but it was enough for you to hear. Shoko called out your name. “Do you like Satoru?”

You opened your eyes slightly, surprised by her question. “What…?” Only that question came out of your mouth but your mind was functioning like crazy, because as crazy as sound that question also came to your head in the last few days. “Shoko what are you talking about?” You tried to laugh. “No, no, I don’t…”

Kyoko laughed saying your name. “You’re completely red.”

“That’s true!” Shoko screamed pointing at you. “You do like him!”

“I don’t!” Your voice sounded nervous. “I just… I consider him a friend now!”

“But would you fuck him?” Shoko questioned you.

And your face turned completely red. “Shoko! What?!”

“C’mon!” Kyoko scream. “You would right?”

“You are both drunk!” You stood up from your place. “Let’s head home.”

“She definitely would.” Shoko laughed. “I heard he is quite…”

“Okay enough. Let’s go.” You cut her off before hearing what she was about to say.

“Ugh you are no fun.” Shoko and Kyoko cried out.

With great effort, you managed to get Shoko and Kyoko out of the bar where you had been spending the night. Hailing a taxi, you arranged for transportation back home. Shoko would be staying with you at your place; you didn't want to leave her to her own devices in that state, and besides, you didn't even know where she lived. True, you could have called Gojo and asked him, but after that conversation, the last thing you wanted was to have anything to do with Satoru Gojo. You decided to postpone facing the jumble of emotions inside you until the next day.

As the taxi pulled up to your destination, you helped Shoko and Kyoko out of the car and guided them inside your home. Once inside, you settled Shoko on the couch with a blanket and made sure she was comfortable to rest. Despite the late hour, your mind was buzzing with thoughts of the evening's events and the unresolved feelings surrounding Gojo.

After ensuring your friends were settled in for the night, you retreated to your own room, the weight of the night's emotions pressing down on you. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but for now, you needed to rest and gather your strength for the emotional turmoil that lay ahead.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

You adjusted the rebellious strand of hair that kept falling out of place and took a deep breath. Why were you so nervous? You were just meeting up with Gojo to study, but still, your heart couldn't help but race at the thought.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, signaling that it was likely Gojo letting you know he was already outside waiting for you.

You bid farewell to Kyoko and her parents and stepped out of the house. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Gojo leaning against his car, engrossed in his phone. When he heard the door close, he looked up, and your eyes met.

“Hey.” Gojo smiled.

You nodded. “Hi…”

Damn it, what was wrong with you?

“Birdie, you okay?” Gojo leaned in slightly to get a better look at your face.

“Huh?” You refocused your gaze on him. “Oh... yeah, yeah.” You smiled faintly. “Ready to go?” You motioned towards the car.

Gojo nodded and reopened the car door, and you climbed into the vehicle that was already starting to feel familiar. Gojo settled in beside you, and as he started the car, it dawned on you that you were headed to Gojo's apartment.

The conversation from last night echoed in your mind. You were beginning to develop feelings for Satoru Gojo. And that terrified you. You were afraid of what might happen if you let those feelings continue to grow.

“You seem quite distracted.” Gojo's gentle voice broke through your thoughts.

“It's nothing.” You tried to brush it off. “Just thinking about something.”

Gojo simply nodded and focused his gaze on the road ahead. The landscape began to change, arriving at a neighborhood of the city that you did not know. It was a rich neighborhood, the cars that were parked and the whole atmosphere screamed money. It didn't surprise you, where else could the great Satoru Gojo live after all.

Gojo parked his car in a garage and you both silently took the elevator. You watched as Gojo played with the car keys in his hand, while he looked ahead. Your heart continued to beat strongly.

As you entered Gojo's apartment, a feeling of surprise washed over you. It was not what you expected, it was a warm, cozy place. You took off your shoes at the entrance and followed Gojo into the kitchen.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Water is fine.” You said. Gojo turned around and grabbed a glass to put some water on it. “Thank you…” You whispered when Gojo gave you the glass.

You tried avoiding his gaze but you knew he knew something was off with you. “Birdie…”

“Should we start with the study time?” You cut him. “Should we study in the living room?” You looked around. “Or there is somewhere else we could study.”

“In the living room it’s okay.” He said, still looking at you.

“Great! Let’s go!” You grabbed your bag and walked towards the living room.

Sitting on the big couch of Gojo’s department, you took out the notebook and waited patiently for Gojo to come and start studying.

You felt Gojo enter the room and sit next to you, too close for your liking. Too much. You could feel your hands starting to sweat and your heart racing again.

Do you like Gojo?

Do you have feelings for him?

The words repeated themselves in your head over and over again.

“Shit…” You murmured.

“Is everything alright birdie?” His soft voice spoke.

“Huh?” You turned your head only to be met with his blue eyes, way too close for your liking, for yourself.

Surprised, you moved backwards, causing you to fall off the couch. Gojo quickly stood up from her position and walked over to you to help you. “Birdie…” He said with concern. "Are you alright?" Gojo grabbed your hands and helped you sit on the couch.

You shook your head. “Yeah…” No. “I went out last night and I’m tired.” I can’t shake this feelings away. “It’s nothing.” It’s everything. “It’s okay…” It’s not.

“You should had told me…” He said with a sad look. “We could have chosen another day…” He whispered. “Nothing would have happened.” He smiled at you.

Satoru Gojo stop or I will completely fall and I don’t want to.

You shook your head. “Don’t worry.” You faintly smiled.

He hesitated but nodded at your words. You both sat next to each other and started studying. Gojo carefully explained the things that were still unclear to you. Each time he approached, your heart rate quickened.

Your feelings were completely tangled up. Satoru Gojo couldn't possibly be someone you liked, but no matter how many times your mind repeated that, your heart felt differently. It reacted tumultuously every time he was near.

As Gojo continued to clarify things for you, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation. His proximity seemed to amplify the turmoil within you, leaving you torn between what your head was telling you and what your heart was feeling.

Satoru Gojo POV

Gojo glanced at you from the corner of his eye, observing how completely engrossed you were in trying to solve the problem at hand. You delicately chewed on the end of your pen, your brow furrowing slightly in concentration.

She's beautiful.

Gojo shook his head and turned his gaze away from you.

Ever since he realized that you shared classes and even a major, he had tried on numerous occasions to get closer to you, but without any success.

When he invited you to the lake, he had attempted to confess, not in a romantic way. You see, Gojo did have strong feelings for you, a crush according to him. But he considered it too early to express them; he didn't want to risk pushing you away. What he had wanted to confess was his immense gratitude for what you did when you were six years old. However, just as he was about to do so, you had that panic attack.

He felt immensely guilty. Something had happened to you at that lake, and he had unwittingly triggered those memories. Seeing you so vulnerable and broken had shattered his heart. Holding you close had felt natural, and all he had wanted was for that pain you were experiencing to go away as soon as possible.

As Gojo watched you, he felt remorse for unintentionally causing your distress. He had tried to express his gratitude, but he had only made things worse, leaving you emotionally affected.

Despite his good intentions, Gojo felt guilty for contributing to your discomfort. He hadn't wanted to hurt you, he just wanted to comfort you. The image of seeing you so affected haunted him.

He silently decided to be there for you, support you with everything you needed and show you with actions how much you meant to him. Maybe he couldn't express his feelings at the time, but he was determined to show you his affection in other ways.

“Hey, birdie.” Gojo said softly, breaking the silence between them.

You looked up from your task, meeting his gaze with a curious expression. “Yeah, Gojo?”

“I just wanted to say... I'm sorry.” He began, his voice tinged with sincerity. “I know you already told me it was okay but I didn't mean to upset you back at the lake.”

You paused, studying his earnest expression for a moment before offering a small nod. “It's okay, Gojo. I know you didn't mean any wrong. And... thank you, for trying to help.”

Gojo smiled gratefully at your understanding, relieved to have cleared the air between them. “Of course, birdie. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what.”

Gojo saw you blinking slowly at his words and a small smile appearing on your lips. “Thanks, Gojo. That means a lot to me.”

Note: comment if you want to be tagged

Tagged people: @lavender-hvze, @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke, @faetoraa,@hexipessimistic, @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun

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tomieafterdark · 3 days

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Catboy Eren drabble

cw: afab!reader, dom!eren, 18+ dni if u are a minor

I am gonna be honest, this is so unserious I don't know what possessed me to actually write it and hit poster prob should have stayed in the drafts. Anyways, it is inspired by the same person that inspired this fic because he has a catlike aura.

not proofread also click here for more content

You always thought Eren had this "grumpy cat" aura to him, and you never stopped reminding him about it. In fact, you had tried to make him say "meow" or use a catboy image as his profile picture several times, but all you were met with was him ignoring it or telling you it will never happen.

Everything he said seemed to go in one ear and out of the other, because one day when hanging out with him you decided it would be a good idea to bring cat ears and try to put them on him.

And you did. Eventually.

As if his death glare had not been enough, you just had to blurt out that he looks like a submissive catboy.

And that is how you ended up in this lovely situation.

"E-eren slow down!" You whined.

"Shut the fuck up." he hissed in irritation, pushing your head further down into the pillow.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Eren was stretching you open more and more with every thrust, as if the position he had you in wasn’t painful enough he went in with almost no prep. Adjusting to his size was quite the challenge.

He loved watching your hole swallow his cock whole, but what he loved even more was the way you reacted to how deep he went inside of you. He could tell that none of your previous sexual partners had ever touched your cervix with their tip, nor had they stretched you so good that it feels like your first time all over again.

He kept his eyes locked on you as he fastened his pace. Your whimpering grew louder and clearer even though your face was buried in the pillow, your cries were actual music to his ears. He needed to hear them more clearly.

He suddenly slips it out, you are too fucked out to notice it at first, still arching. But next thing you know he is sitting next to you on the bed and leaning against the headboard.

“Get up y/n, I want you on top.” He commands coldly, his intimidating gaze not leaving you for a second.

You get up slowly, feeling a mix of pain and pleasure between your legs. You suddenly notice he forgot to take off the cat ears you had put on him earlier, it is very hard to not giggle but you manage to somehow muster up enough self control to keep quiet. You slowly move over to him, it is impossible to not stare at his face because of the cat ears. He looks so good with them on, and surprisingly not submissive. However the “grumpy cat” energy remains, and he looks even more annoyed now because you are taking way too long getting on top of him. Somehow he comes to the conclusion that you are being nervous because of his size but you are just in awe of how good he looks with cat ears on, you haven’t even glanced at his dick yet.

“Y/n, if you are scared of the size just say that. I can assist.” He mutters, seeming less annoyed and almost concerned now.

“Huh?” You look at him in confusion, but the dots soon connect. You are about to protest, but the way he suddenly became all attentive and kind of careful made you feel some type of way and you don't mind this going on for a bit longer.

He starts fingering you and the sudden intrusion makes you hiss but he quickly shuts you up with a kiss. You manage to take a quick glance at his cock amidst all the kissing and moaning and you feel the knot in your stomach. It is a strange mix of fear, excitement and doom. How would all that fit inside you?

All the mixed emotions and his skilled fingers bring you closer and closer to climax, he is aware of it by the way you are squeezing around his fingers and moaning louder and louder into the kiss. He stops right before you cum, you feel so close and you are so desperate that without even thinking, you quickly bring your left hand between your legs.

“Not so fast.” Your wrist is suddenly burning from the iron grip he has on it and the more you pull away the harder he grips. You whine and pout in frustration, not even looking at him directly and still looking for a way to reach your high. You are really starting to lose patience.

He grabs your lower face, making you look up at him. “If you want to cum, you will do it on my cock. Got it?” His stern voice and cold stare anchor you back to reality, and all you can do is nod.

He doesn't waste another second, grabbing you by the waist making you straddle him. You instinctively hold on to him, and he does the same to you, just he does it for a completely different reason. You held on to his shoulders because a part of you feels safe around him, while he grabbed your hips out of impatience and to teach you a lesson for putting cat ears on him.

You try to wriggle yourself out of his tight grip a bit, usually when you are on top like this you are the one controlling the pace and taking on a more dominant role but this is nothing like that. Instead, he slowly lowers you down on it and you gasp hard even though only the tip is in.

Truth be told, he is resisting the urge to slam you down on it and teach you a very hard lesson, but ever since he noticed you have not had anyone his size before he has been taking his time with you. No, not because he cares, he just thinks your reactions are hilarious. You went from “annoying and cocky asking him to meow for you” to “crying little mess that does not know what to do with herself every time he thrusts” very quickly.

He watches you intensely, you avoid looking into his eyes, it makes you feel like prey and as if his darkness is about to eat you alive even though he still has the cat ears on. The more he lowers you down on his cock, the more you are starting to believe you will feel it in your guts. He lowers you down very slowly and it gives a whole new meaning to “feeling every inch of him”.

Your mind is going a bit blank, all you can repeat is “it is so big” and “I feel so full” inside your head. On the outside you are just biting your cheek trying to not burst out in tears like you did earlier. It feels different when your face is not in the pillow, hiding from his cold sharp gaze. This has you feeling new depths of submissiveness and being vulnerable. Though he can kind of notice you are trying your hardest to keep it cool but that is nothing but a challenge to him. This makes him want to break you more.

You let out a yelp, because he suddenly slams you down on it with no warning and does not stop thrusting even for a second. You are not looking at him directly but you can tell he is smirking at the way you are struggling to keep it together.

“You were doing a good job trying to keep it together, but you have to try harder to fool me.” He whispers into your ear as one of his hands starts to caress hair. The contrast of his soft demeanor while caressing your hair and his rough thrusts that have your legs almost shaking has your mind going hazy. “I will break you either way, you might as well give in to make this easier for yourself..” he continues in his dark husky voice as his hand leaves your hair now, traveling further down caressing your clit instead.

It does not take a lot of movement to make you come undone. All that pent up energy from earlier was just waiting to be released, hanging on by a thread. The higher you feel the lower you will come down, and right now you are not just seeing stars you are seeing other galaxies. He grins as he watches you come. Your beautiful eyes are finally letting those tears out, and this time he can look into them since there is no pillow to shove your head in.

You feel so drained from that one orgasm, you end up just laying down for what feels like several long minutes. This low really matched the high.

Suddenly he climbs on top of you, his eyes even more dark and playful now. Before you can even react he, flips you on your stomach.

“Wha-” you blurt out.

“Who said I was done teaching you a lesson? I was going easy on you earlier..” He snickered as he spreads your cheeks apart.

#eren smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #smut #drabble #female reader

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hwashotcheeto · 1 day

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𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Ten

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.

WC: 6.3k

CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off

AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby

It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces.

But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made.

You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house.

Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother.

You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living.

“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.”

“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift.

“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were.

At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for.

You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.”

But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits.

But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain.

Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was.

You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise.

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie.

“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment.

You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?”

You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone.

So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.”

The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her.

“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?”

Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes.

He was everything. He was wonderful.

“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.”

“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present.

But for Seonghwa, you’d do it.

“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.

One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least.

The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.”

Your entire body sagged with relief.

So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall.

As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin.

A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back.

You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing.

It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small.

It could’ve been a crown.

“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?”

You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account.

But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it.

“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.”

The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone.

You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around.

Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-

“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly.

You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment.

And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense.

But it was worth it for Seonghwa.

The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back.

But there was nothing. Just light and joy.

You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.”

You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house.

A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations.

But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others.

But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time.

You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that.

But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him.

The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months.

Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right.

You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs.

You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it.

“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No.

But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early.

But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you.

“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table.

None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor.

Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?”

Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile.

“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass.

“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy.

Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.”

Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves.

It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in.

But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed.

It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for.

“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?”

You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was.

And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events.

Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.”

Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others.

“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink.

San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder.

With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle.

Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining.

Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself.

The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole.

Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st.

If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave.

It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses.

He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours.

He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did.

You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.

Whatever it was, you were conflicted.

You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body.

But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him.

It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not.

Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for.

Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option.

But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back.

As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs.

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought.

Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face.

You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast.

Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would.

By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well.

You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own.

But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way.

But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum.

You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other.

But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.

In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain.

All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage.

You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker.

Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!”

Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree.

The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit.

You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible.

Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face.

“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.”

Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes.

You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement.

“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.”

Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them.

“Thank you too, jagiya.”

You just nodded, your heart cracking a little.

But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way.

But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out.

You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung.

After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug.

“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter.

Your heart cracked again.

Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious.

Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.”

“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle.

“Just open it, please!”

With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift.

“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?”

“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.”

You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself.

But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties.

Or maybe even future restaurant dates.

“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag.

“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.”

You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same.

“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again.

“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul.

He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him.

“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.”

You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom.

Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, nae sarang.”

Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa.

You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.”

It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes.

“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung.

“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again.

“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it.

Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him.

“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.

“Them?”

“Yes, them, now go look!”

Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside.

And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox.

Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details.

Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them.

So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung.

And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children.

The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest.

“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine.

“You’re welcome.”

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness.

It cracked your heart all over again.

With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms.

You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there.

How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it.

But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time.

But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever.

You knew what it was. You knew why it was there.

But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears.

Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was.

But not now. You couldn’t do it now.

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little.

“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke.

You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you.

In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it.

“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.”

You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands.

You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again.

It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies.

A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain.

The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect.

Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect.

“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real.

Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.”

“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it.

“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else.

But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace.

It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony.

You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours.

But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain.

If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you.

And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds.

There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving.

When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body.

You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide.

The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years.

But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful.

“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.”

Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day.

The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again.

But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through.

It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age.

But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head.

An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold.

Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion.

Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing.

“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater.

“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss.

“Be safe, nae sarang.”

“I will, Eomma.”

They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait.

It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile.

You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time.

It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it.

But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it.

As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal.

The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close.

You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away.

“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms.

“I will. You too.”

Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night.

You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it.

Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said.

But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fic #seonghwa ff #seonghwa x reader #best friend's mother

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lolathestoryteller · 3 days

Text

fatherly duties (April 25th prompt; Thrill) @jilymicrofics

“You’re staring, Lil.”

Lily startles, nearly knocking James off his feet as she spins around to face him.

“Woah,” he breathes, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. “Just me.”

Lily frowns up at him, though she can’t completely hide the slight blush that warms her cheeks, noticing his bemused expression. “I wasn’t staring James, I was just—“

“Staring. Yeah.” James interrupts cheekily, giving her his typical lopsided grin.

“Checking.” Lily corrects him, crossing her arms. “I was just checking if he’s alright.”

James’s smirk softens at that, and is replaced by an understanding smile. “Yeah.” he says quietly, looking past her at the door to Harry’s bedroom, which stands slightly ajar. “I was about to do that, though. One of my fatherly duties.”

Lily can’t help but chuckle at his feigned displeased frown. “Oh, is it now?” she asks amusedly. “And what else, may I ask, would those fatherly duties include?”

James presses a finger to his chin, thinking. “Well…there’s telling horribly flat jokes, for one.” he muses, smirking slightly at Lily’s eye roll.

“Hm, they’re called Dad jokes, I think.” she replies, acting as though this conversation was indeed very serious.

James can hardly hold back a laugh. “Yes, yes, exactly those.” he agrees. “Oh! and there’s also, teaching him all the hidden ways around Hogwarts and—“

Lily slaps his chest. “James Potter!” she hisses quietly. “He’s gotten into more than enough trouble on his own, he definitely doesn’t need your encouragement.”

“Alright, alright.” James sighs, but in all honesty, he does agree with Lily. Hearing about Harry‘s many previous escapes has had them both feeling less than thrilled, to say the least.

“Well, I’ve got another one then,” he adds, walking up closer to the door to peak inside the moon lit room — the room that once belonged to Sirius and now hosts his son. “Protecting him, with my life.”

Lily feels her chest constricting with the entirety of the statement. “With our lives.” she corrects him quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder.

She watches Harry’s sleeping face, and tries her best not to think of the last time they’d vowed to do that — and the last time they almost did do that. And she’d do it again, in a heartbeat.

James wraps his arm around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head.

“Merlin, I’d take a hundred curses for that kid,” he says after a minute. Then, with a breathed chuckle. “Although, you know, I’d still prefer not having to bite the grass anytime soon.”

Lily smiles weakly. “You always hated to eat your greens.”

James turns his head to look down at her, an incredulous expression on his handsome face, before he suddenly bursts out laughing. “Wow.” he snorts. “Can’t believe Prefect and Head Girl Lily Evans would ever pull a pun.”

Lily giggles despite herself, reveling in this moment of quiet solitude. “Oh, she’d never,” she replies with mocked disapproval, before her lips tug into a smile. “But Lily Potter certainly would.”

She thinks James’s smile could probably light the entire bloody house. “I love you, Mrs. Potter.” he smiles, like the love struck teenager he hasn’t been in almost seventeen years.

Lily blushes, although she reckons she really shouldn’t anymore, being in her thirties and all. “I love you too, Mr. Potter.”

A slight creak to their right makes them both turn, and Lily’s blush increases, now twinged with a bit of guilt as she’s met with the confused eyes of their son.

“Dunno what’s more worth asking about,” Harry lulls tiredly, blinking against the light in the hallway. “Why you two’ve been standing in front of my bedroom for the past half hour, or what’s gotten you to giggle on about…?”

Lily bites her lip, sparing Harry a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sweetheart,” she replies genuinely. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“We’re just checking on you.” James adds, perhaps unnecessarily.

Lily notices the look of confusion on Harry‘s face. “Uh…right,” he replies slowly. “Checking for what?”

“To know you’re okay.” she explains gently.

Harry raises a brow, lips twitching amusedly. “I’m fine,” he chuckles. “I was asleep, you know…not much I could do that you’d have to check on.”

“It’s just a nice change,” James pipes up, clearly wanting to lighten their conversation. “You — sleeping so quietly, not scurrying around, beating your old man at quidditch.”

Harry snorts. “Yeah, well, I could still beat you, even with my eyes closed.” he retorts jokingly.

James gasps in mock appall; „In your dreams!“

Harry snickers, with that same cheeky glint in his eyes which Lily‘s seen plenty of times before, on James. “Yeah, there too.”

#harry potter #james potter #jily #jily microfic #lily potter #jily lives #hp ootp #hp #potter family #grimmauld place #quidditch

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bicheetopuff · 12 hours

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(Ch. 336)

You know, this panel has always made me a little curious. Every other time we saw Izuku sparring with Katsuki (before the war started at least), he’d use blackwhip to defend himself, hence ‘catch-a-kacchan’ so I found it weird how Izuku didn’t even try to grab Katsuki. For like 100 chapters prior to this, he used blackwhip for everything and would eventually just leave it out incase he needed it quickly kinda like how Hawks utilized his feathers (when he had them) so I kinda just made a mental note about how weird it was that Izuku chose to evade instead of defend when he easily could’ve.

I also found it weird how quickly Izuku wanted to change the topic along with the distress on his face. I thought it was just a cheap and ooc way of explaining Todoroki’s new power quickly but, since it’s now confirmed that Izuku has PTSD about Katsuki’s sacrifice, what if Katsuki’s cluster move triggers that trauma response too?

The next time we see cluster used with Izuku present, Izuku actually does respond with blackwhip.

(Ch. 404)

He doesn’t use it in defense though, he uses it in almost possessive way by securing their hands together with it. But also, he doesn’t speak for this entire chapter. It could be explained away by the side effect of using gearshift and him not being able to breath but before now, he’s been more focused while in distress and was also speaking just fine before. Though, in these panels, and through the entire chapter, he seems almost delirious and in shock. He’s not even reacting to the lack of oxygen anymore.

He even starts ignoring Shigaraki in these moments. He’s stunned and mesmerized but now I’m starting to question whether he’s amazed or scared out of his mind for what might happen. With that uncertainty, all that I can say confidently is that he’s distracted.

(Season 7 ep. 4)

Arguably after chapter 404, he stops thinking straight and, honestly, gets a little sloppy. A few chapters after this, is when gets danger sense stolen and starts getting truly injured. He makes the decision to give away OFA and loses his arms. He reverts right back into his “I don’t care what happens to me” mentality that his class has been trying to get him to grow out of for a while.

He wasn’t mentally prepared for something to go wrong in this fight. He wasn’t mentally prepared to be pulled away, leaving Katsuki with Shigaraki. I thought it was just iffy writing that he’d mentally regress after Katsuki woke up instead of before but, it honestly makes a lot more sense now. He cared about what happened to himself because he needed to stay alive to ensure Katsuki’s revival. Once Katsuki woke up and he watched him fight AFO, he started being reckless again. He went back to viewing himself as nothing but a vessel for OFA because he believes OFA is the only thing that can beat AFO, hence why he trusted the vestiges when they said “we can fight him from the inside” (which I think was a silly decision. It’s noble in theory but it amounted to nothing because Izuku can’t win in this regressive state of self sacrifice anymore. Or at least, he shouldn’t since it’s such a big part of his arc.).

And now, with the most recent chapter with most of his classmates present it seems like he’s regretting that decision because he’s being reminded that people care about him. They showed up to support him regardless of already being hurt because he can’t win on his own. Eri mutilated herself to help him and if that doesn’t tell him that fighting without the intent of not dying is stupid, idk what will.

(Ch. 421)

He was about to just throw himself back into the fight with the same mindset as before if Aizawa didn’t stop him. He looks frustrated because he realizes the weight of what he’s been doing and how looking up to AM and the previous vestiges shouldn’t be his role models right now considering all of their fates. He’d just be continuing OFAs curse like Katsuki’s been worried about for a hundred something chapters.

In conclusion, this post was very unfocused but I can’t wait to see Izuku kick ass and for Katsuki to show back up because with the impact he’s had on Izuku, I DESPERATELY need them to talk. Most of this post may have very well been a stretch but, let me be delusional please.

#bnha #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #bnha 421 #also rereading some of these chapters made me realize that katsuki changed fate just like Izuku did when Nighteye looked into the future #I think we’re all being far too normal about that #oh Katsuki’s gonna show back up btw #he literally has to for what’s happening to make sense #same with iida and Uraraka #bakudeku #bkdk #I’m sorry but this last memories episode chemically altered my brain and made think of Izuku’s character so much #he’s just a kid #bnha meta

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somethingsomethingwords · 2 days

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Hello hello hello!!! This was born because I needed more Nando being besotted and Lance getting some deserved rest, no other reasons. Thank you for reading. Enjoy 💜.

Fernando was starting to feel some not so vague sense of annoyance at himself.

He and Lance were supposed to go on a date, the first one in a while, because their lives were chaotic and busy as hell.

They were both in Canada, Lance staying home, relaxing after a rough start of the season and some previous commitments, while Fernando was there for some sponsor event that absolutely required his presence, not at all having begged for something to do in Canada, granting him an excuse to be near the other man.

But he must have prayed a little too hard, because not only the event had run later than programmed, but it was followed by a long wait in the car due to the heavy traffic.

While he was sitting in the car, he started making a mental list of all the things he would have to do to make it up to Lance.

The young man had been so happy about finally having some time off together. Despite being visibly tired, he had made some plans, and the promise of more to come once they were back home.

It was strange to think about a manor in a forest as a home for Fernando, but it wasn't home, not really, just like his own house in Monaco wasn't. It was Lance that made every single building that they were in a home.

Love-safety-protection.

But right now, he had to think on how to apologise, because Lance must have been mad as hell.

Usually, when Fernando was late, Lance would write him a text every 10 minutes until he arrived. It was his way of annoying him and still making sure he knew he cared.

Now, it had been radio silence the whole evening. He prayed Lance would let him in, even if just to take a change of clothes.

When he finally arrived, he parked the car and went to the front door.

It was strange, because it was getting dark, but he couldn't see any of the lights on.

He started feeling worried. What if Lance was so mad he left? What if he fell and knocked himself out?

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

First things first, he turned on the lights, and he was going to scream Lance's name, when he finally saw the Canadian.

He was lying on his very comfy sofa, asleep and without his shirt on, because on his chest was napping a peaceful looking blonde baby, thumbs in her mouth, wrapped in a blanket, that he recognised as Lance's favourite, and protected by Lance's arm around her. Her cheek rested on his naked skin, seeking his warmth and lulled by his heart beat.

Oh.

This tender moment, the softness of niece and uncle bundled together and asleep in the safety of a house Lance promptly opened to Fernando, it was getting to him.

He could almost see Lance with another baby, their hair brown as their eyes, grins mischievous and big smiles, crawling slowly on this same parquet, then running on some sandy beach, speaking fast english then spanish then french then italian, their pale skin easily turned red by the sun.

He could see them starting karting, or hockey, or maybe wanting nothing to do with sports.

He could see them graduating, moving out, having a family of their own, while he and Lance grew old and grey, happy and satisfied and together.

Together. It seemed impossible, but maybe it wasn't, after all.

The thoughts of a home somewhere quiet, a ring and a child filled his mind, and he softly smiled at a future now lying sleeping on a couch.

At that exact moment, the baby girl started waking up, moving her little arms and softly whining.

He could see Lance starting to wake up as well and decided to intervene. He smiled at the baby, picking her up and gently rocking her. He bent over his lover, and left a kiss in his hairline.

"Keep sleeping cariño, I got her" he whispered, melting at the sight of Lance relaxing once more and mumbling something along the lines of "safe with you".

He rose up and walked to the kitchen. There was already a bag for the baby full of clothes and diapers and baby bottles.

"Are you hungry, mi amor, or you didn't agree with waking up, uh? Your uncle is the same, don't worry" he said, while waiting to understand what she needed: that was pretty clear when she put her whole fist in her mouth.

"Hungry it is. Just give me five minutes, and don't eat your hand" he laughed softly, before sitting her on the high chair Lance had stressed over while buying.

He quickly heated up the milk, making sure it wasn't too hot before feeding it to the girl. She hungrily took it, and made her way through it, almost finishing it all, before pulling away.

Fernando took her up, and started walking, gently tapping her back until she burped. He then cleaned her up, and returned to the living room.

The moment her eyes were on Lance, the baby tried to reach for him.

Fernando giggled and re-wrapped her in the blanket, depositing her once again on his chest.

Instinctively, Lance put his arm around the baby, and their breaths soon synchronised.

Fernando was left once again the only one awake. He decided to wait for Lance to wake up, sitting on the armchair near his head, just at touching distance. He started passing his hand through the younger man's hair, and was rewarded by a deep sigh of happiness.

Date night could wait, when they had a baby to take care of and some well deserved rest to look forward to.

#strollonso #fernando alonso #lance stroll #grumpy cat boy x besotted old man #yes this is what i think about daily #but can you blame me #them being soft and warm is my roman empire

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bethecliche · 16 hours

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my love mine all mine l vincent renzi x f!reader

summary: after seeing her for the first time, he just fell (deeply) in love word count: 3.7k content: female reader (no description of genitalia), mention of sex, mention of stretch marks, description of hair and eye color (but not texture or skin color), french laws and locations being misinterpreted, use of tv shows and books I didn't watch or read, non canon note: english is not my first langague! I wrote this in portuguese and then translated to english myself, there's a chance you'll find an error or something. I'm sorry sorry! I highly recommend you to listen to the song while reading.

you can check the aesthetic references for this oneshot here but take note that none of the people actual faces on this reflects on the character identity that I wrote, so don't base all of the details on the references for the characters in story.

The first time he noticed her, she was sitting on one of the wooden benches outside the courtrooms. She seemed nervous, shaking her legs and glancing restlessly between the watch on her wrist and the clock on the hallway wall, as if it made much difference. Regardless of her worried expression and furrowed brow, Vincent felt that he had never seen such an attractive woman in his life. From her brown hair to her brown boots, looked like she stepped out of one of those '70s fashion advertisements he'd seen in vintage magazines as a kid. He didn't had time to notice much more than that, as he crossed the hallway and headed to his session. At the end of the day, of course, she was no longer there.

What seemed to have been one of those street crushes that you see when crossing an avenue and never think about again, stayed in Vincent's head for a few days. Every time he passed by the corridor, he waited to see if the brunette would be there. He tried to guess what she was doing there that day and whether there was a possibility of bumping into her again, a question to which the universe answered “yes”.

Two weeks later, this time leaving work, he looked down buttoning his blue coat, distracted in his thoughts when he noticed the same brown boots a few steps in front of him. The stranger held a cigarette between her fingers and had her arms pressed against her body. Although it was snowing lightly, it was extremely cold for an autumn day. Her look was different, probably due to the weather, with a coat with a puffed collar and puffed sleeves, once again looking like she belonged to a previous decade. The wind ruffled her hair a little and the moonlight illuminated her posture, a scene Vincent believed could have come from a movie.

All his past relationships were comfortable. Someone he knew in high school, someone he knew in college, someone who was introduced by friends or someone his friends encouraged him to talk during an outing. He didn't consider himself an introvert, but he never needed to pursue someone who was interested. Things just happened for him. It wasn't his comfort zone just to approach a stranger like that, much less at the door of his work, but something that day said it was the right thing to do.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and approached the girl asking to borrow a lighter. His sudden plan only went so far.

As soon as she turned to face him, she gave a friendly and inviting smile, taking the object out of her pocket and activating the flame in front of his face. Vincent stood still, staring into her eyes throughout the action, mesmerized by her and her sparkling brown eyes.

“Will I ever meet a lawyer who doesn’t smoke?” She asked as she extinguished the flame, placing the lighter and her free hand back in her pocket. Too cold to let it out.

His response took a few agonizing seconds, as his mind was far away and still lost in her gaze. He composed himself, running a hand through his hair and looking away.

“The day this happens, let me know. I want to be there.” Vincent laughed awkwardly, causing the girl to laugh as well. At that moment, he felt that he wanted to provoke more of this reaction, he wanted to see more of her smile and so the conversation flowed.

His first question was how she guessed he was a lawyer and not a passerby to which she replied, "You stand like a lawyer." He shared how being a lawyer was boring and tedious, but it did have its dramatic moments in court when she asked if the career was challenging like its portrait on TV. He also discovered that she was there to pay a car ticket caused by her younger brother, hence the great nervousness when he first saw her a few weeks ago.

“When my parents told me that my 20th birthday present was a baby brother, I already felt within myself that I would be the best sister in the world. That I would try to make his life as easy as possible. 18 years later, he asks to borrow my car to visit his girlfriend - which I don't hesitate to do, after all I support young love. And the little shit-head makes sure on parking in front of a fire hydrant.” The girl blew smoke to her right side, not taking her eyes off him. “Would you be my lawyer if I try to choke him?”

Vincent could only laugh at her spontaneity, easy way of talking about life and easy way of making conversation.

“Just threaten him, it will be an easier case for me to win.”

They talked about Metz and how her family decided to move to Paris when she was a teenager because they knew the city needed more beautiful people, a fact Vincent agreed with. In order not to dismiss him, in a very charming way, she praised his Parisian accent and said that such a comment did not apply to him and only God knows how Vincent felt inside after that.

The two shared their tastes, such as reading romances and watching Dix pour cent every night before bed. It was as if they knew each other much more than the 1 hour they spent together under the snow. They shared maybe two more cigarettes before realizing it was getting a little too late to chat like that on the street.

He doesn't even know how he got out of that situation alive and managed to get home with her number.

Their first date was at a local cinema on a Friday night for a re-showing of Buffet Froid, a film Anne had never seen.

He didn't remember the last time he felt butterflies in his stomach, although it was guaranteed that nothing could compare to this time. As he got ready and tried to match his best t-shirts with his beige pants (which he eventually changed out of, finding them too tacky), Vincent remained nervous thinking that she might not show up or that this would be the first and last time they would meet in this circumstance.

In the end, all the “first time” flutter went out the window when he saw her smiling and waving on the other side of the street, already with the tickets in her hand. “I'm glad you came.” She said, holding his arm as they walked through the door of the establishment.

“I wouldn't miss it.” he replied.

The two took watching films very seriously, so it was only during the ending credits, after a lot of laughter, small comments and bumping hands on the popcorn bucket, that the two kissed.

He felt the softness of her skin on his hand and her sweet scent of perfume, in addition, of course, to the hot and saccharine kiss. It was slow, serene, just as they both wanted, being able to feel each other in that moment. It was also Anne's desire to slowly run her fingers through his hair and she didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.

After throwing their trash away, the two walked out of the cinema, now closer to each other, hand in hand. The weather wasn't as cold as when they first met and they were free to enjoy the warmth of their bodies without so many layers covering them.

“For a great 70's mind, you never having watched Buffet Froid is an insult.” He pointed at her with his free hand, wanting to tease her.

Anne rolled her eyes. Even though she liked the film, she didn't want to give a taste. “Obviously you would like action movies like that. It suits you.”

“I’ll make you like it too.” He stated, trying to imply that he wanted them to meet again, to which she responded by kissing his cheek and saying, “Next time, let's watch a romcom.”

Once, twice, three, four and a few more times, all being unusual dates. Sometimes she would call during his workday and say she would pick him up for an adventure. She drove aimlessly, just the two of them talking about their days and observing the city lights. These were Vincent's favorite “dates”, as they all ended with the two of them making out like two teenagers parked in the driveway of his apartment.

The more he got to know about her, the more he wanted to constantly be a part of her life. Anne owned a clothing store downtown, something he never tired of saying was the “most suitable job her”. On the last date they had, she took him to the closed store and put on a fashion montage for him, with improvised note cards on paper left on the counter and all. But she knew that the judge had been bought when he only gave her 10s. She also took the opportunity to get Vincent to do the same, putting him once again out of his comfort zone to find out that bell bottom jeans don't really suit him.

They even got to watch a car race - something that not even Anne had done, she had just decided that it was an experience they needed to have. They both entended up hating it, but the important thing was that the company was great.

That was one of the nights Anne slept at his house.

They ate some junk food from the fridge and watched a silly but captivating show on TV while they chatted more. When she realized she could sleep at any moment, Anne got up to brush her teeth and change her clothes, putting on her uniform for whenever she was there: a Vincent t-shirt.

Vincent found it charming how she captivated his gaze regardless of what she was doing. He loved her unique and sophisticated style, but he also loved seeing her like this, casually wearing his clothes, in his home, as if she were his. And lastly, he loved seeing her with nothing on.

Every detail of her body, her birthmarks on her shoulder and that one next to her beautiful eyes or her stretch marks on her back, everything about her seemed to have been chosen down to the millimeter. When they made love, his hands went everywhere, trying to reach as much of her as he could, to feel the warmth she exuded.

And the best way to love her was by looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty, running his lips up and down her body, being grateful for the privileged position it was to be able to love her.

Mornings were like nights, with him waking up earlier and being able, once again, to admire the woman beside her.

“You are even more beautiful in the morning.”

The two walked through the streets of Paris, both tipsy, looking for an available taxi in the dead of night. With their relationship now more established and their schedules aligned, they made it a challenge to come up with these unusual date only once a month so it wouldn't lose its fun. Today had been the day to go to the opera and due to their lack of sobriety, they didn't seem to have left anywhere other than the shabbiest bar on the corner.

The event was boring as fuck and they left halfway through to drink somewhere more enjoyable. They found an open bar showing a PSG versus Marseille match. Neither of them supported the teams or understood about football rules, but this seemed like a new opportunity for them to have another different experience that day.

One laughter after another, some passionate kisses between drinks and the two were celebrating PSG's victory at the bar with some strangers whom they befriended.

“My mother wants to meet you. My brother too. I said I might have a lawyer for the next time he's up to no good. Do you think it’s too early?”

When drunk, Anne tended to speak fast and slurred, but Vincent understood perfectly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose. “I will love meeting your family.”

They never actually asked each other to go steady, but it was clear that they already belonged to each other at that point.

Vincent was on his cell phone writing a text to his mother about the shopping list for Christmas dinner and their desire to participate in decorating the tree (Anne's request to spend more time with her mother-in-law) while his girlfriend was lying on his lap reading his copy of Around the World in 80 Days (and she was loving it, for sure).

It was a lazy day for both of them at Vincent's place. A year into their relationship, the two of them loved sharing these moments together doing different activities.

“She said she misses you a lot and looks forward to seeing you on Christmas, but that you're banned from being near the kitchen when it is time to prepare desserts. Everything you touch that’s sweet ends up burning for some reason.”

Her smile, excited by her mother-in-law's affection, turned into a face indignant at the rule she imposed. "What?" She looked up from the book and pulled Vincent's hand to check if the message was real and it was. “This is so unfair!”

“Sorry, Anne, you’re just really bad at this.”

She lightly pushed his arm and pretended to be uncomfortable, although she knew it was true and wasn't really upset. Before she could return to her book, Vincent placed his cell phone on the table and began talking.

“One more thing, huh,” he cleared his throat, “I made one more space on the rack for you. I don't want certain clothes to get wrinkled in the drawer. I’ll make room in one more drawer too.”

Anne put the book aside and knelt on the sofa, facing her boyfriend. “Won’t it bother you? I already have space in my bedroom drawer, bathroom… In fact, there are a lot of my things scattered around the house. I don’t want to impose my space here.”

This was a subject that she had also been waiting to comment on for some time. By working her own hours at the store and having an employee to take her place wherever needed, Anne had a more flexible schedule than Vincent and it was easier to stay at his house, helping to keep everything on track and cooking for both of them. He would arrive just before dinner time and they could enjoy together without rushing to do the chores.

Because of this, the few clothes she wore just to sleep there became a drawer full, her makeup in the bathroom sink and her shoes near the door.

The gray-haired man hugged her around the waist, kissing her forehead and assuring her of his action. “You are not imposing anything, mon chéri. I want you to use this space. I want to have more and more of you here.”

For him, having her scent permeate the rooms was a gift wrapped in the best bow. Knowing that every day he would come home to see her welcoming smile and welcome kiss was the biggest work incentive.

“It feels like my home.” She whined.

“It’s your home. Our home.” He insisted.

In his favorite action, he cupped her face and looked warmly into her eyes, admiring her features trying to associate with what he was trying to say. They both smiled at each other realizing where the topic was going.

“Are you…”

“I want you to move in with me.”

The beautiful smile that filled his heart appeared on her face and Vincent, who was sure of her choice, but a little afraid of her accepting it, smiled too at her positive reaction.

In conclusion, he ended up needing to make more closet space for her countless boots, but he was happy that she could call the space her own (and she looks great in those boots, he would never complain about making room for them).

The snack table was almost empty and that made Anne happy. She might not be good at desserts, but her food was always praised and she almost never had leftovers when she cooked for her friends.

“This sandwich is delicious, aunt Anne!” Daniel stated, taking another one from the table and sitting on the sofa next to her. “Can I take some home?”

“Of course you can! There’s more stored in the kitchen, I’ll put it on the side for you to take.” She continued, now coming closer to whisper. “You can give Snoop a bite, I won’t tell your mom.”

“Hey, I’m watching you two!” Sandra said towards the back of the sofa, pointing at the two jokingly. She was talking to Vincent leaning against the wall in the hallway, looking anxious.

There was approximately 10 people spread throughout the room at this gathering. The couple chose to host a celebration for the launch of Sandra's new book, a dear friend of both, and tried to make room for everyone present. She was very delighted with the honor, although unaccustomed to the positive attention she was receiving.

Even though they weren't glued to each other at the party, Anne and Vincent always stopped for a moment to exchange a kiss and ask if everything was okay. He, even more so, couldn't stop admiring his girlfriend from afar. Parties like this always made him happy to be able to share the love he had for her and also show others that this was his girl.

It was around 6pm that they said their goodbyes and thanked their friends for being there. After closing the door, Anne took a deep breath and leaned against it with Vincent kissing her neck and hugging her waist.

“Had fun today?” He asked against her neck, kissing slowly until he reached her face. Hugging him back, she just nodded yes, pulling him into a longing and passionate kiss.

Vincent pressed his body against hers and tightened his grip, placing his free hand against the wall for support. Everything was going well, until Vincent suddenly stopped, as if he couldn't give in to temptation yet.

He also took a deep breath, with a shy smile as he looked at her.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, still leaning against the door and resting her hands on his shoulder.

"What?" He retorted.

“During the party, you kept looking at me like that, with those heart-eyes, that fool in love face of yours. And now you're doing it again. It seems... different.”

Vincent laughed awkwardly, as if he was unprepared to respond that quickly. “In my defense, I always look like a fool in love when I’m with you.”

Before anything else, Vincent took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it, showing a silver ring made especially for her. With the hand that was on her waist, he slipped into her hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Kneeling isn’t your style, nor are long speeches in front of our friends, but I can’t just leave the ring in your hand without saying anything. The day I saw you for the first time, I was intrigued. The second time, that feeling I had of needing to talk to you urgently, of not letting the opportunity pass, I think, somehow, I knew we were going to get to this moment right now. By the third time - I was already in love. Head over heels, worshiping the ground you pass, heart-eyes, whatever you want to call it. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel those butterflies in my stomach before seeing you, that I don't feel the eager to be by your side. If you do me the honor of marrying me, I can promise that you will have a man who wakes up in love with you every day. Forever.”

Anne's eyes were already full of tears as soon as she saw the box and she couldn't help but shed them when she heard the proposal.

The last 4 years of their lives were instinctive, passionate, in a way she never thought she would experience. All her last lovers didn't last long, they couldn't handle her personality or couldn't love her right, so she was left with no hope that it would change. But Vincent's speech was something that she not only believed, she felt. Every day, she felt his love, his affection and his care. Wave of action speaks louder than words and she trusted her man.

There was no other answer than yes.

The same word was repeated by the two of them at the registry office a few months later. The idea was never a big party, it didn't suit either of their personalities, but Anne always wanted a dress and a veil, so they were both there, in their wedding clothes just before lunch time in the registry office next to Vincent's work place.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

With that sentence, the two shared a classic wedding kiss, with Vincent holding her around the waist and Anne throwing her leg up. They could live that moment over and over again, but they needed to go out for a little celebration party with their friends before they left for their honeymoon (and Anne was more than eager to have her friends around so she could toss the bouquet).

Outside, in another snowy day, Anne reached through the car window and took a black bag from the glove compartment, handing it to her now husband.

“What is it?” He held on, swinging by the loop to feel the weight so he could find out what it could be.

“It's your wedding gift.” She cheerfully replied.

He stole one more kiss from his wife before opening the bag, already imagining what could be inside.

“It has our initials and today’s date on it,” she pointed to the bottom where the details were, “so no other girl coming out of court will need to offer you the lighter.”

Vincent took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it with his newest gift, but without inhaling, just lighting it for the sake of it.

“No one will have my love. Only you, mon chéri."

#vincent renzi #vincent renzi x reader #swann arlaud #swann arlaud x reader #anatomy of a fall #fluff #i scrobbled this song 102 times to write this #my love mine all mine

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pumpkinbxtch · 2 days

Note

Thanks for doing that Lester x Non Binary Dionysus reader! I really loved it and I'm sorry for being so vague about it I wasn't sure what exactly I wanted. But it made me think, what would happen if Dionysus found out that Apollo and his child were dating? I think it would be fun. Take your time, I love your oneshots <333

oops, father found out ˚ ༘ ⋆

— apollo x child of dionysus!reader

previous part (no need to read it)

Warnings: none!

a/n: hi again! I'm glad you liked the last part and don't worry sometimes it's hard for us to know what we want. Here you go, I hope you like it ❤️ And thank you for your support 🥹🫶🏻 I hope i did well on this one too.

— What? Did you lose your mind, kid?! — You chuckled at the obvious reference to your father's powers. Usually, you'd be scared out of your wits, but with Apollo by your side, things just seemed easier. If that wasn't love, then what was it? — Don't make me punish you!

Apollo sighed. — Brother...

— Exactly, you're my brother! It's your—

— Stop! — You pleaded as you brought your hands to your head. You looked at Dionysus, his nose getting redder when he got angry. — You don't have DNA, father.

He snorted.

— I don't care, this can't happen.

— But it's already happening — your boyfriend defended. To your surprise, Apollo stood up straighter, more convinced, determined not to let you be separated, not after all the eons he spent searching for the love of his life. — And I love them. Be sure of that, brother. My intentions are not to hurt them.

Dionysus gritted his teeth and looked at Pollux, who had his gaze fixed on some point, thinking gods only know what. You, who knew him better than anyone, thought he looked surprised but not angry, because he had already lost a brother. Clearly, he didn't want to lose another sibling... but things were different, different situations, that's what he thought.

The room remained tense for different reasons; you couldn't believe the stupid reason you had been caught. Maybe it would have been better if your father had caught you kissing behind the cabin or holding hands, but you never imagined it would be because of the trace of your perfume on Apollo's clothes.

"I gave it to you!" your father said when he shook your boyfriend's shirt in your face, and you let out nervous giggles.

The question that haunted you was whether your father would take all this seriously and not let them be together because sometimes he could be strict and stubborn.

— You know what it is...

Apollo's voice filled the room of The Big House, and you could see Chiron discreetly pacing to catch up on the gossip. Dionysus raised an eyebrow and leaned over his brother, who, holding his brother's fleeting gaze, never faltered.

— What are you saying, Apollo?

— Falling in love — he replied, and you stopped feeling the situation funny; instead, a warmth spread across your cheeks. Pollux glanced at you sideways, and a small smile formed on his face. Things were getting better and better.

— Don't talk nonsense, Apollo.

— I'm not, brother. You and Ariadne—

— No! — the other exclaimed with a growl, his eyes bubbling with fury.

Apollo sighed again and approached his brother even closer, almost touching noses.

— Don't forget how you felt every time father scolded you.

— It's not the same!

— No, but you know what it's like to love someone so much that you lose the reason for your being, brother. — Apollo stepped back, his eyes shining with confidence. — I won't make them feel less than a deity or part of royalty I'll adore them with my soul until the ether dissipates. You know I've changed, brother, and for them, Me, a god, would die.

Dionysus wanted to intervene; however, Apollo kept speaking, pouring his heart out with every word.

— I would vanish and all humanity with the absence of my light before I even think of disappointing your child.

Pollux slid until his shoulders bumped, and you looked at him amazed. He smiled and hooked his pinky with yours. "I like him, I accept it," he wanted to say.

The place filled with silence, and your father looked away from Apollo for the first time to fix his gaze on you.

— Leave, I need to talk to my brother alone.

And although you would have liked to contradict him, you obeyed because you finally noticed the emotion he was hiding behind the anger in his eyes; there was nothing but fear, and you would have to endure until he let you know because despite how tough he could seem, he was your father. The same one who raised you with love and affection.

Before walking further from the porch, you could see through those curtains a hug, and you sighed. Everything would be fine.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#trials of apollo #apollo x you #apollo x reader #apollo pjo #apollo pjo x reader #apollo x y/n #lester papadopoulos x you #lester papadopoulos x reader #lester papadopoulos #pjo hoo toa #pjo #trials of apollo x reader

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bikini-kill-pilled · 1 day

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im really interested in the revival of riot grrrl; i think its absolutely possible for it to make a comeback, and i could even argue that it never actually went away...i mean, its definitely lost a bit of its edge, but their are bands coming out in its genre and they keep the spirit alive. anyway, the essential thing for the revival is that riot grrrl fixes its previous mistakes. i hate when people try to trivialize its importance because i do think it made a difference in the small span of time that it was really popular, but the main issues were how whitewashed it was, how it mostly focused on middle/upper suburban women, and how it (in my opinion mostly) centered a lot around reclaiming femininity, thereby neglecting gnc women who don't WANT to reclaim it. i found a cool article on black women in the feminist punk movement--specifically how they made their own movement, sista grrrl riot--and these quotes stood out to me. this ones by musician tamar kali brown:

"Being in this urban jungle, I was a different type of girl. I was hearing what they were saying, but I was living in an environment where people were getting stabbed. Riot Grrrl felt like a bubblegum expression. I was bald, and I would get a lot of negative attention that bordered on violence, so I wasn't in the world of [baby voice] 'You just think I can't play because I'm a girl!'

and this one by laronda davis:

"I never looked at a magazine and thought that that was what I was supposed to look like. On one hand, it's actually kind of liberating to not be what this standard of womanhood is. That standard put a lot of women in boxes, and they spend their li[ves] trying to get out of the box. Black women were never allowed in the box. I wasn't looking at TV saying, 'Oh, that represents me.' I wasn't listening to music telling about my experience. I had experiences that told me I wasn't concerned with these things that the happy songs were about."

(article here)

all in all i think what riot grrrl needs to change is its idea of a universal female childhood in their songs that we can all relate to. it kind of sucks to say but really all women do have in common are the stereotypes we're given, and when punk women criticized and defied those stereotypes they really shone; i was reading that people called kathleen hanna writing "slut" on her stomach white feminism and i was like....err. sexualization is something all women are subjected to. i've just been in a bit of a rabbit hole which started when i researched the history of trans people in riot grrrl, then to modern times when i found a claim that kathleen hanna had stopped using the line "all girls to the front" and edited her riot grrrl manifesto, and finally ended here with me thinking "man, riot grrrl's spirit is needed now more than ever, but like we need to make it WAAAAYYY better so it actually works out". the good news is, like i said, it hasn't actually faded out of mainstream consciousness.

i might add on to this in later posts. sorry if it's messy.

#talking and thinking #riot grrrl #radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist safe #radical feminist #radical feminists do interact #gender critical #radical feminist community #female separatism

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yanderes-galore · 2 days

Text

Sure! Bit rusty on Beastars but let me see what I got :) Darling is most likely an herbivore in this, but it's vague.

Prompts Here

Yandere! Legoshi Prompts 2, 18, 24

“I want to repay you for how happy you make me.”

“I wouldn’t ever hurt you. Everyone else, on the other hand…”

“Love can’t even begin to describe what I feel for you.”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Mature themes, Slight intimacy, Blood, Violence mentioned/implied, Clingy behavior, Fear of loss, Dubious touching/kissing, Dubious relationship.

The atmosphere of the hotel room is tense. Both of you roam the room, trying to get comfortable after previous events. After all... You were recently saved by Legoshi.

Your mind keeps flashing to when you were captured by the Shishigumi. Just when you felt you'd die to the lions, Legoshi came bursting in with bloodlust in his eyes. You considered Legoshi a friend... But you never thought he'd save you.

Poor you was oblivious to the reasons behind your rescue.

By the end of it, Legoshi held you in a tight embrace. The sudden hug was surprising... But welcomed. Although you could tell Legoshi ran out of adrenaline when he slumped in your arms.

Afterwards, when you helped him up, you ate together and found somewhere to stay for the night. A Love Hotel wasn't ideal... Yet it was somewhere you both could stay. You could tell even Legoshi was nervous as he entered the room.

You pitied how he looked... The wolf covered in blood and bruises from when he tore into the lions. You frowned slightly, noticing how out of it Legoshi looked. You finally sit on the bed, seeing how Legoshi just seems to stare.

"Are... You tired, Legoshi?" You ask, the wolf perking up at your words. His gaze softens... The reality of the situation setting in. He... He almost lost you...

His heart rate picks up at the thought.

"Tired?" Legoshi echoes back to you, trying to think clearly. "A little, I guess... Are you sure we should be sleeping in the same bed...? After everything that has happened?"

"We'll be fine for one night, right? Not like we can use the train now..." You sigh, gesturing to the bathroom. "How about you wash your clothes and recover? You... We've been through a lot."

Legoshi snaps out of his thoughts enough to head to the bathroom and wash his clothes. As he checks himself in the mirror, he can't help but worry. He really did almost lose you... Before he even got to say how he felt...

Should he change that... Tonight?

You notice Legoshi looks nervous and distant when he returns, sitting on the bed with his ears back. You look at him concerned when he glances at you, face tinted pink. You sit up to face him.

"Hey... I'm sorry you got yourself hurt for me." You whisper, looking at his black eye. Legoshi turns his full attention to you before heaving a sigh.

"It's okay, I did it for you." Legoshi answers, smiling softly at the thought "Plus..." The wolf leans closer, catching you by surprise.

“I wanted to repay you for how happy you make me.”

Your eyes widen in surprise at what he says. Legoshi gives you a dreamy look as he watches you. You... You make him feel conflicted... Yet he's always happy around you.

"Legoshi... There's no need to repay me for being kind. If anything, I should repay you...." Your voice comes out in a murmur. Legoshi's ears flick, it's clear he heard what you said. Even more so when he leans closer with his tail swaying.

"You're so important to me..." Legoshi whispers softly, nose sniffing at you as his eyes dilate. "I-I just wish I knew how to properly show it."

You yelp softly when he pulls you into his chest. You sink into his toned torso, heart hammering at the sudden contact. You then feel Legoshi's head lay on your shoulder, tail wagging.

"I want you to count on me to protect you." Legoshi admits, grip tighter than he means to be. “I wouldn’t ever hurt you. Everyone else, on the other hand…”

You notice the change of tone in Legoshi's voice. Your ears pick up on the subtle growl in his throat and you... Don't feel all that safe anymore. You keep your worries to yourself as the wolf nuzzles into you.

"I got so scared when I learned you were missing..." Legoshi sighs, claws trailing patterns on your stomach. "I... I just had to go find you... because I... Well, I love you...."

You perk at his confession, shaking in his arms as he holds you. Having a wolf like him love you... well... it could be dangerous. You've seen what he can do. The thought is flattering...

But you can tell his affections aren't normal if he's so hostile towards others.

"Actually," Legoshi continues, turning you around so you're looking at him before he gently pushes you down on the bed. “Love can’t even begin to describe what I feel for you.”

You stare at the wolf above you. The purple light illuminates him in a soft glow... You can see a sinister look in his gaze. Your heart beats fast... Not quite out of love... But out of fear.

"I can't get you out of my head..." Legoshi confesses. "I think of you more than I'd like to admit and... I don't want to lose you. I want you to know I'm obsessed with you and about you..."

The wolf leans closer, cupping your face with a large clawed hand. Before you know it he leans in and kisses you softly. You don't fight it... be that because you secretly wanted it... or were too scared to push away. By the end of it, Legoshi pulls away with a small pant.

He's always wanted to do that.

"I want you to know I'll always be here to protect you... No matter what happens... I'll always be yours." Legoshi smiles and you stare at his fangs. You realize you need to calm down... You don't want to think of this right now.

Will he really hurt those around you? Was it just a "heat of the moment" kind of thing?

"Legoshi..." You call, seeing the wolf perk up again. You gently stroke his cheek and the wolf leans into the touch with a sigh. "I... I need to shower then I'm heading to bed."

"Is that what you want?" Legoshi tilts his head while sitting up. "We... We don't have to do anything else if you don't want to, Of course!"

"I'm tired and you still need to heal." You admit, sitting up properly to release yourself from the wolf. "Let's... Discuss this another time?"

You see the wolf's ear pin down for a moment before he nods. Perhaps he is moving too fast with you. That's okay... He can wait.

"Sure... Have a nice shower." He looks away, allowing you to leave. As you both part, you both wonder what this means for the both of you.

Will this make you both happy...?

Or will you and those around you just get hurt in the process of Legoshi's fantasies.

#yandere beastars #yandere legoshi #yandere beastars imagines

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jeewrites · 2 days

Text

Hold Fast | Ch. 5 - Five Courses

Series Master List

Rating: M, but this blog is 18+ MDNI

A/N: Frankie and Sweets finally go on their date! I do not recommend reading this when you are hungry. Ty to @bloviating-vy for beta-ing and providing all the emotional support one needs for writing fanfic lol.

Word Count: ~5.6K

Tags: no y/n, alcohol, gymbff!Benny, OC!Chloé, reader is a powerlifting girlie described as short and has hair long enough to put into a ponytail, reader's nickname is Sweets, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar, Pope owns a gym, Frankie POV, kissing, making out, gratuitous descriptions of food, Sweets eats like a powerlifter, angst that resolves by the end of the chapter, discussion of previous relationships, implied past abusive relationship (not described), cliffhanger-ish?

<< prev next >>

After you leave on Sunday, Frankie spends the rest of the weekend scouring the internet for the latest, fanciest restaurants in the greater metropolitan area. He's determined to make up for canceling on you at the last minute and go all out for you after everything you've done to care for Gabi and him. Tucking into another bowl of your magical chicken noodle soup, Frankie sighs at his laptop after clicking through tasting menu after 7 course menu after kaiseki menu after some weird pop-up dinner theater. Yeah, no. This isn't it.

And a small part, ok large part of him, wants to impress you, but he's at a loss as to how since he doesn't know you well enough. Surely as a doctor you are used to living the good life, dining at fancy places, right? What would not just be good enough for you, but impress you? His phone buzzes with a text from Benny in the group chat about a new PR lift and that's when an idea pops into Frankie's head. After a brief exchange with Benny he shuts his laptop and readies for bed. He has a plan.

Just as you are sitting down to scarf down your lunch later that week, your phone vibrates with a text from your favorite brown-eyed pilot.

[text conversation]

😻🐟: Hey, so what kind of food do you like? 🏋🏻‍♀️: Yes 😻🐟: ???

🏋🏻‍♀️: I have to eat so much to fuel for 🏋️‍♀️, so yeah, I like food. 🏋🏻‍♀️: 🍜🍳🥩🍔🌮🥟🍣🎂🍩🍪🍮🧁🥐🫔🍧 🏋🏻‍♀️: I don't do sandwiches though 😻🐟: Roger that 🫡

😻🐟: Be ready to eat okay? Might want to wear something stretchy. Prepare yourself. 😉 🏋🏻‍♀️: 🫡 say no more. I have the perfect outfit. 😈 😻🐟: Pick you up Saturday at 4:30? I know it's early, but trust me ok? 🏋🏻‍♀️: 💃🏻💃🏻

You spend the rest of your break smiling into your lunch wondering what Frankie has planned for Saturday. The weekend couldn't come soon enough.

On Saturday, at 4:25 PM you hear a soft knock at your front door. Swinging the door open you're greeted by an enormous arrangement of dahlias, a stunning ombre of purple, pink, and fuchsia hues, a grinning Frankie peeking from over the top.

"For you," he says with a winning smile as he hands you the arrangement.

You're speechless. You didn't think he'd remember you whispering to him, nearly three weeks ago, what your favorite flowers are. And how did he know these are your favorite colors? Chase never remembered your favorite flowers despite the years you were together. He probably gave you flowers less than five times in the entirety of your relationship.

"You remembered," you breathe, looking up at him. "Frankie, they're beautiful."

"I do my best to remember the important things," Frankie huffs, cheeks pinking at your compliment. You catch him flick his eyes over your form, biting his lower lip. "And you're prettier than the flowers. You look — wow."

It's your turn for your cheeks to heat before you invite him in for a moment while you find the best spot to place the arrangement (you decide on your dining table so you can look at it every morning while you drink your coffee). The dahlias are arranged like a piece of art, exploding with color against the drab colors of your apartment. You could look at them all day.

"Sooo, where are we going this early?" you venture, finally taking your eyes off of the flowers and running your eyes over Frankie, admiring the way the navy button down shirt stretches deliciously across his broad chest and the khakis he's wearing hugs his hips and thighs. Curls accentuated with product. And surprisingly no hat.

"I'll tell you when we get in the truck," Frankie grins at you.

"Okay, Mr. Mysterious," you huff with a small smile as you grab your bag.

When you get to his truck he insists on opening the door for you and offering a hand as you climb in. As he settles into the driver's seat and starts the truck, he hands you a beige piece of folded card stock, printed to look like a menu. The cover reads, "Frankie's Food Truck Tour" in elegant script across the front.

You gape at him, excitement bubbling up your entire body. "You're taking me on a food truck tour?!?"

"Yup," Frankie responds, popping the 'p.' "Someone might’ve mentioned you love food trucks and hole in the wall restaurants. So I'm taking you to all the best ones I know about."

You're practically vibrating with anticipation as you open the card and gasp at the listed courses on the food tour.

Frankie's Food Truck Tour

First Course - Taco de Carnitas 🌮 Heirloom blue corn tortilla from house made masa, slow braised pork shoulder, pickled shallots, chicharrons

Second Course - Empanada Colombiana Braised beef, potato in fried corn flour crust

Third Course - Sunday Sauce with Fresh Tagliatelle 12 hour simmered ragu with fresh made tagliatelle

Fourth Course - Soup Dumplings ground pork, blue crab

Fifth Course - Gua Bao braised pork belly, pickled mustard greens, toasted crushed peanuts in steamed bun

Dessert - Italian Water Ice

You are so very glad you wore your fancy stretchy clothes because this is a veritable feast of all of your favorite things. You weren't joking when you told Frankie you liked to eat. Plus today's SBD day was max effort sets, so you are ready to inhale some food. But you are also so moved by his thoughtfulness, planning such a creative first date. Who told him about your love of food trucks and hole in the wall spots?

As Frankie eases onto the main road, he swallows before asking, "Does it look okay?"

"Okay? This is amazing Frankie! It's so thoughtful." You look at him with watery eyes. "No one's done something like this for me in a long time." You might have let out a little sniffle because he's glancing at you with concern etched across his handsome face.

"Hey," he soothes, sliding a hand into yours. "It's my pleasure."

He presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture makes you melt inside at the sweetness. You intertwine your fingers in his, wanting to stay connected to him and you catch him smile when you do.

"Wait, so who told you I like food trucks?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

"Oh uh, I — I asked Chloé," Frankie's ears reddened at his admission. "I checked with Benny to see when she usually works out at Pope's and, uh, talked to her earlier this week."

You hum in response, impressed that Frankie would voluntarily approach Chloé considering most regulars at Pope's Gym wouldn't dare. She intimidated everyone too much.

"It was weird though. Benny acted like he didn't want me to talk to her until I told him it was to plan my date with you." Frankie continues, tapping the steering wheel.

"Huh," you wonder, filing that bit of information away. "Wonder why."

Frankie shrugs as he pulls the truck into a gravel parking lot. A half circle of food trucks sit just in front of a copse of trees, surrounded by picnic tables. Several other cars pull up shortly after you arrive and a queue starts to form at one of the food trucks on the far end.

"Ready for the first course?" Frankie grins at you as he opens the passenger door.

"Born ready, Frankie," you grin at him with barely contained glee.

By the third course, you and Frankie are both completely relaxed and enjoying each other's company, allowing the conversation to ebb and flow between food truck courses.

The carnitas tacos whet your appetite, a perfect balance of succulent pork shoulder topped with crispy chicharrones. Pickled shallots cut the tender, savory bites with crisp acid that dance along your tongue. Charred tomatillo salsa rounds out the bite. All perfectly wrapped in a freshly griddled blue corn tortilla. You can't help but close your eyes and let out a small moan as you experience the first bite. A cacophony of well-balanced flavors and complementary textures. When you open them again you catch Frankie with a pleased look on his face as he takes a bite out of his own taco.

At the second stop, Frankie asks why you don't do sandwiches as you chomp into a piping hot empanada. The corn flour crust crunches with satisfaction giving way to the tender braised beef and fluffy potato filling. Steam curls from the opening of the empanada, a testament to how freshly made it is.

"I mean, why would I want something slapped between two slices of bread when I can have this?" you respond as you gesture to your half eaten empanada. "It's just as portable and tastes a billion times better."

You scoop some of the red salsa onto your empanada before continuing, "Besides, I had way more than my fair share of sandwiches and cold, sad meals during med school and residency. I want my meals to be hot as much as possible."

"But what about hot sandwiches?" Frankie presses, even though he nods in agreement.

"I'll make an exception for them if they are really tasty," you acquiesce. "And bánh mì, especially if the baguette is baked fresh in house."

"Duly noted," Frankie smiles, taking mental note of your preferences.

"Oh my god, you have to try this salsa," you moan after you finish your salsa covered bite of empanada. The acid from the tomato cuts through the richness of the filling, followed by sharp bites from the minced white onion, finished by a hint of sweetness — maybe from pineapple?

"Wait, don't tell me you're a fan of sandwiches."

Frankie looks slightly embarrassed when he admits he eats most of his meals standing over the kitchen sink, especially when he has Gabi, but the food is usually at least hot. "I do love cooking meals for Gabi and introducing her to all of our family's foods," he adds. "She's a really adventurous eater."

You perk up at his information. "Yeah? That's so awesome Frankie. Maybe I can make her some of my family's favorites sometime?"

He gives you the sweetest look of adoration and gratitude. "She'd love that. I — I would too."

You continue to chat with Frankie about how Gabi is doing since you last saw her as he tidies up the picnic table, and you both head to his truck for the next course.

When Frankie pulls up at the third food truck, you giggle and remark at the kitschy decor, multi-color string lights, barrels painted the colors of the Italian flag, red umbrellas shading long wooden picnic tables and smaller red metal patio tables for two. The food truck itself is a long white truck reminiscent of an old milk delivery truck. Short velvet red curtains frame the ordering window with a mismatched gallery wall of photos and paintings hanging along the side.

As you and Frankie sit at a cute red patio table sharing a sangria, waiting for the buzzer to go off to retrieve your food, you hear a woman's voice call out, "Morales?! That you?"

"Hey— " Frankie stands to greet the person behind the voice before a blur of brown hair wraps him in a tight bear hug he returns awkwardly with one arm.

"Finally made it out to check out this place huh??" the brunette says as she pulls back and releases Frankie.

"Yeah, uh, thanks for the rec. This is Sweets," Frankie gestures towards you as you stand to meet her. "This is Becs. She's one of the flight nurses I work with."

"Ooh, date night?" Becs winks at Frankie as she pumps your hand up and down one too many times. "Didn't realize you were seeing anyone Morales. Gonna break all those hearts at the hospital when people find out." You offer her a wan smile, a bit overwhelmed by her chaotic energy.

"Wait! I know you," Becs cocks her head as she assesses you intently. You stiffen even if you don't recognize her. Before you know it she's dropping the name of your former employer, adding, "Yeah, I used to work as an OR nurse there, but jumped at the chance to become a flight nurse. Less surgeon egos, more excitement, ya know?" She gesticulates with fervor as she speaks.

"Yeah, uh, I worked there," you admit, realizing you've been holding your breath. "Been over a year since I left though."

She looks you over once more. Just when you think you're in the clear she snaps her fingers and exclaims, "I do know you! You were engaged to that new trauma surgeon, what's his name!"

Your heart is in your throat and you can't move. Can't breathe. Is this really happening right now? What are the chances you'd run into someone who'd recognize you from your old job right the fuck now?

"I'll never forget how you made a surgeon get on his knees so fast," she smirks. "It's not every day you see someone throw a $50k diamond ring across the cafeteria."

Really, what are the chances you'd run into someone who witnessed the moment your engagement exploded spectacularly in front of what felt like everyone at work? Over a year ago? You can't look at Frankie. This isn't how you want him to find out. Not that you were exactly hiding it from him, but wasn't this like a third date kind of conversation? What did you know, you're so out of the loop on dating things these days. Because you're old. Broken? No one's going to want you, your mother's voice hisses up from the abyss of your mind.

"Well, it's not every day you catch your fiancé cheating on you, at work," you grit out as you find your spine.

"Yeah, bummer about that." Becs waves you off. "It was hilarious watching him crawl around on his knees trying to find that ring though."

She slaps Frankie on the shoulder and says something about seeing him at work before tossing you a nice to meet you and jets off as abruptly as she appeared.

You brave a glance at Frankie, but not really seeing him with the adrenaline flooding your system. "I —"

"Sweets —"

Of course the food buzzer decides this is the most opportune moment to go off, shocking you back into yourself as it dances erratically on the metal table top flashing red like a siren. Frankie slides a hand over the buzzer and picks it up as he walks around the table to stand in front of you. With his other hand he gently cups the side of your face.

"Sweets, you don't have to explain. It's ok. Breathe."

You swallow and let out a stuttery breath as you clasp a hand over his. His hand is warm and comforting against your skin, steady unlike your heart pounding through your chest. The buzzer continues to flash red and vibrate, muted now in his other hand. When you look up, his warm brown eyes only convey care and concern at your thinly veiled panic. Full blown panic, really. You're practically shaking.

"Hey," his voice is soft like when he speaks to Gabi. "It's okay. I'm going to go grab our food and when I get back you can tell me as much or as little as you want. Whenever you're ready. Or we can just go back to talking about how much we hate sandwiches, okay?"

"I— you— okay," is all you can manage, followed by a small nod, eyes still wide with panic, even with his attempt at humor. Coherent sentences are back to being a struggle apparently.

"We all have baggage, Sweets. I mean, I have a whole ex-wife and toddler, remember?" He gives you one more understanding smile before telling you not to go anywhere as he heads to the food truck to collect your food.

How are you supposed to eat anything right now? Your heart is in your throat and your stomach is in knots. You plop down in your chair as the adrenaline recedes, replaced by a wave of dread at what to possibly say to Frankie when he returns. At some point you did plan to tell him, but what happened spans several conversations, none appropriate for a first date. You try to ground yourself in what he said before he went to retrieve the food. It's okay. He has baggage too. He's okay with you telling him what you’re ready to tell him. What the fuck are you ready to tell him?

When Frankie arrives at Pope's Gym to catch Chloé and ask for her help in dinner ideas for his date with you, he isn't prepared for Benny acting so cagey and weird.

"Hey, Benny," Frankie greets Benny at the front desk with a familiar dap of the fist.

"Fish," a rare one word response from Benny, the more loquacious of the two Miller brothers.

"She here?"

"Sweets or Chloé?" Benny asks, feigning ignorance even though Frankie literally just texted him the day before asking when Chloé usually worked out at Pope's.

"For God's sake Ben, I'm looking for Chloé." Frankie glares at Benny before rolling his eyes. "To help me plan my date with Sweets. What's gotten into you?"

"Oh. Right, yeah she's here," Benny mumbles nodding in Chloé's general direction before sulking away.

As Frankie treks over, he notes the message on her cut off shirt declaring, "I'M A RAY OF FUCKING SUNSHINE." Chloé's covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing hard as she finishes a set of medicine ball slams.

"I'm pretending this is your head," she mutters at Frankie as he approaches. "For canceling on Sweets the day of without telling her why."

Frankie decides to stop a generous distance away from Chloé. He lifts his cap and runs his fingers through his curls, a nervous tic, before replacing the cap on his head. "Yeah, um, that really was my bad. Uh, that's — that's actually why I'm here."

He swears the glare Chloé gives him could kill.

"And why should I help you." It's not a question, but a challenge.

"I want to really impress her and go all out for her this Saturday to make-up for canceling," he continues before pausing. "Especially since she took such good care of my daughter and me when Gabi got sick last week. Which is — which is why I canceled at the last minute."

Chloé gives him a non-committal grunt, brows still furrowed, but her eyes motion for him to continue.

"I thought about taking her to some of those fancy tasting menu places, but I realize I don't know what she really likes… If she'd be into that."

"I mean, who doesn't like a fancy meal once in a while?" Chloé scoffs and shifts her weight from side to side, as if she's trying to decide whether to divulge more and help Frankie out. "But Sweets isn't into the fancy shit the way she is into food trucks and hole in the wall spots. The woman is always on the hunt for the best tacos or dumplings or whatever in the area."

Frankie nods along intently to what Chloé shares and takes detailed mental notes. You truly are a woman after his own heart.

"You should see her on vacation trying to suss out the best local eats. You always know you're going to eat well with her." Chloé glares back at Frankie before concluding with a threat for good measure. "You hurt her and I'll kill you. She's — she's been through enough. She doesn't need another guy wrecking her life."

Frankie appreciates a direct woman. And the tip about some guy wrecking your life. He stores that one away along with the threat.

"I just want to go all out for her. She deserves the best," he manages. "Gonna try my hardest not to fuck it up."

"Good," Chloé resumes picking up the medicine ball and raising it overhead before slamming it down on the ground. How does someone make everything sound like a threat?

"That still my head?" Frankie ventures looking at the medicine ball.

"Depends," Chloé huffs back at him, but he thinks he catches her smirking at him for a moment. "On how well you take care of my friend."

As Frankie thanks Chloé and turns to leave, he catches Benny hiding behind the cable tower machine watching the entire interaction, pretending to wipe down the gym equipment. Benny never cleans a goddamn thing unless it is a weapon.

"You're gonna take the paint off the metal," Frankie whispers to Benny as he walks by.

"Huh?"

Frankie shoves Benny out from behind the cable tower, "See you later, Benny boy. Good luck with that," as he motions with his eyes towards Chloé.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Benny calls back after catching himself from falling on his face in front of Chloé.

Frankie just shakes his head and beelines it to his truck. He has a food truck tour to plan.

When Frankie returns with a giant pile of fresh tagliatelle smothered in Sunday sauce, your stomach turns even if ragu is one of your favorite things. He sets everything down gently as if he is afraid to spook you with any sudden movements or sounds.

"I — I wasn't trying to hide my ex-fiancé from you," you blurt out without thinking. Smooth start there, tiger. Real smooth. You worry your hands in your lap to hold back the rising waves of anxiety. "I just thought failed engagements are more like a third date kinda conversation."

"Didn't think ya were," Frankie responds as he settles back into his chair. He slides a large hand across the table beckoning for you to place one of your hands in his. After a beat you slide a hand into his. It's warm and grounding. You find your shoulders relaxing away from your ears a smidge, and your stomach settles.

"I meant it when I said you don't have to tell me anymore than you're ready to," he reassures before something you said clicks, and he beams at you. "You'd go on a third date with me?"

You can't help but offer a small grin back, "I'd let you take me on as many dates as you want if they're anything like this, Frankie."

"Minus the co-worker with the big mouth." Frankie is full of jokes. "Too soon?"

You suppress a giggle bubbling up from your throat. "I guess that means you're not going to take me home after this?"

"Not unless you want me to, Sweets," Frankie squeezes your hand. "I'm having the best time."

Your stomach rumbles at this exact moment in response and Frankie laughs, tummy shaking laughter, wondering out loud how you are still hungry after tacos and empanadas.

"I told you I like to eat!" You cross your arms in mock indignation as Frankie wipes away tears of laughter and hands you a fork.

As you both dig into the pile of pasta, marveling at the depth of flavor a 12 hour simmer gives the ragu, you take the opportunity to ask Frankie about his work as an EMS pilot. His entire body is buoyant with excitement when he talks about flying, brown eyes bright with passion. You can tell the two loves of his life are Gabi and flying by the way he speaks about both.

"The hours aren't terrible, 12 hour shifts, 4 days on and 3 days off, with a lot of waiting around. But at least I'm not getting shot at now when I fly," Frankie shares, adding how his parents help watch Gabi when he has custody and has to work. Your breath hitches at the thought of anyone shooting at sweet Frankie.

"Next stop?" he tries to change the subject when he catches your worried expression.

You nod and attempt to help clear the table, but Frankie insists you don't lift a finger.

The next two stops fly by as Frankie tells you about the owners of the soup dumpling take-out window, former cooks at some Taiwanese chain making its way into the U.S.

"Ooo yes, DTF! I've been to one of their locations before!" you exclaim.

His eyebrows curve upward in confusion, "Wait, I thought DTF meant... something else??"

"Ohmygosh, DTF — Din Tai Fung!" you cackle. "Their soup dumplings are to die for."

Frankie admits he hasn't ever eaten a soup dumpling before as you lift the lid and a cloud of savory steam erupts from the bamboo steamer basket. You offer him two options that won't involve near boiling broth burning his mouth off. After all, you have... plans for that mouth.

"Next time we have to try the pork and shrimp ones too," Frankie tells you as he opens the passenger door for you. Seeing his eyes light up after the first bite and slurp of soup dumpling, you know he is a convert for life.

At the last stop he slides an arm around your shoulders as you sit side by side on a park bench splitting one extra-large gua bao, too full to each have your own. It’s the size of your face instead of the standard appetizer size. Frankie insists you take the first bite of the pillowy soft steamed bun, a vehicle for the unctuous braised pork belly, pickled mustard greens, and toasted crushed peanuts. The umami of spiced soy sauce carries forward balanced notes of anise and cinnamon with a not too sweet caramel finish of hoisin and brown sugar. A savory symphony of flavors in your mouth.

"That good huh," Frankie smiles as you let out a groan.

"Mmph," is all you can manage, eyes closed, savoring the bite with a happy food wiggle.

You offer the bao up to him, angled so he can get the perfect bite, the scruff on his chin tickling your fingers as he takes an exaggerated bite.

"Fuch, ish good," he mumbles, mouth full and sauce dripping out the corner of his mouth.

When you brush your thumb to wipe the sauce away, the pink triangle of his tongue peeks out to lick your finger clean. Your eyes flick up and catch a dark, mischievous look across Frankie's face that makes you want to combust on the fucking spot. You distract yourself by taking another bite of the bao before offering the last bite to him.

He sighs in contentment when the food is finished and pulls you closer to him, tucking you to his side. It's warm and safe here snuggled against him with his strong arm draped over your shoulder as you idly watch other diners nearby. Safe enough you weigh the risk of ruining the moment by sharing about your painful past.

"Can I tell you a little bit about... what happened a year ago?" you ask, voice quiet, looking up at him.

Frankie returns your gaze, "Of course."

"Ok," you drop your gaze to your hands and take a deep breath before continuing. "We, um, met in college. Both of us pre-med... and just dorks with the same goals you know?"

You tell Frankie about Chase, how he changed from a sweet college boy to someone you didn't recognize as you went through med school and residency. "I was so afraid of being alone, I ignored the red flags and how we were growing apart until he went out of state for his fellowship and I stayed here. That’s when I realized I was happier on my own than when he would visit."

You peek up at Frankie through your lashes and realize he's been looking at you and listening intently the entire time. "But it took catching him cheating for me to leave."

You shudder at the memory of the night you tried to leave and the weeks that passed before you finally could. That is a story for another day. Frankie tightens his grip around your shoulders as he releases a sharp exhale through his nose when you stop talking.

"I appreciate you sharin' all that with me, Sweets," he says, pausing as if he isn't sure what he wants to say next. His thumb on your shoulder tracing slow circles on your skin.

"I guess I spent the last year working on myself and figuring out what I want now in a relationship," you continue.

"And what's that?"

"Where I can be myself and not have to cut off pieces to fit someone else's idea of who I should be — accepted for being me," the last part you say wistfully.

"As you should be. You're amazing, you know that?"

"Depends who you ask," you respond, quirking a smile up at him. "But I like myself alright now."

Frankie shares a bit about where things went south with Vanessa, his struggles with learning how to single parent. They had been high school sweethearts and stayed together, though he admits he felt like they were growing apart even before he joined Delta Force. How they tried to stick it out when Vanessa got pregnant with Gabi, but eventually realizing it was better for everyone if they separated.

You pull his arm tighter around you when you feel him hesitate and start to pull back after sharing about his own relationship history.

"Thanks for telling me."

"Not too much?" Frankie asks, eyes etched with worry.

"You're never too much for me, Frankie."

He visibly relaxes before asking, "Would getting dessert be too much?"

"Never," you say as you stand and offer your hands to pull him up. "Don't you know I have a whole separate stomach for dessert?"

The dessert course is a small takeaway window for Italian water ice just off the broad walk along the beach. You weigh the flavor options, debating between mango and passion fruit, before finally deciding on mango. Frankie picks passion fruit without hesitation.

He gives you a knowing smile and wink when you raise an eyebrow to his choice, "Figure that way you'll get to try both flavors." Is it possible to simultaneously melt into a puddle and combust from his thoughtfulness?

The velvety smooth ice refreshes as the fruit flavor cleanses your palate from your decadent dinner. You both make your way down the broad walk at a leisurely pace, sharing bites of yours with Frankie as he feeds you bites of his.

“Not too sweet?” he asks with a grin, knowing your bar for the ideal dessert.

“Not too sweet,” you confirm with a pleased smile.

He offers you the last spoon of his dessert, which you accept without hesitation because your sweet tooth is the boss, before he takes both your empty cups and tosses them into the trash. You intertwine your fingers in his as you continue your stroll, turning down one of the piers and walking down part of the way.

“Think this might be the best first date I’ve ever been on,” you smile at him, eye to eye as you lean back and balance on the lowest rung of the railing. His strong arms cage you in on both sides, protective as if you might possibly fall into the water below.

“Yeah?” He breathes back, curls whipped wild by the ocean’s breeze, brown eyes anchored to yours. “What would make it definitely the best first date you’ve ever been on?”

“If you kissed me right now.” The tip of your tongue wets your lower lip as your gaze flicks to his plush lips curving into a small smile at your words.

Frankie smooths your hair back before cupping your cheek with one hand. “Think I can manage that.” He presses the line of his body against you as he slots his mouth against yours, gently at first, until you open for him to lick into your mouth. A soft moan escapes your throat. He kisses you harder, his other large hand snaking up the middle of you back to cup your neck, holding you in place. You reach your hands to run your fingers through his curls, such soft curls, tugging to keep him pressed against you. When he lets out a soft moan you realize he likes it when you do that.

Your foot slips when someone suddenly catcalls the two of you, followed by a "GET A ROOM!" But Frankie catches you with his quick reflexes, holding you tight against him. "I got you, baby," he reassures, voice breathy and soft. Baby. You practically melt at the endearment. And because he's now nuzzling the sensitive spot behind your ear with the delicious curve of his nose, peppering kisses down the column of your neck.

"Frankie," your voice comes out breathy like you've just sprinted down the broad walk. You repeat his name when he continues to pepper you with kisses.

"Hmm," he rumbles against your neck.

"We're in public." A giggle escapes your throat.

His eyes flick up to yours, black pupils edging out the brown you get lost in, expression intense. Hungry, but not for food. He wraps an arm around your waist and places you gently back on solid ground.

"I can fix that, baby," he murmurs. Pressing a kiss to your temple and tucking your hair behind your ear, he steers you by the small of your back and leads you back to his truck.

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Endnote: Sweet's relationship with her ex-fiance is partially inspired by this quote from Robin Williams: "I used to think that the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel alone."

Hi hi, did ya miss me? I missed YOU. Been adjusting to a new job and the absolute fatigue from training has me beat (summer powerlifting competition wee!). But I’m so glad Frankie and Sweets finally went on their date and ate so well. It’s funny, but I’ve mostly written the last chapter and I just need to get them there. I’m learning that all the stuff between is uh, the hard part. Also, I still haven’t wrapped my head around writing smut, but we’ll see. At least they kinda made out? Lol. Thanks for reading if you’ve made it this far. It means the world to this newbie fanfic writer. Taglist is open! You know you wanna! xoxo, Jee

Taglist: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held @littlemisspascal

@burntheedges @darkheartgatita @enretrogue @titabel

@copperhalfcent @triplefrontier-anniversary

#hold fast a frankie x powerlifting!reader fanfic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #happy frankie friday #frankie friday

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