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doromoni · 1 month

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Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1

Act 2 . Part 2 : For the World to See

Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance

Warning : Morally Grey Characters , Swearing

A/N : Buckle up , folks! This one’s smth else.

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 go off track and only one will reign victorious.

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Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

All are fair in love and war. An overused idiom, but one that you believed was necessary for the actions you were about to do. You knew that it was wrong to use Max to get back on Lewis. But you were not perfect, far from it.

Not when your vision had clouded red as you looked at the picture that flashed on your phone’s screen. It was a photo of Lewis kissing another girl in a bar. It hasn’t been a month since your split with Lewis and he had the fucking audacity to pull this shit.

What’s worse is that over in that same month, Lewis had been trying to reach out and kept saying that he was sorry and that he’d change. Gifts and flowers kept appearing and delivered to your new apartment with written notes from Lewis. For some time, you considered taking the British driver back.

You even became guilty for the fact that your relationship with Max was developing into something more.

Now, you were glad that you started talking to the Dutch Red Bull Driver. It didn’t hurt that you found Max extremely attractive and desirable.

You couldn’t help it , the Dutch driver was aggressive and a menace on track, but when the helmet went off — he was the sweetest and the most caring partner a girl could ask for. The Max you’ve gotten to know, even for a short period was the perfect distraction.

It all started after you left your apartment with Lewis you went straight to Milton Keynes to meet with Christian Horner , where you bumped into Max.

He was doing a routine check-up, just to ensure that he was perfectly ok after the crash at Silverstone.

You felt partly at fault for his crash and guilt had driven you to apologize even if it wasn’t your actual doing. Max had laughed it off and jokingly said that he’d forgive you if you went out for coffee with him. And to your surprise, you found yourself agreeing.

The coffee went great, and your conversation with Max was easy. His humor was dry, yet you find yourself laughing and enjoying your time with the Dutch Driver.

“I watched Christian Horner, waiting for you to come out of Mercedes and act like he didn’t expect you when you bumped into him” Max exaggerated.

“Mhmm… your team principal would turn stalker mode just to tell me that I did a good job “ You laughed as you rolled your eyes at the handsome driver.

“I swear, Y/N. Checo and I were passing by and Christian was crouched down behind a bush! “

Max bluffed. Making you double over laughing.

Your coffee with Max then turned to lunch and lunch turned into dinner. Then that turned into traveling to Monaco in his private jet to attend the party for the drivers and team principals.

The speed of the development of your relationship with Max was starting to scare you. You and Lewis just broke up , you didn’t want to take advantage of Max’s affection for you.

You were staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your makeup was exquisite and your hair was perfectly done. The dress that Max bought for you fits like a glove. You looked perfect. But you couldn’t help but feel the pit in your stomach grow.

You knew that you would be facing Lewis and Toto at some point tonight and honestly you weren’t sure that you were ready just yet.

But You didn’t want them to see you as weak and helpless . If they could move on easily then you’ll play along. You’ll beat them at their own game.

With a final swipe of lipstick. You were ready

“Max?” You called out to the room

“Am in the living room” Max replied

You walked out of the bathroom and headed your way towards Max. Your Louboutin heels clicked with every step on the marble floor.

As you neared the Dutch Driver. His head turns towards you and his eyes widen as they travel your form, repeatedly.

Max made his way towards you. You were both silent. Max took your hand and he brought it to his lips, kissing the inside of your wrist — your eye contact never breaking.

“Gorgeous, you look absolutely beautiful” Max uttered spinning you slowly.

“Thank you. You look handsome Max” You said a bit breathless. Handsome was an understatement, Max looked like a Greek god. Not many times do people see him outside RedBull uniforms, but when they do, people gawk at the driver — you were no exception.

“I love you in black, have I told you that?” You said as you slid your hands up Max’s chest feeling every muscle on your path.

“Mhm, you have. Have you noticed that I’ve been wearing just that recently?” Max countered as he pulled you closer by the waist.

“ I have, and I never did thank you. And I’m sure that your fans thank you too.” You winked at the Red Bull driver, making him chuckle and roll his eyes

“The thirst traps are everywhere, don’t remind me” At that you couldn’t help but laugh as you had sent him some links.

“ Toughen up, you’ll be getting more when you’re World Champion”

“When, not If? you’re that confident in me?” Max grip strengthened without him noticing. You knew that he had issues believing in himself. And you knew who was the reason for that.

“Yes, When. Your potential is unlike any other Max! I believe that you will be breaking records and earning championships left and right one day. “ You truly believed what you said. You felt Max kiss your temple as he whispered “Thank you, Y/N.”

Max was never the speaking kind when it came to emotions. So his opening up even a little was an enormous step.

What did that mean for your blurry relationship? You didn’t know. But it was a step somewhere for sure.

“Now come on! We’re already late.” You tugged on Max’s hand towards the door of his suite.

***

Arriving at the venue, your nerves had finally set in and you were starting to feel a little anxious.

“Hey, are you alright? We can ditch the party if you don’t feel like it” Max whispered to you concerned.

You have never been used to being in fancy balls all glammed up, even in your time with Mercedes and Lewis being your boyfriend. Being that your relationship was kept a secret, you have never joined Lewis to the Galas and Balls.

But now, Max Verstappen was guiding you towards the entrance with pride — not shying away from the cameras and the people who greeted us. He was proud to show you off.

“No, no. Just a bit apprehensive seeing Toto, that’s all” you said back

“Oh! Are you nervous that when you see him you’ll shred him to pieces? Got it” Max tried to joke. You couldn’t help but laugh as you affectionately hit his chest lightly.

“Exactly that! You do get me, Max Emilian Verstappen” You joked back, feeling thankful for Max.

“But really, don’t be scared. I’m here and I promise to protect you. No matter what”

You gazed up at the Dutch driver with so much emotion.

“Thank you, Max” Now it was your turn to say thank you.

You and Max had led yourselves toward the drivers of Ferrari

“Max! You’re finally here!” Charles exclaimed not fully realizing that you were there. His eyes lingered on you as if he was trying to know who you were.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to realize. Max was amused, while Carlos had finally figured out who you were.

“Y/N??” The monegasque driver gasped

“Took you long enough, Charles” You smiled at the Ferrari driver, while Max and Carlos had their conversation.

You and Charles weren’t that close but you two were friends, because of Seb. While you and Seb were close to a certain degree — you had been there during his battle with Lewis and you just naturally formed a friendship around that.

“I haven’t been seeing you in Mercedes. Is everything all right?” Charles asked.

“The NDA stops me from saying anything. But all I can say is that I’m happy that I left” You explained to Charles with a dry chuckle.

And forever the gossiper, Charles could not help but ask

“So is it true? You’re moving to Red Bull?”

“Well ~ you need to find out for yourself eh?” You winked at the Monaco-born driver. You have grown thirsty so you went to get something to drink.

Max looked like he was in deep conversation still with Carlos, so you just went your way.

As you ventured your way towards the refreshments, you were stopped by heathen himself, The boss that tried to screw you over.

Toto fucking Wolff.

Your feeling of anxiety had turned to hatred and anger in an instant. Maybe Max was right with you ripping the Mercedes Principal to shreds.

“ It’s a surprise to see you here, Y/L. Did Red Bull send you an invitation? “ Toto said with hidden condescension.

You chuckled at the audacity. He was once again trying to belittle you.

“ I find that hard to believe, considering that you monitor my every step. Heard about Red Bull huh? Keeping tabs on me Wolff? Scared to lose? ” You mockingly tutted the principal.

“Why would I even do that? Mercedes is better without you! Good fucking riddance . We will win this Championship without you!“ Toto rebutted, the anger in his face was rising.

“Mhmm, sure. Now say that again , this time like you actually believe it” you said so patronizingly with the sweetest, tooth-rotting smile you could muster.

“FUCK YOU!” Bingo! Toto fucking Wolff had reached his limits. And for the first time, you enjoyed every last bit.

But you were nowhere near finished.

“Aww, thanks! Fuck you too. But please do tell me, Toto, just how much money did you lose when investors started pulling out when I left?” The sweet smile on your lips turned menacing

You were in the hell hole of Mercedes for 6 years, you knew their sore spots like it’s the back of your hand. And money was one of them.

“ You know Torger, one might ask, if you say your specialty is managing a business and you’re losing money now. Would that mean that your existence in Mercedes is fucking useless?” You asked with faux interest, a finger underneath your chin as a Cheshire grin spread across your face.

You could see the red rising in the Mercedes Principal’s Face and any minute now he would explode in rage.

“Oh! And also, how’s next year’s car going for you?” And you did just that. You broke Toto fucking Wolff in front of everyone.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH! HOW DARE YOU? I SWEAR I’LL KI—“ Toto had started to close the distance between the two of you with his fist inbound.

But before he could land a blow at you, He was forcefully pulled at the collar and restrained with an arm twisted to his back.

And it was all done by Max Verstappen. He had been watching you the entire time and he believed that you could hold your own. He knew that you could fight your own battles. But even then Max knew when to step up and save you from getting hurt.

However, no matter how much Max tried to protect you, he was still one person. He could prevent Lewis Hamilton from dragging you somewhere where no one was to see.

“What the fuck Y/N?? What even was that?!” Lewis bombarded you with questions. His grip on your wrist proved to be painful by the second

“Fucking let go of me, Lewis!” You yanked your hand away from him.

“What are you even doing here with Verstappen?! Seriously Y/N?? Crashstappen? Out of everyone you chose the enemy? We just broke up and now you’re all over him?” Lewis said so venomously, and with so much disgust that would’ve probably hurt you if anger didn’t consume your system

“You’re the one to talk Lewis!! You’re the first one to fucking dip your dick into another girl! You don’t have the right to judge me! “

“So is this how it is, Y/N? YOU'RE CHOOSING HIM OVER ME?!” Lewis went hysterical and you were just the same and neither of you cared if anyone were to hear you.

“You know what Lewis?! Yes, I’m choosing Max over you! Because, unlike you, He makes do with his promises and he isn’t embarrassed to call me his!”

You stormed out on Lewis. Tears were rolling down your face — you were not sad no, you were angry and frustrated about everything about your past from Mercedes to Lewis Hamilton.

You found yourself inside the lady's room, walking back and forth. You looked at yourself in the mirror and mascara had run down your cheeks. You have tried to wipe it when you heard a voice from outside.

“Y/N? Are you ok in there? Can we talk? ” Max knocks from the other side of the bathroom door. His voice held concern and panic

You slowly opened the door, facing the Dutch driver who was clad in an expensive Italian suit, perfectly tailored for his form.

“Max … before anything happens. I need to tell you something about Lewis and me” You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. Your sights on the shoes that you chose for him.

Your eyes shift upward, as you feel Max’s finger on your chin lifting your face up

“Y/N, I know. And I don’t care” Shock was evident in your face. You thought that your relationship with Lewis was undiscovered. But all this time Max knew

“M-max, I'm so sorry. I swear, I’m not using you as a rebound” You tried to explain yourself. You expected Max to be angry and you left.

But to your surprise, Max‘s hands found their way to your waist pulling you closer. And the words that left his mouth next left you speechless.

“ I don’t care Y/N. As long as I have you by my side, do whatever you want — I’m yours. Use me”

***

“You’ve sent the pictures of Hamilton to her number?”

“Yes , Sir. Verstappen. It’s accomplished.”

Taglist : @vicurious28 @xoscar03 @barnestatic @stelena-klayley @sopheeg @imagandom @4-20-21-12 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @minkyungseokie @d3kstar @kimialaia @cosmicwintr @younxii @ssrcsm @paigem00 @seokjinkismet @wcnorris @jayjay11122 @embersparklz @sam-is-lost @peterholland04 @luckyladycreator2 @lovemesomeescapism @yettobedetermined7 @nikfigueiredo @ironmaiden1313 @alliwantisadonut @uuoozzii @marshmummy @kemillyfreitas @yaesflorist @zoeyjadetice2010 @splaterparty0-0 @likedbygaslyy @myinternettlifeimagine @ilamara @pluviophilefangirl @starssfall @haydensith @adoreleeknw @leilanixx @dr4g0ngirl @forfeityourbugs @choisannyreads @justtprachisblog @felicityforyou

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malarign · 10 months

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crybaby

(when they find you crying)

contains: bf!maknaeline x gn!reader | genre: angsty fluff | tw! crying obv, kissing, low self esteem, appearance insecurities, burn out, stress, lmk if i missed anything! | wc:

reblogs are highly appreciated!

author’s note: sorry it took so long, but i’ll try to post more often now! 😼 also big thank you to @odxrilove for beta reading!

for hyung line version go here!

Kim Sunoo | 김선우

Looking from your computer screen to the window you felt dizzy. All those hours you spent trying to write something that made sense weren’t as productive as you thought they would be. You just stared at your short story helpless, no sensible thoughts came to your mind, causing a few tears to form in your eyes.

Closing your laptop harshly, you hid your face in the palms of your hands and sobbed loudly. Your cries brought attention to Sunoo who’s been busy preparing some warm meal for both of you. He kind of knew something was wrong - you seemed exceptionally stressed and nervous the whole day so he waited patiently for some reaction from you. He ran up to your room, leaving the stove turned off.

He saw you shaking slightly with every sob, sitting quite uncomfortably in front of your now closed computer.

“Sweetheart?” He watched how your head shot up at the nickname. He tried to send you a comforting smile, but at the sight of him you teared up even more. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, gently stroking your hair.

You brought your form closer to him, trying to find comfort in his hug, but even that didn’t seem to help.

“I feel so bad,” you stuttered out. “I don’t feel it anymore, I don’t know how to write,” you cried bitterly.

“What do you mean? You love writing,” he tried to understand, especially since nothing pointed to your sudden burnout.

“I feel like I’m getting lost in between all those words, and I’m so scared, Sunoo. I know nothing apart from writing, it’s my whole life. But now I’m not able to rig up at least one good sentence or even a phrase.”

He felt how a stain of your tears on his T-shirt became bigger and bigger with your every word. He wished he knew how to help you, but none of you truly imagined a moment like this. Writing and storytelling has been your passion for the longest time, he loved every single one of them and always wondered how you were able to give utter to your stories so beautifully.

“Maybe, try to rest for a while,” he said after thinking for a while. “Don’t you think you’ve been pushing yourself a bit too much lately? Burnout doesn’t mean your passion is completely gone, but that you should prioritize yourself now.”

He felt how you nodded slowly. You pulled away from him to wipe your face. Cupping them he planted a sweet peck on your nose and forehead earning a small smile from you.

Yang Jungwon | 양정원

Looking in the mirror you almost didn’t recognize the person who stood in its reflection. They looked at you but at the same time it wasn’t you. Then why did everything tell you this is how you looked?

Without noticing it tears started cascading your cheeks in hot pathways. Your body was far from perfect and you knew it damn well. How could you do that to yourself? How could you neglect your body like this?

Trying to calm down before your boyfriend Jungwon would come back home from work you fanned your face with your palms in hope it would stop your tears from overflowing, but it was self-defeating. It only made you cry harder, disgusted at the thought of him having to bear with you.

“Y/n?” His voice brought your attention. You turned around to face him with tears-stained cheeks and his face grew completely pale. “Y/nie…” he cooed and stepped closer to you.

When he almost had you in his arms you took a few steps back. He looked at you confused, tilting his head in question.

“Do you love me, Jungwon?” you asked once your sobs calmed down a bit.

He froze at his spot, not knowing what hurt him more - you questioning his feelings or the state you were in.

“Of course I love you. So much, Y/n.” You looked down at his words. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no of course you didn’t.” You were quick to respond.

“Then what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked and extended his arm to you. You took his hand hesitantly and he pulled you to him, engulfing you in a comforting hug. “You know you can tell me everything.”

“Why?” you asked, facing him and watched how confusion painted his face again. “Why do you even love me? I’m not pretty, I’m not as talented as you are, I’m not an interesting person at all, so why are you interested in me?” Tears started spilling down your cheeks, but Jungwon was quick to wipe them with a gentle smile.

“My lovely, the thing is I disagree with everything you just said. To me you’re the most beautiful, talented and interesting person I know. I love you for everything and you have no idea how I wish you could see yourself from my point of view. Then you would love yourself just like I love you,” he said, playing with your hair in the meantime.

Looking at his eyes apart from his love for you you saw sincerity, both brought smile to your face again, forgetting about those thoughts for a while.

Nishimura Riki | 西村力

Riki stared at the screen of his phone, waiting for any response from you. It’s been an hour or two since your exam ended, yet there was no message from you saying how it went. The lack of it already told him everything, but the silence from your end made him sick to his stomach.

He finally reached your apartment and quietly opened the front door. Usually he made sure you knew he came over, being loud and cracking jokes just from the moment he stepped inside. Today was different though. He knew what awaits him and prepared for the high possibility of dealing with your sadness. He peeked inside, looking for you and trying to hear any sound of sobs coming from inside. And he indeed heard some sniffles coming from your room along with your playlist for crying.

He took off his shoes and quietly opened the door, minding that at a certain point they creak pretty loudly. The sight made his heart drop. You were laying on your bed with eyes completely red from crying, trying to stop more tears from flowing down.

“Y/nie,” Riki called your name bringing your attention. You tried to smile but finally seeing him made you feel more emotional and embarrassed at your total failure. He sat at the edge of your bed, covering your body with a blanket. Cupping your cheek, he rubbed it with his thumb wiping the lonely tear along the way. “Let me make you your favorite tea, how does that sound?” he asked and was about to stand up when you firmly grabbed his wrist.

“Can you stay here instead?” you asked in a low voice that threatened to crack at any moment.

“Of course,” he responded almost immediately.

He laid down next to you and let you nestle up to his warm body. You tried to calm down for a long time now, but nothing worked as good as his sweet voice murmuring soft confessions to your ear and the comforting scent of his perfume.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked but you shook your head against his chest. “Do you want to watch something then? We could watch Tangled for example,” he suggested.

You slowly raised your head showing him the biggest puppy eyes and pout you were able to put. He chuckled at your obsession with the animation and reached for your laptop to search for it.

“I love you, baby, and I’m so proud of you,” he said against your forehead in between soft pecks he planted on it.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @jaelaxies, @yenqa, @heesitation

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alaskasmonsters · 1 year

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𝖆 𝖇𝖔𝖜𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖗𝖔𝖈𝖐 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖞 | 𝖕𝖙. 2 (gojo satoru)

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

content: reader has amnesia, pining, oblivious reader, not actually unrequited feelings, misunderstanding, clown behaviour (gojo IS in it after all), fluff, gojo being a softie

w/c: 7.069

summary: your amnesia still wasn't getting better and your confusing feelings for satoru, a man you didn't even remember, didn't help at all. and why did he keep acting so...weird?

a/n: happy april fools! instead of pranking you with a not funny joke like the majority of the internet i decided to give you a gift! the second part you’ve been waiting for for months haha…🥲 i hope the word count makes up for it a little as this did end up long!! i completely underestimated how much work this would be so forgive me for the v long wait 🙏🙏 i hope i didn’t forget to tag anybody!!this time i also can finally say that this is being posted on April fools because gojo is a jOKE! peace and love on planet earth ❤️ alsoo i coloured the header myself as a little extra hehe.

part 1

So. You were in love with Satoru. No biggie.

You had fallen in love before, maybe even times that lay beyond the reach of your current memories. Loves that weren’t him. Loves that had been lost in the darkness of the six years you couldn’t remember anymore. Years that you feared you would never get back again.

Six years.

You stared back at the reflection in your mirror, hands absentmindedly picking at your hair. You’ve been trying to make it look nice for the past half an hour but whenever you felt like you were happy enough with how it looked you made up your mind and started tugging at it again.

You just couldn’t decide how to wear it, whether to smooth it down or mess it up, or maybe use any product. You couldn’t remember how you used to wear it. This haircut wasn’t familiar to you. Hell, not even your face was familiar to you. Your cheeks used to be rounder, your eyebags weren't as prominent before and you couldn’t tell whether you looked tired or you were just growing old.

“26 isn’t old, you dork”, is what Satoru had told you when you had complained to him about it. It was, though, when you couldn’t remember anything past twenty.

You sighed, dropping your head against the glass of your bathroom mirror, the glass fogging where your warm breath hit it.

Yeah, that you were in love with a man you couldn’t remember was only the tip of the iceberg your ‘life-past-amnesia’ ship was steadily heading towards. It was already a mess by itself, sure, but things were worse, way worse than they seemed at first glance. At least they were in this new life that included curses and amnesia spells.

It wasn’t just that you didn’t remember Satoru. Not how you’ve met or how you’ve fallen in love with him. All the moments that had slowly tipped you over the edge or maybe. Maybe there was only one moment that had made you fall for him. Brutal and quick, like a punch to the face. You had a few pictures, the doodle and the promise of the bowl of rock candy. The candy that you were allergic to but Satoru loved. Candy you probably bought just for him to grab handfuls of it and stuff it into his pockets when he came over to visit. 26-year-old you must be helplessly in love.

The tip of the iceberg though? You didn’t think Satoru returned your feelings. Or the 26-year-old you's feelings at least. Considering how he’s behaved after finding out about your amnesia you were certain that the man only saw you as a friend. Sure, maybe he’s been trying to distance himself from you emotionally, because you not remembering him was hard for him, but that didn’t mean anything. After all, if Satoru felt the same way, if the both of you had been more than friends…wouldn’t he have told you?

Yeah, he was very strict with the “Don’t tell Y/N anything about the past 6 years” rule but certainly, this would be an exception.

Which meant your love wasn’t just helpless, but also unrequited.

You sighed, burying your fingers in your hair again and suppressing the need to rip your hair out.

26-year-old you was such a loser.

You gave yourself a minute to grieve the loss of your nonexistent coolness, then you straightened up again, carding your fingers through your hair to fix the mess you just created.

You’ve been losing your mind about this issue for way too long already. It’s like you couldn’t think about anything else anymore but Satoru and your feelings for him. Which was ridiculous. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about this since last week when you’d first realized that you had liked him, back in your living room when he’d confirmed to you that it was him who drew that ugly sketch for you, the one that looked like the drawing of a child.

Well…it wasn’t ugly…it was kinda cute. Knowing him you could imagine he was doing it to annoy you…or maybe because he tried to make you laugh? When thinking of the little sticky note you could almost picture his wide grin and the way he must have praised himself for drawing such a wonderful masterpiece just for you. Maybe he’d poked your cheek and made fun of your annoyed expression. Maybe he had kissed your cheek right after you’d told him to stop being a menace, giggling against your skin, breath warm and tickl…

Not that he’d done that before. Kiss your cheek. Why did you picture him doing that?

You shook yourself out of your thoughts. This was getting pathetic. Now that you remembered your feelings for him it was almost like they were trying to rush back into your body, like a wave being pulled back to land with force. And with the feelings, the wishful thinking, the yearning, came.

Not that any of it was real. Your feelings were just a projection of your subconsciousness because you knew you were supposed to have them! And your thoughts were just you being a hopeless romantic, imagining sweet moments between you and Satoru that never happened.

You barely knew the man. After all, it's been three weeks now, since that day you’ve woken up without your memories. Three weeks. And nothing. Your memories hadn’t returned and you were unable to recall anything from the past 6 years. There was only this stupid feeling of deja-vu you had when Satoru had shown you his eyes and the instinct to call him by his first name when you scolded him. And now those lingering romantic feelings.

But that didn’t count. It was not enough.

Why did you like Satoru? Why were you in love with him? You wanted to know so badly you felt like you were going insane. It couldn’t be just because he was pretty, right? You weren’t that shallow, right?

Not that he hadn’t displayed any good qualities so far. He was funny and attentive, he knew your favourite foods and paid attention to what you told him. At the same time he was one of the most annoying people you remember ever meeting and a little infuriating about 50 percent of the time…okay maybe more like 70 percent. And he thought it was funny, too, when he was being an annoying asshole. He always laughed at your sour expression.

But…his laugh was kind of cute. Even if he was being a prick, you couldn’t stay mad at him for long when you heard him laugh because he kind of snorted when he did and it was ador…Stop.

You grit your teeth and spun around to leave your bathroom. You’ve been spending way too much in there trying to fix your hair, anyway. You were starting to behave weirdly, thinking about Satoru’s laugh and his eyes and his everything.

Fuck. This was bad. Were you actually in love with him now? Not 26-year-old you. But this you. Even without your memories of him? Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

You stomped through your bedroom, glancing at the clock on your nightstand, the time reading 2:30 PM, before ripping open your closet. You had another 10 minutes. You can’t believe you’ve wasted so much time just being distracted with your hair and thoughts. You were sure that when you had entered the bathroom it had only been around 2 PM.

You quickly grabbed some pants and a shirt, deeming both acceptable before slipping into them, almost stumbling over your feet as you tried to climb into the pants and then almost hitting your elbow against the closet door as you pulled your shirt over your head. One look in the mirror and you pulled the shirt over your head again. It looked stupid. Not a good fit with the pants.

You started rummaging through your closet again, internally scolding yourself for even bothering that much. You were only going out to grab food with Satoru. It wasn’t a big deal, you were sure you’d done that all the time.

Satoru had told you he’d pick you up. He hadn’t told you where you were going because it was supposed to be a “surprise” but knowing him it wouldn’t be anything too fancy. At least you hoped it wasn’t. He would have told you if it was, right?

You stopped and looked down at your pants. They would work, right?

You shook your head. Again. You did that a lot now.

You finally decided on a button-up shirt, a little bit too big on you but the material was soft and it looked good. You had to roll up the sleeves a little but then you only had to slip into some shoes and you were ready.

Just in time, because that was the moment you heard your front door open and Satoru’s voice calling your name in a sing-song voice.

You groaned, having half a mind to stomp out of your bedroom and throw him out of your apartment.

“Just because you have a key doesn’t mean you can just come in!” You called through your closed bedroom door – you had expected him to wander into your apartment unannounced.

His laugh was just as cute when the door’s wood muffled it.

“I told you I would be here by 2:30, Yn-chan. I’m on time!”

You looked back at the clock to find he was right. He was on time. Didn’t mean he didn’t have to knock. This was your apartment, after all. He didn’t live here.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one more time, giving your outfit a once-over and letting your fingers smooth down your hair one more time before you opened your door and stepped out of your room.

“One day you’re gonna walk in on me naked and you will not survive that because I will kill you,” you scolded Satoru, waving your finger at him in a warning.

The man just snickered at your comment, grinning widely as his eyes fell on you. His eyes were neatly hidden behind his sunglasses yet again. Still, you didn’t miss the way they looked you over, studying you with badly concealed amusement.

You frowned, tensing. Did you look weird?

“Any special occurrence I don’t know about?” Satoru asked innocently, cocking his head at you.

You blinked. “What? Why?”

He didn’t answer immediately but his grin didn’t waver.

You looked down at your outfit again, wondering if it was too fancy. You knew this wasn’t a date or anything but you couldn’t help but put a little effort into your looks. Maybe it was a little more than you’d usually wear but you didn’t think it was too on the nose.

When you didn’t seem to understand what Satoru was referring to he took pity on you and stepped closer.

“Where did you get the shirt from?” He asked, tone light, as he reached out to tug at our sleeve.

You looked down at it, wondering why he wanted to know so badly. The shirt looked like any other. There was nothing really special about it. Maybe it was a little bigger on you but you had plenty of oversized clothes.

“I don’t know. My closet.” You shrugged.

Satoru rolled his eyes beneath his glasses.

“Try to remember!” he insisted, tapping your forehead.

You sighed, tired of this specific game. Still, you knew you had no choice but to indulge him. He was only trying to help you, after all.

“A gift,” you suggested.

Satoru smiled.

“Very good.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised but excited.

He hummed. “It used to be mine.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. Well…that was something.

“And you gave it to me? Why?”

Satoru cocked his head to the side, looking at you expectantly.

You groaned and hit his arm lightly. “I don’t know! Just tell me.”

The grin that snuck on his face was mischievous with an edge of…something. Something that made you feel a little dizzy. When he answered his voice was deeper than before, an edge of huskiness to it.

“You look cuter in it than I do, Yn-chan.”

You caught yourself before your mouth could drop open, and you could do something stupid like actually swoon. Instead, you scoffed and turned your back to him, pretending to reach for your bag, giving you an opportunity to hide your reddening face from his prying eyes.

Why did he have to say it like that? Was he trying to be a little shit?

Satoru chuckled as if he knew what you were doing. It didn’t help at all with the warmth in your cheeks. You grind your teeth as you slung your bag over your shoulder, then decide against it, only grabbing your keys and wallet to stuff into the pocket of your jacket. You let out a quiet breath to collect yourself before turning back towards the man. He waited patiently with a small grin on his lips.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

You hummed and moved past him to step towards the door. You reached for the handle, then you paused. Feeling Satoru’s gaze linger at the back of your head, you touched a hand to your hair again, fiddling with a strand in the back you felt was not sitting right.

Your lip jutted out in frustration and you had half a mind to excuse yourself to the bathroom to return to your earlier attempt at making your hair sit okay. Before you could do it, you heard Satoru approaching.

Turning back, the apology you were about to mutter died on your tongue as you saw him leaning over you. His expression was serious as he caught your wrist between your fingers and moved your hand to the side before he started softly moving his fingers through your hair instead. You froze, standing still as he combed down once, twice, giving a harsh tug to one of your strands before he pulled back with a satisfied smile.

“Here we go. What would you do without me?”

His voice sounded so so soft.

You swallowed, trying to calm your fluttering heart down as you blinked up at the man who was regarding you with warm eyes. Oh no, oh no no no. 26-year-old you had a point. They had a good point.

“Does it…look better?” You asked nervously, your hand moving up to touch your hair carefully before Satoru batted it away and chided you for trying to mess with his good work.

You glared at him, knowing full well your gaze had lost its heat, and he just chuckled.

“Your hair looks beautiful as always, Y/n chan, I just helped improve it,” he soothed you, waving his hand with a silly grin.

You bit your lip, averting your gaze.

“I guess it’s just different from what I remember.”

He hummed noncommittally. Then he opened the door wide, waving his other hand to motion you to go first. The crooked smile resting on his face at that moment did not leave your mind all night.

—

“You’re such a chicken, Yn-cha,” Satoru teased.

You gasped, offended. “Am not!”

He poked your cheek with a soft chuckle. “Such a chicken!”

You batted his hand away, contemplating for a second if you should just bite it. You had quickly noticed that Satoru drove one to measurements like those. Would you ever consider biting anyone else’s hand? No, not in a million years. But the man was so infuriating sometimes it just awoke this urge in you.

Satoru grinned like he knew exactly what you had thought, wiggling his fingers in the air between you as if to dare you to do it. Sometimes it really seemed like he could read your mind. You blamed it on your apparently close friendship before the whole amnesia thing.

When you didn’t actually attempt to sink your teeth into his skin he let his hand fall to the side and stuck out his tongue. You punched his arm with a huff, leading him to let out a dramatic whine.

You couldn’t believe you actually liked this dork. It was still a mystery to you, even now that you’ve finally accepted your fate. After the not-date, it was hard not to. The night wasn’t very eventful, you had only visited a little ice cream parlour and walked around the city a little.

Satoru had been an absolute menace and dragged you into all kinds of souvenir shops – like he didn’t live here in Tokyo…

But he’d been funny and charming despite everything. He had opened doors for you and had insisted you linked your arms together. “So I don’t lose you,” he had joked but it had sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach regardless. You had even ended up sharing a milkshake because Satoru had insisted.

It had felt like a date. It really had. But it couldn’t have been. Satoru would have told you. If there was anything going on between the two of you he would tell you. He wouldn’t keep something as big as you two being in a relationship to himself. Amnesia rules be damned.

But even if it wasn’t a date, it had only made you understand 26-year-old you’s affection towards him more. How were you meant to not fall in love with Satoru if that was how he treated you all the time?

Didn’t mean you could let him know about that, though.

The man was still pestering you, digging his finger into your side and making you squeal and squirm away.

“Come on, tell me,” he urged you with a whine, “Who is the better-looking sorcerer? Me, and you know you want to tell me, you have to follow your heart, or boring businessman Nanami?”

Yeah…that was what Satoru has been annoying you about for the last five minutes on your way to Shoko’s office. Five minutes. And only because you had passed Nanami on your way there and Satoru had noticed your eyes following the man after he had nodded politely at you in greeting and given Satoru a deadpan stare before he walked past you.

Since then Satoru was relentless in his quest to find out if you thought Nanami was more attractive than him because well…Satoru was a menace. And his ego was apparently very fragile.

“And I told you, I cannot answer this question honestly because your ego wouldn’t survive the fall, now cut it out, you big baby,” you teased him and pushed his hand away.

Satoru shook his head, not ready to give up yet. If the shit-eating grin on his face was anything to go by.

“You’re such a chicken, Yn-chan. You’re just too embarrassed to admit how attractive you think I am. You think I’m gorgeous. It’s okay to admit I am the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen.”

You rolled your eyes, hating that he was right. Nanami was a very attractive man. Unfortunately, you’ve found yourself more drawn to pretty men with gorgeous eyes and annoying personalities and an ego the size of all of Tokyo. Skill issue on your part.

“Sure, that’s it,” you deadpanned and Satoru hummed with delight.

“Admitting this takes strength, I know.” He gave a solemn nod and reached to pat your shoulder but you shoved him and sent him stumbling to the side, laughing.

You had to hide your smile.

You arrived at Shoko’s office only a little bit later. Satoru knocked but barely waited until the woman told them to come in before pushing the door open and sticking his head through the gap, giving a cheerful greeting.

You heard Shoko groan before being dragged into the office by Satoru, his grip around your shoulder as he pulled you in front of him. The woman’s features softened at your sight, the lines in her forehead smoothing out again. You waved at her with a small smile, understanding the annoyance Satoru was able to awaken in people.

“I’ll leave them in your hands,” Satoru announced, grabbing both your shoulders and pushing you forward like a mother presenting her child.

“They’re not a child, you idiot,” Shoko sighed.

The man’s only reply was a smile, as he patted your shoulders innocently. You glared at him and called him a jerk and Satoru laughed. Before he finally let go of you again he gave your shoulders a squeeze as if to ensure you he’d be back, then he retracted towards the door.

“Remember! No memory discussion! Alright, bye. I’ll pick you up in an hour.” He waved at both of you before slipping out of the office and closing the door behind him.

“I feel like I was just handed off to daycare,” you sighed and Shoko snickered.

“He’s very protective of you.” She said it in a voice that sounded neither like she was excusing his behaviour nor like she was scolding him. “Could be less annoying about it, though.”

You hummed in agreement, taking a seat on the small sofa in the corner of the room. Shoko watched you quietly from where she was sitting behind her desk, tapping her fingers against the wood.

“I can imagine you’re getting frustrated by being asked this so much, but do you remember anything yet?”

You sighed, having expected that question. It’s been almost a month, after all. You knew that this was probably going on longer than any of them had expected. “No? I mean. Other than a few deja vus, if that counts.”

She nodded, staring thoughtfully at the screen of her computer.

“Any other symptoms? Headaches? Nausea? Blackouts? Any physical pain? More tired than usual? Numbness?”

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “No, Doctor, no other symptoms.”

Shoko blinked, looking taken aback. Her eyes darted back towards you, then she burst out into quiet laughter.

You frowned, confused.

“You’re still calling me out even without your memories,” She mused to herself when she calmed down, “Can’t help it, really.”

You leaned back into the cushions of the couch, feeling warm at the sound of Shoko’s laugh. For some reason, you felt incredibly pleased.

“So you do this a lot then. Turn on the doctor mode,” you asked her with a teasing tone, wondering if you could get any information out of her without Satoru being around to shush her.

She rolled her eyes.

“You complain about me mothering you too much when you get sick. But wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a difficult patient.”

You lightened up, grinning. “Mh, yeah, I like to ignore my illnesses until they go away.”

Shoko gave you an unimpressed look, seemingly displeased by how unashamed you were about it. You just shrugged. The woman decided to let it go, only muttering something to herself you couldn’t hear from the distance but were sure was about you being a brat.

“Has Satoru been pestering you a lot about the memory thing? I bet he is, that idiot.”

Your smile fell.

“No, actually, he barely asks about it,” you admitted, your eyes falling to your lap. “I feel like he’s pretending to be less bothered by it than he actually is.”

“Oh?” Shoko asked, but she didn’t sound surprised by your observation at all.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “You know.”

“Why Satoru is holding you at arm’s length? Take a guess.”

“I don’t know. I barely know him.”

Shoko shook her head, raising an eyebrow at you.

“You know him quite well. You just don’t remember. At least consciously.”

You frowned, sitting up. “What do you mean?”

Shoko leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, regarding you with a calm gaze.

“You said you were having deja vus?”

You nodded, telling her about when you had called Satoru by his first name for the first time and the feeling you’ve had when the man had pulled off his glasses and showed you his eyes. How you’d felt like it hadn’t been the first time.

That last part brought an amused smile to the women’s lips. “Of course, he’d try to copy that.”

You perked up at her words. “So that did happen before!”

Shoko hummed. “Which just proves my suspicions. Subconsciously you still remember the past six years.” She raised her hand and motioned towards you. “You instinctively know how to engage with your environment and with the people you are close friends with. You recognise familiar situations and you still seem to feel the same way towards us. You just fail to consciously access your memories.”

You frowned, not quite understanding what the woman was saying. Were feelings connected to memories? Could you being in love with Satoru be a sign that your memories weren’t as removed as you had first suspected?

Shoko, who noticed your confusion, explained further, “Y/n, I remember when you first got here. It took you months until you opened up to us more and started warming up to Satoru. Even though you are now affected by amnesia you didn’t revert back to that state. You still act as you did a month ago before you lost your memories.”

So the loss of memories wasn’t really the issue, you just couldn’t access them.

“So…what do you think I should do?”

She shrugged. “Trust your instincts.”

You sighed. Right. Your instincts. Like you could trust them when they were so ridden with your wistful yearning. What if you told Shoko that your instincts were screaming at you to wrap your arms around Satoru, bury your head in his chest and stay there? That your instincts were screaming at you to grab his face and kiss him. That your instincts were telling you that the two of you should be dating and that it was unfair how you were stuck with those feelings instead of 26-year-old you who actually knew how to deal with them.

Shoko clicked her tongue and let out a snort, making you look up with panic. Had you said any of that out loud?

“What?”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe that jerk pulled the eye move but not that stupid hand thing with Infinity on you.”

“Infinity?” you questioned, feeling like the word felt familiar to you.

“It’s one of his curse techniques.” Shoko looked up to the ceiling, pursing her lips.

Then she started to explain to you, as simply as possible, what Infinity was and how it worked. You listened to her with wide eyes, feeling yourself grow a little dizzy.

“Infinity?” You echoed.

“Infinity.” Shoko repeated again, raising an eyebrow at your pale face. “I know you don’t remember anymore but there is no need to look so terrified.”

“So no one…can touch him?”

“Without his permission, yes. The jerk turns it off sometimes when he pleases.” She rolled her eyes.

At your silence she turns to you, a frown twisted her face. “What is wrong?”

“I just…we’re kind of touching all the time.”

Shoko gave you a look and you blushed, cheeks exploding in warmth. That sounded…not like you had wanted it to sound.

“No…not like that, it’s just- casual, I guess. But…”

Shoko grinned. “I see.” Then she burst out into laughter.

You felt yourself blushing even more, lips jutting out in a pout. “What’s so funny?”

“The asshole always turns it off around you. It’s probably subconscious at this point.”

You blinked. “He does?”

Shoko lifted a brow, giving you an amused look. “Surprised?”

“I- of course!”

Why wouldn’t you be? You wouldn’t put it past Satoru to turn on Infinity whenever you hit his arm or shove him just to annoy you.

Shoko just shrugged, eyes twinkling with mirth as she told you, “Some motivation to remember I guess.”

“Shoko!” You whined.

The woman just chuckled again. “You could try to surprise him. Touch him when he doesn’t suspect it. Just to test the theory.”

Yeah…maybe you’d do that.

—

You sighed, watching Satoru empty the bowl of rock candy you’d just restocked the other day, grabbing a handful of them before throwing himself back down on the couch. Your eyes followed his fingers as he skillfully unwrapped each candy with one hand before Satoru stuffed them into his mouth. He hummed appreciatively every time.

You couldn’t believe a 26-year-old you was so desperately in love with him to be indulging this behaviour.

“I didn’t stock them up just for you to eat all of it within a day.”

Satoru turned his head a little in your direction but his glasses were hiding his intended side-eye.

“But you got them for me, didn’t you?”

He grinned as you stayed silent, knowing he’s seen right through you.

“You’re so sweet, Y/n-chan.”

You huffed. “Shut up. Who says I got them for you?”

“You’re allergic and as you’ve said before I am the only one who’s shown up to your apartment the past few weeks. Who else would you get them for?”

You leaned back in the chair, eyes resting on the bowl on your desk. “My secret boyfriend obviously.”

Satoru hummed. “I thought you came to the conclusion he didn’t exist.”

You bit your lips, glad he has turned with his back towards you again so he couldn’t see your conflicted expression. Maybe you’d just come to the conclusion that you wished Satoru was the secret boyfriend…

You couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation Shoko and you had had that day. About Satoru’s distance, about your lingering feelings despite the memory ‘loss’ and about Infinity. Especially that last part hadn’t left you any peace. What reason was there for Satoru to shut it off around you? Even when you threatened him with your chopsticks? Or was it just another amnesia rule? Did he want you to remember Infinity by yourself?

You frowned, eyes gazing towards his seat on the couch. He was still happily munching on his candy, his back exposed to you.

What had Shoko said? You should try to test him by touching him when he didn’t expect it? This way he couldn’t just shut it off at the last moment. This way you’d know for sure if he automatically disabled it around you.

Your fingers itched and you balled your hands into fists to stop yourself from tapping them against your thighs. You were sitting close enough that if you leaned forward you would be able to touch him. He was still busy with the candy, making happy noises.

Your eyes zoned in on the uncovered patch of skin on his neck, a pale stripe peeking out between his hair and his collar.

Satoru made a questioning sound in the back of his throat and you realised he was still expecting an answer.

“How do I know you’re not just keeping him away from me? Maybe it’s just another one of your amnesia rules.” You tried to joke, keeping your voice steady.

He snickered, shoulders shaking as his head fell forwards a little, exposing even more skin of his neck.

You stared at it, feeling your heartbeat out of your chest.

“Though I definitely have the power to do that I don’t think-”

You pushed your finger against the skin of Satoru’s neck.

The man stopped, neither flinching nor moving away. He just waited.

Your eyes went wide, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your finger. He hadn’t activated Infinity. He couldn’t even have known that you would touch him. Your mind was reeling.

“Sorry, you-uh-there…there was a hair!” You yelled out, voice rising an octave, as you swiped your finger down his skin to pretend like you were brushing it away.

Then you quickly snatched your hand away.

“I see. Thank you.” Satoru’s tone was unreadable again. And he still didn’t turn around.

Not that it would have helped ease your mind to see his expression, not when the glasses were hiding his true feelings by covering his eyes.

“Of course.” You laughed awkwardly, now wanting nothing more than to bend forward and press your lips to the spot you had just touched.

You shock yourself out of that thought. Get a grip.

You cleared your throat. “So you have… the power to keep my secret boyfriend away, huh?”

It was meant to lighten the mood, maybe get rid of the sudden tension you felt between the two of you. But Satoru stayed quiet for a while.

“I’m the strongest.” He said it like it was a fact and for some reason, you didn’t doubt him.

You smiled. “Maybe he’d get very upset if he found out you ate all his candy and would try to fight you.”

“I’d win,” Satoru insisted, finally turning around to look at you, a smirk lifting the corner of his lips.

And then with one smooth move, he bent over the back of the couch and snatched the bowl of rock candy from your desk. You gasped, watching in shock as the man dug his hand in the contents and fished out even more candy than he had before.

You jumped up, reaching for the bowl.

“Give it to me.”

“Nope.” Satoru laughed, holding his hand out of your reach.

You bent over the back of the couch, stabilising yourself on his shoulder as you climbed half over the backrest, Satoru’s laughter filling the air with your annoyed yells.

“Satoru stop being a little shit. I just bought these. That’s way too much sugar for you.”

You reached over him, catching his wrist and almost losing balance and falling but were able to catch yourself in the last moment, luckily not smashing your foreheads together in the process. Wait…foreheads?

You froze, hands still holding his wrist as you realized that you were now sitting in Satoru’s lap.

Like actually sitting in Satoru’s lap. Butt on thighs. Sitting.

You…what?

You couldn’t move, you tried to will yourself to do something. Anything. But your body didn’t respond, too overwhelmed that you were sitting on Satoru’s lap.

The man looked unbothered, eyes twinkling with mischief as your cheeks exploded with heat and you kind of wanted to slap him because what the fuck?

You let go of his wrists and quickly tried to move back and out of his lap but had to have Satoru save you from losing balance and almost falling backwards in your attempts. Which he did by grabbing your waist with his hands and pulling you back in his lap, letting go of the candy still in his hand. The sound of them clattering to the floor filled the following silence.

“Careful,” he chided you, voice playful.

You stared at him, eyes darting between the dark lenses of his sunglasses and across his face as you tried to work out what was happening.

“See something you like?” he teased, hands still comfortably resting on your waist.

That’s what you noticed suddenly. He hadn’t let go of you. No, he was keeping you in his lap, like he wanted you there. And what he just said…was he flirting?

Seriously flirting?

You reached forward, not knowing what possessed you as your fingers traced the frames of Satoru’s glasses before softly plucking them from his face. The man didn’t stop you. He remained still, unblinkingly staring up at you with those blue eyes that mirrored the sky. You folded the glasses absentmindedly and clipped them to his shirt before your hand reached for his face again. The cap of your finger brushed the skin of his cheek, barely able to notice the softness of it when you came back to yourself. What the fuck were you doing.

You reeled back, almost falling out of Satoru’s lap again if it wasn’t for the man’s grip around you.

“Why are you fighting it?” His voice was suddenly serious.

You blinked, overwhelmed by what had just happened, what was still happening.

“Fighting what?” You breathed out, flexing your fingers in his grip.

Without much explanation, he pulled your hand back to its previous position a few inches away from his face before letting go again.

“Trust your instincts and stop fighting them, otherwise your memories will never return.”

You swallowed.

“What if it’s not instincts?”

He cocked his head. You didn’t continue your sentence.

What if it was merely your feelings for him? What if you messed things up for 26-year-old you?

Gojo sighed, shoulders falling and for a second you saw disappointment fleet through his gaze before it was replaced with a feigned expression of amusement.

“You’re such a chicken.”

He straightened up and you realised that he was letting you go, that you could get out of his lap now. Instead, you did something stupid.

You grabbed his face with both of your hands and waited long enough to see him perk up in surprise, eyes wide as they stared up at you, and then you leaned down to press your lips against his.

Satoru didn’t even wait until your lips were fully connected before he pushed forward, head tilting until your mouths could slot together perfectly. Something in your chest fluttered as he pulled you closer against him, your chests being pressed together. You gasped into his mouth. He used that opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips and you followed his guidance, letting yourself sink into the sensation. You shuddered against him, overwhelmed with the feeling of him but at the same time, it felt normal…a little bit like you were coming home.

You both pulled back to catch your breath, not moving far away, noses still close enough to almost touch. This was insane. You couldn’t help staring at him, his eyes looked so bright and a little crazy. You just noticed how impossibly blue they were. Bluer than the sky even, like they contained a whole other universe in them.

You swallowed, tongue darting out to wet your tingling lips, the taste of sugar lingering there. You didn’t pay any attention to it, too distracted by the excitement that bloomed in your chest when Satoru’s eyes darted down to follow the moment.

A laugh bubbled past your throat at the absurdity of it all. Only yesterday you wouldn’t have thought it possible that Satoru would let you kiss him, much less kiss you back. That you’d been sitting here in his lap, all because of…well…

“You deactivated it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Mh?”

“When I touched your neck. Infinity.”

His eyes widened, finding yours. “You remember that?”

You gave his cheek an apologetic squeeze, “Shoko told me.”

He visibly deflated. “So you still remember nothing?”

Yeah…there was still that. Your memories. You swallowed, eyes darting down to his lips again and you remembered what Shoko had told you. What Satoru had just told you. You have to trust your instincts.

“I can’t tell if it’s a memory or more of a feeling. But I think we’ve kissed before.”

“Oh yeah?” Satoru teased, visibly brightening up again.

“Satoru.”

He hummed, fingers squeezing your waist as he pulled you closer against him. Your thumb brushed his cheek and your noses brushed.

“Do feelings count as memories?”

Satoru lifted an eyebrow.

“You’re getting philosophical with me.”

You softly pinched his cheek.

“Would you let me kiss you again?”

His eyebrow quirked up. “Would that help with your memories?”

“Would you let me even if it didn’t?” You whispered, already leaning closer.

“Are you asking these questions to figure me out or because you want to kiss me?” he asked, but his voice sounded hoarse and you could tell that he wanted you to kiss him just as badly as you wanted to kiss him.

“I’m following my instincts,” You muttered and leaned back in to connect your lips again.

Yeah. This was like coming home.

—

After that afternoon you became bolder. Pulling Satoru down for kisses, reaching to hold his hand, sitting close enough your legs were touching, snuggling up to him when you were watching a movie.

To your pleasant surprise the man was accepting your touches with ease, Infinity still shut off around you. You didn’t talk about it at first, happy to just enjoy this new but somehow familiar dynamic you had. But there was really just one explanation for this.

“We’re dating.”

Your statement didn’t seem to surprise Satoru at the very least.

“Is that a question or a statement?” he mused, not even turning around as he prepared your food at the counter of your kitchen.

You closed the distance between the both of you and slung your arms around him, testing, and just like you’d expected, he let you. Not just that, it almost felt like he was leaning into your touch.

“I’m pretty confident,” you hummed, tightening your grip and pressing your face into his side.

“You’re remembering?” Satoru asked but he didn’t sound convinced.

You scrunched your face. “Did I ask you out?”

Satoru tensed and peaked down at you, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Are you guessing?”

You grinned. “I asked you out but you kissed me first.”

His eyes widened. “Y/n…”

Your grin softened into a smile at his hopeful eyes.

“It’s not really remembering, I think. It just…feels right. It’s like I just know it.”

He sighed, reaching out to twirl your hair between his fingers.

“Are you even trying?” He sounded so whiny. It made you giggle again.

“You’re such a jerk. Why didn’t you just tell me we were dating?”

“You need to remember yourself for the curse to wear off,” he justified, but then admitted what you had already suspected, “It was also very funny to watch you squirm and be all flustered around me. You were so embarrassed for wanting to see my eyes.” He giggled to himself. “And to hear about that secret boyfriend of yours you buy those candies for was very entertaining. “

You rolled your eyes. “And you were that secret boyfriend the whole time.”

Discarding the food at the counter the man turned around in your grip so he could sling his arms around you as well. He rested his head on top of yours.

“You never told me you were allergic.”

You shrugged. “You would have made fun of me for being so smitten with you.”

“Because you are! You love me so much!” he sing-sang, rocking you in his arms, making you laugh.

“Yeah, I do,” you agreed softly.

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lovelyhan · 11 months

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elaborate in that shua imagine rn 🔪🔪🔪

JOSHUA — 00:51

i wasn't going to but i'm sooo horny worked up for shua these days that maybe i can use a little self indulgence 🧍attached the fansite pics that drove me insane in the middle of the day for funsies too <3

warnings: school uniform kink? smut (MINORS DNI)

"it wasn't this tight before." joshua pouts as he checks himself out in the mirror right after buttoning his shirt. "my friends used to tease me for being all lanky back in tenth grade, too."

it takes you a while to formulate a response—definitely not because you're distracted by the way the taut fabric of his old high school uniform visibly strains against the delicious circumference of his biceps. joshua glances behind him with a quizzical look.

"uh." you gulp, hoping to god that he didn't notice the way you almost drooled. "you go to the gym like thrice a week. i think the gains are very much spoken for."

your clipped response makes him arch an eyebrow but your boyfriend doesn't really comment on it. instead, he turns back to gaze at his reflection and promptly flexes his arms—the poor short sleeves doing their best not to tear at the seams.

fuck. you can feel your core throbbing at the supposedly innocent sight of your boyfriend admiring his own hard work. you cross your legs from where you're seated on the swiveling chair by his desk, silently pleading for your brain to please get out of the gutter.

"guess you're right," joshua laughs softly. "didn't expect that it'd be tight around the chest too though. maybe all that weight training was worth it after all."

"but baby, why are you looking at me like you wanna fuck?"

long story short, that's how you ended up on top of joshua's childhood bed with your skirt bunched up your hips—his long, thick cock sliding into your velvet heat with a torturously slow pace.

"you're such a filthy girl, aren't you?" he chuckles, tongue swiping along his bottom lip as he watches his length disappear inside you. "my mom is kind enough to cook us dinner downstairs but here you are getting worked up because of an old uniform. you like my arms that much, baby?"

you hate how joshua knows you like the back of his hand. you barely even gave away any hint of being turned on by how his shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and beefy arms, but he's got killer intuition after all.

"y-yes," you dole out pathetically, helpless from how deliciously he stretches you open. "so fuckin' hot, shua... got wet just looking at you. couldn't help myself."

your boyfriend sighs, planting his palms flat on either side of your head as he gazes at you lovingly and ravenously at the same time. he halts his movements completely as he lets you feel the way his cock throbs inside you.

"so impatient," he scolds. "couldn't wait until we got home before giving me those pretty bedroom eyes, huh?"

not seeing any incentive in saving face with a lie, you nod. "need you now. p-please fuck me shua. wanna get split in half on your cock—!"

he meets you halfway with a harsh thrust that makes the headboard thud against the wall, momentarily startling you out of your fucked out haze.

"god. fuck, baby," joshua rasps before leaning down to graze his teeth along the cut of your jaw. "don't say those kinds of things. we need to be quiet. wouldn't want my parents knowing how much of a dirty girl you are—wanting to get fucked stupid in my bed on the first visit—now do you?"

you shake your head—a prickle of rationality miraculously still floating amidst your lust-addled mind. joshua's parents are absolute sweethearts. they welcomed you into their house with open arms and wanted nothing but to make you feel at home.

what they don't know—and you hope to god won't ever find out—is that you feel most at home with your hot boyfriend fucking you stupid.

"joshua," you whimper quietly as he pounds you into the mattress—his arms flexing with the strain of thrusting into you with vigor while staying as quiet as possible. "you fuck me so good, baby. fucking love your cock s-so much!"

"you sure it's my cock that you love, not this uniform?" he breathes with a condescending smile—the muffled noise of skin slapping against skin ringing in your ears. "i've never seen you get horny so fucking quick over any other outfit i've worn before."

you can't even chide him for insinuating that you have some sort of school uniform kink or whatever—too delirious with how the vein running along the underside of his dick slides along your gummy walls. the wet sound of sex fills the room and you can only hope that neither of his parents would hear what's really going on in their only son's bedroom.

"'m so close, shua," you plead, tears catching along the line of your lashes as you hook your arms around his neck. "fill me up, please, please. need to feel you come in me, baby—i want it."

"needy fucking girl," he growls before hooking the back of your knees across his elbows—fucking into you with waning precision. "i'll finish inside this needy pussy and you'll sit at the dinner table with my cum dripping out of your hole. you want that, huh?"

before you can wrench out a semi-coherent response, joshua crushes his lips against yours before lifting your ass higher from the mattress. the new angle makes the fat head of his cock graze the sensitive patch of flesh deep inside you—making you cry out pathetically against his mouth.

your pussy clamps around joshua's heavy length with a vice grip, eyes fluttering as your orgasm washes over you like a storm surging into calm shores. your boyfriend isn't too far behind as he starts muttering obscenities against your lips before you feel his hot cum surge into your battered cunt—filling you until overflowing.

he strokes your hair lovingly as you both come down from your high, shared pants saturating the air with heat as he flashes you a ditzy smile. lightheadedness aside, you roll your eyes before mustering what little strength you have left to lean in and press a kiss on his lips.

then, a knock on his door interrupts the quiet afterglow.

"joshua, dinner's ready. both of you head back down, okay?"

he looks at you before stifling a soft laugh, slipping his softening cock out of your ruined hole before flashing you another heart-rending grin.

"we'll be right down, mom."

#svthub #seventeen smut #joshua smut #hong jisoo smut #📝 drabble #writing this was not in my bingo card tonight #but look what 071023 joshua did to me anyway 🧍#lovelyhan

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nrdmssgs · 11 months

Note

Oh don't think you should worry about not using perfect German. Fanfics are for fun, seeing German in it is more like a bonus so i think it's fine as long as we can enjoy them! But thanks for the disclaimer :) i am so ready for that drabble btw 🔥 also as i promised a few days ago... May i make a fluff request? Insecure f chubby reader with your version of König. The kinda awkward, sweet, timid guy trying to comfort her. Add your own twist, i trust you with this! Pls ignore if this isn't ok. Thanks :D

Masterlist Comforting series: Soap comforting reader Price comforting reader

Hurt/comfort, fluff

Pairing: König x reader

Summary: Your old friend is happy to spend a free day with you. But one little memory haunts you.

TW: Mentions of bullying, mentions of rejection of ones body image.

The short trill of a smartphone is muffled by your jeans and t-shirt lying on top of it. You keep staring at your reflection in a fitting room mirror. Distant voices, shop ambient music, echoes of steps - you don't hear anything, but your rushing pulse.

Because right now you are a teenager again. It's first day of school, and you are happy, for the first time genuinely happy to be back. You've grown so much taller this summer, you've got a bit of a suntan and all those incredible new clothes! You just can't wait to meet your classmates as this new beautiful girl, they have never met before! You find familiar faces in the crowd in front of the school, make your way to them and loudly (unusually loudly, but this is the new you, who will never be shy again) say hello. First gaze falls on you, then a second, a third... and then they all turn in your direction. Something inside you shudders and shrinks into a helpless, desperate lump. They all grew up too and overtook you again. You look like a funny chubby baby again compared to them... What about their outfits? You thought you'd only wear something like that at the end of college.

"Wow, look who is adulting here, is that an above knee skirt on you?" You don't like the fake affectionate tone your classmate uses to address you. “But your mother didn’t tell you that you need to grow up, not grow wide for such clothes, sweetheart?”

How many years ago it was? Ten or fifteen already? And it still hurts. You look at your puffy thighs. “Shapeless!” - screams an angry voice in your head. Your gaze lifts to the curves of your belly and waist. “Vulgar! Too much!”. You raise your arms and look at the shoulder muscles stretching limply down. The dress you are trying on right now in a fitting room is so pretty, you are ashamed, you discredit it with your body. It is made not for you, you should have known better than trying on something so beautiful, light and airy. This fabric should flow easily over the body, and not wrap around every fold.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the plaintive squeak of your smartphone. You take it out from under your clothes and open a chat. “Are you ok? Do you need anything? I can bring you water or some other clothes in the fitting room.” (received 15 minutes ago) “Ah, sorry, it sounded like I'm pressing you. Take your time! Just please let me know, you are ok out there. I'm worrying.” (received 1 minute ago)

You frantically type in an answer, change back into your clothes and rush out of the fitting room. König stands before a pile of dark t-shirts and lazily picks them up one by one. “Oh no, you are not buying one of those here! I could get you a dozen on amazon for a price of one here!” You put on a jolly mask approaching him. “But those are fun! They have little cat footprints on the sides, look!” You start pulling him away from Ts, and he adds with a small smile, “I can always turn it inside out and no one but me will know..."

It's only when you two exit the shop, he understands it. “Wait, and what about that dress?”

“What's about it?” you take your jacket from his hands and despite hot weather take it on.

“You've wanted it so much, you've been waiting for the day, you could finally get it. Why didn't you buy it?” He desperately tries to catch your hand, to make you go a bit slower and finally face him.

“Na-a-ah, it turned out not that great, so I changed my mind. Forget it, it's no big deal.” You play it cool, because you don't want to let him down. He is in the military, he goes through hell on every deployment, so not letting your insignificant problems affect his mood is the least you could do.

“But, but you… you…”

You don't let König go on with his thought and change the subject. For the rest part of the day the two of you wander through the quiet, sleepy from the summer heat streets. Walking in a buttoned jacket in the scorching sun is not easy, but you stubbornly pull him on and on whenever he offers to take it from you. In the evening, you find yourself in the park. He somehow manages to get you on the bench.

"Can I ask you something? Are you feeling well?" His gaze is full of anxiety and concern.

"Of course! I had a great day with a friend, we went out, we had a great time! And I saved him a lot of money by not letting him buy those T-shirts!" You chuckle, but then you see his eyes. "Why are you asking? Is something wrong?" “Well, yes… I'm worried about you. Something happened in that shop, and it eats me from the inside. You barely stopped today to breathe and rest, you refused to have lunch, you torture yourself with this jacket all day, although I can see how hard it is for you. Even now, you're sitting on the very edge of the bench, like there's not enough room for the two of us. You were so happy in the morning, but then... as if someone put out the joyful light inside you. And if it really happened there, in the store - I would like to know what happened. Whoever it was - whatever nonsense they've told you - I want to fix this. Because I hate seeing you silently suffer like that.” As he speaks, blush appears on his face. It's clear, he overthinks again, if his thoughts sound acceptable, being spoken out loud. König is always like that: a kind soul too worried to sound weird. If only he knew, how much comfort he brought you.

“I'm sorry, I'll be ok soon. Promise. It happens sometimes. I know, it's high time I learn to accept myself, it's just… I sometimes understand, how much work lays ahead to be able to finally… love all this.” You lightly squeeze your sides and smile bitterly.

“You mean, nobody said or done anything in the shop? It all happened inside?” His worrying gaze meet yours. And when you nod and apologize for your behavior, he calls you by your name and takes your hand. “Please don't beat up yourself for not feeling well about yourself. I want to show you something, may I? But you'll need to sit on the bench properly. It won't work otherwise.”

You nod and slowly lean back, till you sit fully on the bench. “I know, how it feels, when a small thought ruins everything. One moment you think, how some guy told many years ago, you'll never be a sniper and the next few days you show your worst results on firing range. Or you accidentally drop a mug, it falls and breaks. And all night after that, your parents chastising you for being so clumsy in an endless nightmare. But I have learned a trick, that helps.”

Without letting go of your hand, he clamps in the fingers of the other hand a crimson bead of the bracelet wrapped around his wrist. “I name every bead and try to remember the names, when I feel down. This one for example is called ‘other people's opinions do not determine how well I shoot’. And this is ‘it was just a mug or plate or a vase, I can always buy a better one’.”

You listen to him and smile. A trail of warm words, positive affirmations, he always carries with him: that's really wholesome. He lifts your hand and pulls the bracelet from his wrist to yours. "I want you to try. Give one of them a name."

You are thinking. Something that could calm you now... But what could be? König patiently waits, and you feel uneasy from the long pause.

"Let's try together, okay?" He touches one bead, and you feel the warmth of his fingers at your very wrist. "I'd call this 'I'm Enough. I don't have to look different to be loved’. Sounds good?” You look down on the bead, on sunshine playing on its smooth surface, and a smile blooms on your face. König notices that and grins widely. “Ok, now it's your turn!”

You take a next bead, look at it. There is a little scratch on it, which reminds if something, that left a little scratch on your soul a while ago. “This one will be ‘It's ok, it doesn't look on me exactly like on a model from advertising. I am still beautiful just as her’.” “You are more beautiful,” adds König in a soft voice. Then he makes you name another one, then another and another. Some of them are funny, others are deeply personal, there are some reassuring, but still sad. In an hour you reach the last one - big bead on the knot of bracelet. It has many scratches, so first you ask him, what was his name for it. “I'll tell you one day. Just… not now, ok?” He looks down for a moment, but then the smile returns to his face and König adds, “How about we go have dinner? I was too shy to admit it, but i'm starving.”

You feel that hate and fear let go of your mind. And with that comes hunger. “Me too,” you smile, looking at the bracelet on your wrist.

***

A few months later from that day, König is almost finally done with the last step of a big mission, he was deployed for. It was early morning, he and his squadmates headed on the last operation. König leaned back in his seat, looking somewhere up. His fingers involuntarily clutched at the center bead of the bracelet: the same as his old one, but a little darker. You gave him this one. König tried very hard to take good care of your gift, but now his tactical gloves scratched a large bead. His lips, hidden behind a veil, silently repeated the same phrase.

“Ich werde unversehrt zu ihr zurückkehren und den Mut aufbringen, sie um ein Date zu fragen.”

“Ich werde unversehrt zu ihr zurückkehren und den Mut aufbringen, sie um ein Date zu fragen.”*

*Ich werde unversehrt zu ihr zurückkehren und den Mut aufbringen, sie um ein Date zu fragen. - I will return to her unharmed and have the courage to ask her out.

369 notes · View notes

shibaraki · 2 years

Text

WORTH THE WEIGHT ┊ IWAIZUMI HAJIME

tags: GN reader, gym au / gym owner iwaizumi, reader works out casually, brief sexual harassment (unwanted advances towards reader; not from hajime), pre-relationship, lots of awkward flirting, GOOD GUY HAJIME <3, hopeful ending

wc: 3k

There’s a pointed pressure against your back as the kettlebell swings between your legs. Someone has been staring since you arrived an hour ago—restless from a full day of work, you had wanted to wring out the stress from your muscles and quieten your thoughts before falling into your soft bed.

The unsettling sensation of being watched pulled taut the sinews in your body. Your form was undoubtedly off, hesitant to bend and stretch as you properly should. It hadn’t taken long to notice who it was; an unassuming man had been lingering in your peripheral, commandeering machines soon after you had used them. You weren’t naïve. You understood well enough that people might look, and maybe even admire you, as you worked out. An appreciative glance can be pleasant when done respectfully, and you can admit to briefly checking out a fair few of the regulars here yourself.

But this was different, and all too familiar. His eyes raked over your frame and you felt it cling to your skin, unease settling like lead in your sternum. After he’d purposefully moved to sit himself on the bench behind you as you lifted you’d tried to finish your reps with the added weight, breathing through the feeling, but ultimately abandoned the set and found solace in your phone.

A spark of discomfort prickles along your spine, hot frustration pooling in your gut. You had only been coming to Kaiju Fitness for a month and a half, but you’d quickly grown fond of the place. Everyone was respectful and friendly, the evening staff knew you by name and assisted with your form. You felt relief in knowing it was nothing like the multitude of other gyms you’d tried in the past. Finally, a place you were comfortable and safe exercising in.

Until today, that is.

He must be new, because you came in every other day after your shift like clockwork and this was your first time seeing him here. He meets your gaze in the reflection of the mirrors, offering a smarmy and unashamed smirk that soils you. Where your fingers tighten around the handle of the kettlebell, you seriously contemplate throwing it at him despite the legal consequences.

Arrogance is dangerous, daunting. Taking it as an invitation, he stands to approach you even as you keep your eyes on your phone, thumb swiping back and forth through your playlist to feign ignorance. It doesn’t deter him in the slightest—in his single celled brain, you were willing to bet that he thought you were just playing hard to get.

Nervousness takes root despite your anger. The dipole between your bodies distorts the closer he gets, and an innate sense of helplessness keeps you frozen in place, as if you were playing dead. All you can do is sew your eyes shut, breathing inaudibly murmurings of “go away, go away, go away,” in hopes of creating a barrier through sheer will.

“Hi sweet—”

“Hey, man. Can I help you?”

In your periphery, a larger man cuts in between you and the strangers intended path. Glancing back towards the mirrors, you find the broad expanse of his back in the reflection. He’s well built, tanned biceps straining against the hem of his t-shirt sleeve where his arms cross decisively over his chest. You can’t see his face but you wish you could as his head tilts, dark hair short and spiked in a way that is almost boyish.

They’re arguing. Voices low to avoid making a scene, but their postures are anything but civil. Your nameless hero raises a hand to beckon over an employee—Hanamaki, you quickly recall—from the front desk in an authoritative manner.

You can’t hear much over the quiet rock music reverberating around the gym and the pulse in your ears, but you do latch onto the words “removed from the premises” and “membership cancellation”. In a stunning turn of events, Hanamaki begins to corral the stranger away from the weights area toward the exit.

“Holy…” still stuck on processing the scene, you almost miss it when the larger man turns to address you “…shit”.

The man’s face is still pinched with irritation, but it visibly softens when he sees you watching. It’s a little embarrassing, the effort it takes to keep your jaw from slacking when he smiles sheepishly at you, rough hand scrubbing over the crown of his head in what must be a nervous tic. “Sorry about that—” he pauses, his amicable expression faltering for a moment, “—that was ok, right? I didn’t misread that he was making you uncomfortable?”

You sit up straighter and shake your head, quick to placate his worry. “No! No, thank you so much. I—I wasn’t sure what to do so I just hoped he would get the message,” you reply.

His shoulders relax, the corner of his mouth deepening into a crooked but pleased grin as he stuffs both fists into his sweatpant pockets. “Good to hear, though I’m sorry I didn’t catch on sooner. If anything like that happens again you can always go to the front desk or come find me”.

Glancing across his chest now that he’s facing you, your eyes catch on the embroidered logo over his breast. He must work here. “You work here then? I haven’t seen you before”.

His brows pinch into a frown as he tucks his chin, momentarily glaring at his shirt with the click of his tongue. “Shit. Sorry, I’m pretty bad with losing my name tag, the thing must’ve fallen off somewhere…” you exhale a breath of laughter, endeared by his awkwardness as he steps forward to offer you his hand. “I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, owner and founder of this place. Should probably have my act together by now, huh?”

You take it, palms clammy where they kiss, wrist firm as you shake his and offer your own name. You try not to focus on the difference in size, in how his thumb grazes the peaks of your knuckles, or how his stare is drawn to where your teeth sink into the skin of your bottom lip as you withhold a grin. The touch lingers.

“It’s pretty reasonable to say that most people don’t have their act together,” you say, lacing your words with mirth, “so I won’t hold it against you”.

“I appreciate it,” he replies equally amused, the grip on your hand loosening until he lets go and your fingers curl into a fist as if to keep hold of the heat. Falling into a sudden lull, he appraises you with his mouth pursed into a contemplative pout.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Has this ever happened before?”

“I’m fine. Actually this is the first time something like that has happened here,” you set your sights on the weights left by your feet, phone still laid on the bench between your thighs. Idly, you wonder just how much Hajime could lift, followed by a brief flush of heat and shame. “I’ve been to a lot of the other gyms in the area and never felt comfortable in them until I found this place”.

“Seems the guy had only been a member for a few days, so I want to believe this was an anomaly. I won’t tolerate harassment of any kind here,” you look up in time to see his features soften into something apologetic. “Health, safety and comfortability is priority. I hope this won’t deter you from coming back”.

“Not at all,” even if it had, you would have simply changed the times you came to the gym to avoid any issues. You enjoyed the place too much to give it up over one mishap. Grinning, you add, “I have a strict ‘three strikes and you’re out’ policy for everything in life”.

Hajime snorts, the swell of his cheek sinking slightly as if he were biting the inner flesh between his teeth. “Then this can be the first and the last,” he murmurs, crows feet deepening by his warm eyes—a pale green that reminds you of the first week of spring, when nascent saplings are just beginning to grow into themselves.

“If there’s no other problems then I’ll gladly leave you to finish your reps,” he continues, reigning himself back into a more professional tone, “we’ve escorted him from the building but if you’re parked nearby and still feel unsafe, Makki or I will gladly walk you to your car”.

You can feel it take root in your sternum, a silly little crush. Giddiness spreads through your belly, and you try not to think about how disheveled you probably look. “I’m actually about to wrap up this set!”—you aren’t, the clumsily typed out reps in your notes app would say otherwise—“I would really appreciate that, if you’re happy to wait”.

Hajime nods, momentarily shifting between each foot as if he were tempted to linger. Emboldened by this, you return to the weights at your feet and prepare to squat.

“Ah…“ then, there is a large presence sidling up beside you. “Mind if I correct you a little first?” Hajime motions toward your legs.

Anticipation prickles through you. “Not at all!”

He crouches, careful to ensure his fingers barely apply any pressure to your skin as he coaxes your feet apart, tapping the toe of your shoe to point them further outward. You aren’t uncomfortable, yet you find yourself enduring his proximity with bated breath.

When he stands upright he looks quietly pleased. Less discomfited than before. You’re reminded that this is his job, and presumably what he loves to do. “There. Try one rep for me?”

You exhale steadily, rooting yourself into the new stance and nodding. Bending at the knee, but taking care not to overextend, you lift the kettlebell up and feel a satisfying ache deep in your glutes.

“Much better, right?” he asks, observing you in the reflection of the mirror. “You'll feel it a lot deeper like that”.

“Yeah,” you rasp, tongue idly wetting your bottom lip as you flex your grip on the handle. It was a helpful comment to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself, all the while getting better results. That’s all. “A lot deeper”.

“Great,” he says, pointing vaguely over his shoulder, “come find me by the front when you’re done, then,”

His low, warm tone settles in your chest long after he leaves. He had spoken to you in a soothing yet awkward manner, like a man used to being perceived as intimidating against best efforts. You thought it quite charming. And awfully attractive.

As promised, Hajime is waiting by the entrance. He has both arms folded atop the front desk, leant forward across the surface to talk to Hanamaki. In closing the distance, the first thing you realise is that the tip of his ears are red.

You smile, overhearing the teasing tail end of their conversation, “…on the job? Tut tut, bossman. I’m gonna text your mother about this”.

“Dickhead. You don’t have her number,” at that, a slow, smarmy grin spreads across Hanamaki’s face. Hajime makes a move to snatch his collar and he sinks back against the computer chair, “Give me your phone”.

“I’m sure there is some law out there you’re violating right now,” Hanamaki wheezes, his laughter bleeding into the words. You feel compelled to step away from their brotherly moment, but before you can, your gaze is meeting his. “And with an audience? Impeccable customer service, Iwa—!”

Hajime’s head whips around and his sights settle on your figure. You’re back in a comfortable hoodie, backpack half slung over your shoulder with fingers threaded between your car keys. You have settled them between your knuckles by way of habit.

His eyes widen in realisation, but before he can start to needlessly apologise, you say, “I’m all good to go if you are”.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he replies, jaw shifting with clenched teeth as he shoots Hanamaki a quick glare. “Let’s get you to your car”.

The late evening air is crisp, cooling on your skin as it dances into the sleeves of your sweater. This late into the year, the days turn to night far quicker than you liked. Everything feels slightly more daunting. With your car parked a little to the far end of the lot, black pavement and gravel illuminated only by rust coloured streetlights, you find yourself glad for Hajime’s offer.

“I’m right over there,” you tell him, forefinger pointed towards the vehicle in question and hoping to stir some last minute interaction before you parted ways. There was no telling when you’d get to see him next, given that he clearly didn’t go out into the gym floor too often.

You hear him hum in acknowledgment at your side. He’s close. Though he’d foregone wearing a jacket, the heat still emanating from his body prickles the back of your neck. You wanted to curl up beside it, inside it.

“Not what I pictured you driving,” he jokes, and in the next step he’s lightly nudging your side. Glancing over, you try not to grin at the grimace that follows his words. You can’t tell if he’s simply awkward at conversation or awkwardly flirting—either or would be equally endearing.

“Oh yeah?” you nudge him back to assuage any doubts, feeling just how sturdy he is in comparison. “And what do you drive? Something gaudy, maybe one of those ridiculously big off road cars?”

You count it as a victory to hear him laugh. “Not quite,” he murmurs, tilting to meet your eyes. Suddenly, the lamplight's eerie glow evolves into something atmospheric. Intimate. The two of you have noticeably slowed your pace, reluctant for the moment to end.

“Got my old man’s 1970’s Datsun secondhand. Can barely squeeze my knees in”.

A vintage, you note. Arriving at the bumper of your own car, you run an idle hand over the hood as you circle toward the driver's seat. All the while, you’re watching him with a grin. “Aren’t Datsun’s known for drifting?”

“Not when I’m driving they’re not,” he snorts, a distinct fondness settling into his features as he recalls a memory. “I’ve had it since I graduated. I don’t like buying anything new until what I have is beyond saving”.

Handsome, endearing and respectful. Accountable with his money. Frugal, despite having a good income—you assume. Internally, you can’t help ticking away at the boxes.

“That’s very responsible of you,” you push your keys, wincing at the pitched beep as the doors unlock. “I’d like to see all six feet of you squeezed into it one day”.

“Five eleven,” he corrects, gleaming with amusement. “That a dealbreaker?”

“Honest with his money and his height. You really are an anomaly”.

His smile shifts, slightly wry as he takes another step forward and replies, “Thank you”.

The inside of your cheek is tender between your teeth as you observe him for a drawn out moment, before finally pulling the car door open and throwing your backpack onto the passenger seat. “Thank you,” it clicks, and the ugly charm hanging from your rear view mirror lights up, “for walking me over. I really do appreciate it”.

“You’re sure tonight hasn’t scared you off?”

“I’m sure. I promise to leave a positive review,” you continue to lean against the open door frame without climbing in, still lingering, still wanting to talk to him. “Spacious, clean equipment, good music… oh, also comes with your own personal white knight—”

He barks a laugh, quickly holding his fist against his mouth to muffle the abrupt sound. The swell of his cheeks are lifted and pink when he uncovers his face, just like the tips of his ears, eyes squinted yet bright under the dim lights. “Maybe don’t add that last part. People might get the wrong idea”.

“And what’s that?”

The tension gently shifts as his gaze meets yours, breathing hitched in your throat under his boyish grin. “They might start to think I’d do this for everyone,” he says.

You shift forward slightly with the urge to touch him, like your body was drawn to him instinctively. His hand comes down onto the top of the car door, right beside your own, his heat stark against your skin. It was purposeful, if not cautious. Maybe you shouldn’t be so easily swayed by a handsome smile and common decency, but you trusted the feeling in your gut.

“Somehow I think you would do this for everyone,” you swallow, extending your little finger to meet his knuckle, “you seem like a good guy, Iwaizumi”.

“That…” he clears his throat. Your abrupt sincerity seems to have thrown him off kilter, obvious about his avoidance of your gaze in favour of staring at the place where hands meet. Your heart stutters when he presses into your cautious touch.

And then, followed by a sharp inhale, Hajime is stepping away to maintain a respectful distance from you, fist clenched against his sternum. “Good. That’s good”.

“Yeah,” you give him what you hope is a reassuring smile, “I should get home”.

The tension dissipates and he mirrors your expression, at ease again. One foot in the car and bending, Hajime’s eyes follow as you settle into the driver's seat. He ducks around the door, “I’ll see you later, then?”

“You will,” the engine slowly begins to hum once you twist your key into the ignition. Happy with your answer, Hajime closes the door for you and leaves two departing thuds to the roof of your car.

Glancing through the windshield towards the gym’s entrance, a final thought crosses your mind. Rolling down the window as you pull away, you call out to him, “Make sure to get back quick, before Hanamaki really does start texting your mum”.

He breaks out into a jog, and you can't help but laugh.

#hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader

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slaymitchabernathy · 1 month

Text

Play Nice

“You are an absolute brat and I loathe you,” Coriolanus grits out, covered in sweat, scratches and a little bit of blood as he wrangles her down to the tiled bathroom floor, “I wish I never let you move in with me.”

All that he gets in reply is a hiss and a frustrated yowl.

“Is everything alright in there?” Soarynn calls from the bedroom.

Coriolanus glances at his reflection in the floor length mirror. He looks absolutely pitiful like this. Soaked with bath water, his curls sticking to his forehead, his hands scratched up as he attempts to pin down an eleven pound cat to the ground.

“Perfectly fine darling,” he calls back.

Petunia lets out a loud meow, so loud that you’d think he was strangling her which is fucking impossible the way she’s wiggling around. “This is only going to serve as a momentary lapse in our relationship,” he gasps as he finally manages to get her to hold still, “all that’s left is drying you off and clipping your nails.”

Easier said than done.

Ever so carefully, he reaches for the towel he left on the floor, wrapping it around her until she looks like some sort of puffed pastry. Petunia does not look happy but Coriolanus can’t find it in him to care about that right now. “You’re an absolute diva,” he tells her, shooting the feline a small glare, “you had me fooled in that pet shop all those years ago.”

Coriolanus had gotten Petunia as a gift for Soarynn, as means to give his girlfriend some company while he was away at work. He hadn’t expected the cat to become a tyrant in his own home, prancing around with ribbons on her neck, batting at his ankles and sleeping right in between them.

And she stole his socks. Some things were just unforgivable to him.

She looks a bit like a wet rat right now. Soaked to the bone but he is too. Her normally fluffy, white fur is smoothed down making her appear much smaller than she usually does. Petunia is a ball of fluff, if only her attitude could say the same.

“Do you need help Coryo?”

His eyes widen at his girlfriend’s question and he’s quick to shoot it down. “We’re fine! Just rest darling.”

Normally, Soarynn took on the brunt of Petunia’s personal hygiene. She brushed the cat at least ten times a day and cats are quite clean overall so it was rare for Petunia to be bathed. Usually, they handed that task over to their trusted veterinarian but the vet was closed today and while Soarynn could bathe Petunia with no problem, she wasn’t feeling well. Menstrual cramps seemed to be a constant issue where Coriolanus was concerned. He hated them. Hated how they made the love of his life feel, how helpless she became, how she whimpered in pain as she curled up in a tight ball.

So on the day she had planned to give Petunia a bath, he bravely stepped up to the task. How hard could it be? Petunia was always so well behaved when Soarynn bathed her. Coriolanus even had a photo of Soarynn holding up a swaddled Petunia in her arms, almost like a child with a big smile on her face.

Petunia however, seemed to be dead set on making him regret his selfless decision as she attempted to free her paw to swat at him. “Save your tears for someone who cares about them,” he tells the cat as he ruffles the towel and attempts to dry her off. He glances at the hair dryer that sits on his girlfriend’s side of the bathroom counter but that’s too risky. Water and electricity are a terrible match and with his luck, he’d electrocute both of them.

He’ll just stick with the towel.

꧁ ꧂

By the time he’s finished with the battle of drying and clipping the cats fur and nails, Coriolanus feels as if he’s lost a good two years of his life.

It’s damn near ironic how she happily prances out into the bedroom once he opens the bathroom doors, gasping for air. Petunia runs over to the bed, effortlessly jumping onto it and immediately seeks out Soarynn for comfort.

He can’t see his girlfriend all that clearly with the amount of pillows and blankets she’s got covering her but he hears her chuckle at his attempt of a ribbon around Petunia’s neck. “Oh, you gave him a run for his money, didn’t you my darling?”

Coriolanus scoffs and smooths his hair back as he walks around to her side of the bed and finds her curled up with her heating pad. Petunia is already lying down, her stomach on full display as Soarynn gives her belly rubs. “If our children are anything like her then we’ll need to hire a full-time nanny,” Coriolanus decides right there and then.

Soarynn smirks as she slowly attempts to sit up but he gently pushes her back down. She needs to rest, that’s why he so stupidly agreed to do this suicidal task in the first place. “You know, I do have to move at some point,” she softly reminds him. Coriolanus nods, he knows that Soarynn can’t lie here forever but he’s set on keeping her here as long as possible. Where she’s safe and warm and loved.

Petunia meows, seemingly upset that the attention is no longer on her. “I think if we gave you to Dr. Gaul she’d send you right back,” he says, not at all impressed with the innocent display Petunia is putting on. She hisses at him and tries to swipe at his hand when he reaches for Soarynn.

Soarynn rolls her eyes and scratches the cat between her ears, “Play nice you two.”

Easy for her to say. The cat is obsessed with Soarynn, wants to follow her everywhere, be with her while she showers and brushes her teeth.

Which is unfortunate because Coriolanus is also obsessed with Soarynn and wants to follow her everywhere, and be with her while she showers and brushes her teeth.

If he knew he was in for some competition then he would have gotten her a fish.

“She refuses to share you with me,” he grumbles as he carefully sits on the edge of the bed, his hip next to Soarynn’s head. Soarynn gives him a small smile, “Sounds like someone I know.” He ignores her teasing and runs a loving hand through her soft blonde hair, “Well, that someone clearly adores you with all his heart and made a great sacrifice today by bathing that cat.”

Soarynn giggles and presses a kiss to Petunia’s head, “He also replaced the silk ribbon I normally tie around her neck for a necktie.” Well, now he’s embarrassed. And the tie looks rather sharp in his opinion and Petunia clearly doesn’t mind as she bats at it with her paws. “He was a man with few resources who was trapped with a deadly beast,” he tells her somberly, “be glad he made it out alive.”

Soarynn looks up at him and he nearly melts right then and there at how beautiful she looks.

She’d deny it if he told her how perfect she looks right now. She’d claim that she hasn’t showered yet and that her hair isn’t properly styled and that she hasn’t eaten a decent meal since yesterday afternoon but he doesn’t care. He’s sure he’ll see all sorts of sides of her as their relationship grows and matures. He’s going to hold her hand when she pushes their child into the world and Coriolanus doesn’t doubt that she’ll look absolutely beautiful when she does it.

“Thank you for giving her a bath,” she says. And suddenly all is forgiven. The headache he has is now vaporized. The cuts on his hand healed. His damp curls dry and styled to perfection. Everything seems to be alright with her by his side.

“You’re very welcome my darling,” he replies before leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. He feels a soft sensation on his cheek and in his peripheral vision he can see Petunia rubbing her head against his cheek. Soarynn lets out a breathy laugh, “Looks like all has been forgiven then.”

Coriolanus smiles to himself as Petunia crawls onto Soarynn’s lap and curiously observes the heating pad.

Petunia can be a real pain in the ass. But when he sees how happy she makes Soarynn, how much more Soarynn laughs and smiles because of that cat, it all seems worth it in the end. After all, these are the two most important women in his life. He ought to take care of them.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 year

Text

If I Love You Too (Part 1)

Summary: It’s been six months since the accident. Six months and Jensen can’t stand feeling helpless anymore. He knows he needs to start figuring out how to work again while being a single parent and juggling his concerned family. He absolutely doesn’t want it but he needs help in the form of a live-in nanny to help with the day to day. As much as he didn’t want that nanny or her help, she’s going to make him feel things he never dared to again and in the process, discover that some people in life get more than one soulmate...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jenssen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 9,500ish

Warnings: language, angst, death of a spouse, lying, mentions of injury/death of a spouse/death of a parent, internal turmoil

A/N: Please enjoy the first part of this Jensen POV series! I am SO excited to be sharing this story with you from Jensen’s side!

______

“Hey buddy,” I heard as the door from the bedroom to the private balcony opened. I didn’t move from my seat, stayed still and quiet as the door shut behind me. A hand ruffled my hair and I turned away from the touch. “Want to come downstairs and watch Christmas Vacation with everyone? Kids are down for the count.”

“No thanks,” I said quietly, waiting for my brother to leave me alone again. The hand didn’t leave my hair and I closed my eyes. “I’m a little beat after a long couple days. You guys go ahead without me.”

“Thanks for the new toolset. I really like it,” he said.

“You’re welcome.” I opened my eyes slowly, staring at the wood decking, Josh still playing with my hair.

“Next year won’t be as hard. I promise.”

“Well it was a little hard to try and accommodate my children asking for their dead mother for Christmas,” I said. I held my breathing steady, pulling on all of those little acting strings tucked away in the back of my head to stop myself from saying more. “Maybe we can take all the kids ice skating tomorrow.”

“Sure. Mom and dad would like that,” I said. “Maybe get a real smile on that face.”

I stared dryly at the decking, overdue for a power wash but then again, what did it matter. A little bit of must and dirt didn’t bother me.

“I’m not saying six months is enough time to get over what happened. But find a better therapist for me. This one isn’t-”

“Josh I’m tired. I set up everything all by myself this year. I’m just tired is all. I had fun today. I promise,” I said.

“Alright. Get some sleep then baby brother,” he said, ruffling my hair one last time.

“Not a baby,” I mumbled.

“Hey,” he said. I looked back and up at him. “You’re my baby brother no matter what, understand?” I nodded, Josh returning it. “Sleep in tomorrow. I’ll handle breakfast.”

“Maybe,” I said, turning away, glad for when the door slid open and shut once more. I looked back, Josh gone, before leaning forward in my seat. I looked up at the dark cloudy sky, rubbing my palms together. “Honey if you’re up there…”

I squeezed my eyes shut, quickly forcing them open, scrunching up my face.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Nothing. Numb. But it’s been too long and everyone wants me to be better and...I can’t let ‘em down. It’s been six months. I should be better. But I just don’t...help me. Please. You have my back. I don’t know what to do except pretend the rest of my life and I’m scared what’ll happen if I do. It’s been six months and I can’t take it anymore. Tell me what to do. Please.”

A gentle breeze stirred through the air, a quiet rumble of thunder off in the distance.

“Dee?” I glanced up only to be hit in the face with hard droplets of rain, the sky opening up and pouring down. I blinked the water away, staring down at my lap. “You’re not up there. You’re just fucking gone.”

It took a moment for me to make myself rise, bringing water into the bedroom. I locked up and ditched my wet clothes in the bathroom, standing in front of the shower absently. I caught my reflection in the glass, turning to the floor length mirror, tracing a finger over the scar on my hip. I narrowed my eyes, breathing deeply. I caught my reflection, quickly looking away.

But I forced myself to look back, to meet the hard green eyes, meet the pink edges to them, to look down at the scar and then back up.

“The one fucking time you’re not driving…” I grit out, clenching my fists. “I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you you worthless son of a bitch. If you were driving you could have saved her. You could have stopped it.”

I slammed a fist against my thigh, hitting the scar again. I forced myself to stop, release my hand and instead step in the shower. I turned the water to warm and stepped under the stream, closing my eyes. My skin warmed after a few minutes and I got out, changing into a fresh pair of briefs after I was dry. I stood in the closet, almost reaching for a shirt to sleep in when I went to the other side, flipping on the light. It was mostly empty, a few boxes in there but most of it was given away to family and friends or donated.

I stopped at the items still on hangers, grabbing a gray oversized fleece hoodie. I tugged it on, still too big for me even now. Definitely too big when I was a little twenty five year old. I grabbed the collar and tugged it up, taking a deep inhale, narrowing my eyes when all I smelled was a bit of dust. I hit off the light and went out to the bedroom, crawling into the middle.

I hadn’t worn the sweatshirt in a decade, not long after I started dating Danneel. I pulled up the hood and plopped down, sliding under the covers, turning to face her old side of the bed. It wasn’t too long after that I heard the door crack and hushed whispers filled the room.

“I told you he said he was tired. I mean, he did prep for everyone by himself. I’m tired and all I had to do was drive down here,” said Josh quietly. “Let him sleep.”

I shut my eyes, feeling a blanket be pulled over top of me.

“Sleep good, sweetie,” I heard mom say softly. The door to the room shut a few seconds later and I glanced back at it, plopping back down. I was exhausted. That much was true. I’d been exhausted the past six months. First it was the accident but trying to keep up with different projects and the brewery and suddenly being a single dad was fucking hard.

I rolled over and grabbed my phone, typing into google.

“Ten easy steps to finding a nanny,” I mumbled to myself. “If it’s so easy why’s there’s ten fucking steps…”

I sighed and exited back out, scrolling down the page, finding a more promising one.

“I’m thinking of getting a nanny,” I said the next day while I finished a cup of coffee with my parents and siblings, getting a few stares. “Okay. I see y’all have opinions on that.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” said Jared, smiling as he walked in with some bags in his arms. “You could do with the help.”

“You’ve had nannies before. You have a nanny now,” I said, Jared setting the bags of gifts down by the tree.

“Yeah so I know how useful they can be,” said Jared, getting some quick hugs from everyone. “I need to steal him for like ten minutes. Be right back.”

“Coffee,” I whined, Jared grabbing my hand and dragging me after himself. He pulled me over to the front door, letting me slip into some sneakers before heading outside. “What?”

I was pulled into a bear crushing hug, waiting a beat before I returned it.

“How’d it go, Christmas eve and Christmas and all that,” asked Jared.

“It was great.”

“We don’t lie to each other.” I rested my chin on Jared’s shoulder and closed my eyes.

“Hard,” I said quietly. “Dee’s parents are coming in today.”

“I know they are,” said Jared, rubbing my back.

“You’re supposed to be down at your parents place with your family.”

“I’m supposed to be with my brother. Don’t start your defensive shit. I thought you and your therapist were making some good progress on that.”

“I know,” I said. I hated that stupid lie I’d told. Hated every time someone brought it up. Especially hated when Jared did.

A small piece of me wondered if Jared would leave me too if he ever found out.

“Hey, hey,” said Jared, tugging me around the corner of the garage, holding me up when I started to cry.

“Don’t tell them or anyone,” I said, wiping the tears away with the backs of my hands. Jared caught my arms, my bottom lip wobbling. “Please. They treat me...if they see me get upset…please.”

“I won’t tell,” he said, wiping off the rest of my face while I cleared my throat.

“I good?” I asked, rubbing off my face. I blinked a few times, Jared nodding. He caught my shoulder, gnawing on his bottom lip. “Jared you promised.”

“I’m not gonna tell. I just hate that you’re afraid to let your family see you cry.”

“To be fair I hate to let anyone see me cry.”

“What makes me so special?”

“You’re you,” I said, a small smile on Jared’s face. “Our asses our stuck together forever whether we like it or not.”

“Oh I’m gonna annoy the shit out of you in the afterlife, don’t worry about that,” he chuckled. I nodded, glancing down. “I think the nanny idea is really good. You need help getting the kids to school and daycare and running errands. I mean your parents came up when you went out to LA for your suit being built but...you’ve got to be in Canada for The Boys in February. You’re gonna need help working full time again.”

“I know. I’m so tired all the time. I know that’s why I’m upset. I just need some sleep man.”

“How about tomorrow once everybody’s headed home, you guys come hang out at our place. We can help with the nanny stuff. We’ve been through it. We know the good agencies in town. Gen’s got a whole file on all that stuff.”

“I was thinking of a live-in nanny?” I said. “Is that weird? I feel weird enough having some stranger come in.”

“It’s not weird. I mean you got the guest suite near the garage. If anything you don’t have to stress so much. Someone’s right down the hall. It’s a great idea. I’m proud of you.” I raised an eyebrow, Jared rolling his eyes. “What, I can’t be proud of you?”

“Why? I have to hire a nanny because I can’t figure out how to do it alone when there’s only a gajillion other parents on the planet that don’t have a choice of-”

“You’ve been shitty at asking for help since I met you you know,” said Jared. I shrugged, Jared catching my arm. “I know this is the last thing in the world you want to do, admit you need help, but you’re the one that decided you need a nanny. No one talked you into that. You did that even though you don’t want to. That’s why I’m proud of you, jackass.”

“We were going to get one before…to help Dee out more. When I was away,” I said. I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Next year will be better. I’ll get back to acting, things’ll feel more normal.”

“Don’t go and turn into an optimist on me Jackles. I need my grumpy old man,” chuckled Jared.

“Old man my ass,” I said with a smirk. “You headed back?”

“Nope. Sadly your ass is stuck with me all day,” he said. I smiled, heading back around the front of the house with him.

“Mind giving me some back up in there with all the nanny questions I’m about to get?”

“Duh,” he said. “But first let’s finish your coffee before you bite someone’s head off.”

It’d been three days and I had narrowed it down to three nanny agencies in town. I’d gotten about fifty applications to sort through for interviews, rubbing my hands over my face after reading through most of them.

“Dad! Can I have sugar cookies?” asked JJ, skipping into the office. I glanced at the clock on the wall, an hour past bedtime for all three of them.

“Gettin’ kind of late kiddo. Why don’t you head up to bed and brush your teeth. I’ll be up to read in a minute, okay?” I said, forcing a smile. She stared me down, a look I recognized all too well. “JJ.”

“I know how to read,” she said with a huff.

“Well I guess you don’t need me for anything anymore huh?” I said without thinking, watching her face fall. “Honey-”

She took off running and I sighed as I sat back and stared up at the ceiling. I shook my head and got up, wandering upstairs, surprised to find the twins in bed asleep. JJ was in the middle of her bed, angrily holding her dog. She shot me a dirty look, a perfect match to my own.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You put your brother and sister to bed for me?” I asked.

“Yes,” she grit out.

“You don’t have to do that, sweetie. That’s my job.”

“You have to do everything by yourself now. It’s not fair.”

“No it’s not. You’re too young to learn that life isn’t fair, even if you do everything right.” She scooted over into my lap, burrowing herself into my arms.

“We were good. Why didn’t Santa bring her back?” she asked. I tucked her head under my chin so she couldn’t look up, closing my eyes and scrunching up my face.

“Santa can do a lot. But he can’t do that. No one can,” I said. I stroked her hair, holding her tight. “It’s okay to miss mom still.”

“I know it is. I’m just scared.”

“Scared of what, munchkin.”

“I don’t want you to go.” I looked up, swallowing down the lump in my throat.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. I kissed the top of her head, wrinkling my nose. “How about we save that cookie for a snack tomorrow, okay? I promise we can spend the day playing. I just have to do a little more work tonight.”

“Okay,” she said. She didn’t move and I didn’t have the heart to do it myself. It was one of the rare moments when one of the kids crawled in my lap, crawled all over me playing and poking and kicking, diving into my bed, waking up to one or all three of them having stolen my covers in the night...I could forget for a few seconds. Things were okay.

A few seconds later though she moved and I was biting the inside of my cheek. I put on a smile, tucking her in and turning on her light in the corner before hitting off the overhead one and shutting the door. I went back to my office, staring at the screen. I reached a hand over to my phone on the desk but stopped myself. Jared had spent the whole night before with me.

“You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine,” I breathed out quietly, clicking through to the next nanny profile.

Y/N Y/L/N. 29 Years Old. Home Pair Consultant 3 years. Nanny Core 2 years. Nanny Core Consultant 3 years. Independent Contractor Nanny Services 3 years.

“Certified in CPR and first aid. Homeschool certified K through 2nd grade. You sound like a little over achiever, don’t you,” I mumbled, reading through the rest of the page. “Specializes infants to age ten. Okay what do your ex-employers have to say…”

I found similar comments to some of the previous women, all nice things, got along with kids great, very easy going, etc. But one made my eyes go wide and chuckle.

She didn’t sleep with my skank of a an ex-husband when he pursued her. She brought this news to my attention discretely and regularly took on additional time with the kids while I met with divorce lawyers. It was unfortunate that I could no longer afford to employ her on a single income but she truly cares about the family she works for. My daughters cried for a week when we had to end our services with her but I was very grateful she didn’t brush the incident under the rug.

“Yeah, I think you’re getting an interview for that alone,” I said with a tiny smile. “But what the fuck is a consultant…”

It took a few days but eventually I had the eight prospective nannies lined up for interviews on Saturday. So far all seven were very nice ladies but I just could not stand the thought of occupying the same room for more than an hour let alone have them live in the house. The issue must have been with me if none of them seemed like a good fit. I really didn’t want to be doing this and I must have been putting off some strange vibe.

“Maybe I don’t need a nanny. Maybe...maybe I just don’t need a nanny. I can do this. I can do this on my own. If I just manage work around the kids schedule...and mom and dad come down and watch the kids while I’m up filming and if I fly back and forth every week and mid week...I can do this. I can do this. I don’t need a nanny. I got this. I so got this.”

I sighed when I recalled the same pep talk two weeks ago I’d given myself. The one that led to contemplating quitting acting that night and then proceeding to lay in bed crying half the night.

“Nope. Nope. We just have to calm down. Calm down. It’s not you. Just didn’t find the right one yet. That’s all,” I said to myself, breathing quietly. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, looking over at the coffee maker. “Oh coffee. At least I’ll always have you.”

The doorbell rang and I sighed.

“Great. You’re early,” I groaned. I threw my head back and went to the front door, tearing it open. A woman stood there in a pair of dark jeans and sneakers, a plain light gray t-shirt on, hair pulled back in a ponytail, a few strands falling loose and framing her face.

Oh well she was definitely the cutest by and far.

I realized I was staring and blinked, rubbing my face.

“Hi. You must be from Nanny Core,” I said. She smiled and cocked her head.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N from Home Pair,” she said. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the side of the door, contemplating just slamming it right against it.

“The last girl was from Nanny Core,” I said, opening my eyes, shaking my head. “I’m so sorry. Yes, Y/N. You’re the one that’s a consultant, not firmly associated with Home Pair, right?”

“Correct,” she said, stepping inside when I let her past. She looked around and smiled, seemingly used to a larger sort of home.

“May I ask what the distinction is?”

“Mostly it has to do with benefits,” she said. “Consultants pay out of pocket for their own or negotiate with their client for those to be covered.”

“Gotcha,” I said with a yawn. Great I looked like a fucking asshole. She looked ahead past the front hall towards the back of the house where the kitchen and family room was. I wiped a hand over my face, a pit already in my stomach, the poor girl already probably already waiting for the interview to end so she could leave. “I’m sorry. I must seem like an ass.”

“You seem tired is all Mr. Ackles. Not a crime,” she said with a smile. I wasn’t expecting such a genuine answer, not a bullshit I’ll pander to you cause I want this job, kind of answer. She was different than the other applicants for sure. Something warm and caring to her. I nodded and found myself smiling, probably the first genuine one I’d had in months.

“Mind if we do the interview in the kitchen over a cup of coffee?” I asked.

“Wherever you like, sir,” said Y/N. I started to head over to the table, pausing when she was trying to kick off her sneakers, one of them tied a bit too tightly to go off easily. She hopped once, nearly tripping and I looked away, chuckling quietly before she was by my side again.

“Uh, for the record, call me Jensen. None of that sir stuff. They must teach that at nanny school or something huh?” I said. I led her over to the table, pulling out a chair. “I noticed all of you do it.”

“Something like that,” she said. She took a seat and I stifled another yawn, turning and blinking my eyes, heading to the coffee machine. I reached for the cap to put some grounds in, the thing falling and bouncing across the counter, straight into a dirty bowl in the sink. Naturally. I leaned over the counter, holding the edge tightly, squeezing my eyes shut. “How about I make the coffee and you take a seat, hm?”

“I’m okay,” I said, popping my head up and turning around with a smile. She looked me up and down, something gentle about her.

“Well making you coffee is probably going to come up in my job quite a bit so consider this part of the interview. It’s alright, really,” said Y/N. I stared at her, a little smile forming on her face. She wasn’t sucking up or trying to kiss my ass. There was a kindness to her that was incredibly attractive. Something in that little smile causing the tiniest little flutter. I blinked, slipping past her.

“Thank you,” I said. She started to make a cup, keeping my back to her. I put a hand on my chest, the flutter dissipating. After a moment I sat down, turning back just as the cup started to fill up. She watched it carefully but with an ease that said she was used to working with that kind of maker. Her hand slipped into her back pocket as she shifted on her feet, her ass rounding out amazingly in her jeans.

What the fuck was wrong with me? God she was only making a cup of coffee for fucks sake.

“I’m gonna ask you the same question I’ve asked all seven other women I’ve talked to today,” I said, forcing a smile when she picked up the mug.

“Yes?”

“Why should I trust you to watch my children?”

“Honestly?” she asked. I nodded and she had that look on her face again. Soft. Slightly concerned. Still smiling. Beautiful. She set the cup down in front of me, a look to let it cool, the barest glimmer of a smirk when I reached for it anyways. There was another flutter in my chest and I took a long sip, burning the tip of my tongue. Part of me hated it, hated that it was possible to develop an attraction to anyone else. But that other part...it was so happy to be feeling something again, especially something good. “You shouldn’t.”

“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”

“I wouldn’t trust any stranger with my child. Trust is earned, not given. I think the real question is do you believe I’m capable of earning that trust with you and that’s something intrinsically only you know.”

“How so?”

“You meet a lot of different kinds of people with this job. My gut reaction to you is stressed, overwhelmed, sleep-deprived father who doesn’t really want any nanny at all but is forced into this situation. It’s going to be impossible for you to trust any of the seven woman from earlier or me off the bat, Jensen. You should be thinking of who will you come to trust. Who can you count on.”

“This is why my wife should have been the one doing this,” I said. I took a sip of coffee, biting back a small smile.

“We could always re-schedule for when she’s available.”

“Oh, we’d have to wait a very long time for that,” I chuckled. She looked lost and I realized it was time for that part of the interview again. I smiled, hoping she wouldn’t feel awkward. “She passed away unexpectedly six months ago. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Y/N. I nodded, pursing my lips, catching her open her mouth after a beat. “My mom died kinda unexpectedly. I know it’s…harder.”

“You’re young. How old?” I asked. She shrugged, glancing down.

“Turned thirty today,” said Y/N. She was cute, still young but she was starting to click. Her kindness, that air about her. Maybe she could sense something going on but was too polite to ask. I let out a small laugh, shaking my head when she started to frown.

“Well Happy Birthday. I meant with your mother though. If that’s okay with you I mean.”

“It’s fine. I was sixteen,” she said. I dropped the smile and took a deep breath. No one deserved that. Especially not a kid. I was a grown man and I could barely handle a loss that close. But she seemed...okay.

I just wanted to be okay again. It’d been too long though and I cleared my throat.

“That…fucking sucks doesn’t it?” I said.

“So does losing your wife,” said Y/N. I nodded and offered a soft smile.

“Yes it does. I’ve grieved. We all have. The kids are small. They’ll be okay.”

“Is dad okay?” she asked. Not really but that was far too much to put on anyone, especially a stranger.

“Yes. Ready to start moving on with life again,” I said, looking her up and down once. I hope she accepted the offer. She didn’t have to be perfect. She didn’t have the most certifications out of all of the applicants but she was the only one I genuinely enjoyed being around and that was the most important thing at the end of the day. “You’re kind. Not in a I’m trying to get this job kind of way. Just kind.”

“Well being cruel doesn’t sound like very much fun.”

“You’re not trying to impress me.”

“The first rule of nannying, Jensen. You think you’re interviewing us when in reality we’re interviewing you too.”

“How am I doing so far?” I asked, realizing after the words were out how flirty it sounded.

“Nice coffee choice,” she said with a smile. “You respect people. You’ll employ me but won’t treat me like I’m second class. You’re checking the boxes so far.”

“What if I don’t check all the boxes?” I asked.

“You don’t get to know the luxury of knowing the answer yet, Mr. Ackles,” said Y/N. “Interview isn’t over.” It wasn’t arrogance in her voice when she spoke though. Almost careful, protective.

“You got fucked over by somebody, didn’t you.”

“Also perceptive,” she said, rubbing her arm absentmindedly. “Like I said, I don’t tolerate being treated unkindly anymore. It’s why I left my last position.”

“I have one more question. Would you treat my children like they’re your own?”

“Again, asking the wrong question,” she said. I sat back and crossed my arms, smirking at her. She gave it right back and I nodded.

“What exactly should I be asking?”

“Will you treat my children kindly and with respect but take charge when required?”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is me doing my job and the other is me doing yours.”

“How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty today.”

“Right. Well I think I know where I stand. Do you have anything for me?” I asked. Hopefully she just accepted the pay offer without a fuss.

“Can you show me a picture of your kids?” she asked. I stared for a brief moment before reaching back and taking out my wallet. “You answered my question.”

“I didn’t show you anything yet.”

“You’d be surprised how many fathers I’ve met don’t carry pictures of their children in their wallets. That one is just a me thing.”

“Your dad do that?” I asked, putting it back. She made a face, looking away.

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. She didn’t look back for a long moment. Dead mom at 16 and distant dad. It wasn’t a stretch to see how a girl like that wound up nannying straight out of high school. “I think I know where I stand as well.”

“I’d like to hire you,” I said. She smiled and I instantly relaxed, aside from a few flutters stirring again.

“Assuming our negotiations go well, I accept,” she said. We shook hands, hers small and soft, but the grip was solid. Kind but she’d kick your ass if she had to. I smiled, flutters going off stronger now that the nerves of finding someone were dwindling.

“I did come up with what I thought was fair for salary and benefits. Let me go grab the paperwork and hopefully settle on something,” I said. I went down to the office, grabbing the pile of offer papers off the desk and a notebook. I froze when a pleasant chill ran down my spine.

I was happy because I’d found a good fit. I was excited over a lot of stress being gone.

That was it. That was it.

I swallowed and went back out to the kitchen with a smile.

“If I’m missing anything let me know. I-”

“This is my weekly rate?” she asked when she reviewed her pay sheet.

“Oh no. That’s your daily,” I said as I sat down. I swallowed when she put the paper down. “So I think that’s-”

“Jensen. I have to ask, things like insurance, are those coming out of your pocket or mine?”

“I’ll cover the expenses of your health, dental, all of that. You just choose and I’ll subsize it as part of your paycheck.”

“This is for a live in position. Um…can you just…explain what makes up that daily rate number?” she asked. I cocked my head. I thought I’d spelled it out in the paperwork but I probably missed something.

“It’s simply your base pay. Obviously I pay for housing, utilities, gas obviously. I will get you a credit card to make purchases with for the kids and all of that so it’s simple to keep track of. You’re free to any of the food in the kitchen. I’m guessing the salary is the sticking point here.”

“Jensen,” she said, scratching her head.

“I can go up fifty more dollars a day,” I blurted out.

“Jensen. This is way, way too much money. Way too much,” she said. “The average rate around here is about twenty five an hour or two hundred a day. Jensen this is double that. Are you factoring in like time and a half for additional nights and weekends?”

“No. That’d be on top of that. I thought that was a fair value based on the fact you are going to be taking care of the most valuable things in my life. It’s gonna get taxed too so it’s not like you see all of it.”

“You’re sweet, Jensen,” she said, writing down a number at the top of the page. “The average in Austin is twenty five an hour. I would be very happy with that.”

“You have to literally be the first person in existence to negotiate their salary down from the offer,” I said, shaking my head. She was watching my kids. She deserved to be paid well for doing her job well.

“Are you rejecting my offer?” she asked. She stared and I took the paper and crossed her number out, jotting down thirty five and spinning it back. “Jensen.”

“Y/N,” I said, crossing my arms. Why couldn’t she just accept? She scowled and I huffed. Of course she had a stubborn side. “I came down. Now it’s your turn. Do you accept?”

“I will accept on the condition that you get four hours of what we’d call evening or weekend at the normal rate every week.”

“I can agree to that,” I said with a smile, writing that down, happy when she signed the page. “So medical plan. Single, plus one, family?”

“Single for all that.”

“I should mention that there is an in-law suite off to the other side of the garage where you’ll be staying. It’s just down the hall but it has its own small living area and kitchenette. There is a separate entrance to it. If you have guests over I just ask you keep them to your area of the house.”

“Absolutely. I don’t tend to bring people over much anyways while I’m on the job,” she said. “Alright. Everything looks good to me.”

“Awesome. Are you available to start Monday?”

“Sure,” said Y/N. “It gives me plenty of time to move in things tomorrow so I can jump into the kids routine first thing Monday.”

“Perfect. I’ll show you around. We can start with your side of the house.”

I got up and Y/N followed me down to the guest suite in the front corner of the house. I opened the door for her, Y/N slipping inside and looking around. It wasn’t large but it was decent enough for one person.

“Like I said, I know it’s small. Please like, seriously watch TV out in the family room at night if you want or hang out wherever or the yard or pool. This is just your own space when you want to be away from us.” I said. I got a hum out of her and showed her the rest of the space, Y/N running her hand over the bedding. “If there’s something obvious I’m missing please let me know. A cleaning service does come by every two weeks on Tuesdays at around ten in the morning. They’ll do in here too. Otherwise you can keep after yourself. Cleaning stuff is in the laundry room. Oh yeah. Um, this is probably the last time I’ll like, ever come in here unless you need help moving things in since this will be your space.”

“Thanks. I don’t have too much. I do have one request before we sign all the paperwork.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to meet the kids if that’s alright. There’s not much point in hiring me if they hate me.”

“Fair point. We’ll get ‘em over here and then get you all squared away,” I said. “One second.”

“Of course,” she said. I stepped out of the suite and ducked into the garage, Jared answering on the second ring.

“Get through all the interviews?” he asked.

“Yeah. I uh, hired the last girl. She’s great. Super qualified, really get along with her,” I said.

“Good man. I’m glad you found one. When’s she start?”

“Monday. But she wants to meet the kids, says if they don’t like her there’s not much point in her doing this.”

“Smart lady,” chuckled Jared. “I’ll drop ‘em off in ten. You can tell me how it went when I get there.”

“Sounds good,” I said. I shoved my phone back in my pocket, smiling for a moment when I stepped back in the hall and caught a whiff of her perfume. I went back to the doorway, Y/N fumbling with the curtain in there. “Uh so is there anything I can get you? For your room?”

“No, this is great. Can I check out the rest of the house?” asked Y/N. I hummed and followed her as she wandered around the downstairs a bit, poking her head in the office and home gym, spotting the laundry room and humming.

“The playroom is downstairs, kids and me are up,” I said. “There’s a loft and little reading room up here too if you like that sort of thing.”

“Your home is beautiful,” she said, walking up the stairs, following me down the hall. She smiled when she entered, looking at the bookcase. “You read these.”

“Hm?”

“Some people buy pretty books for their home libraries. But these are all random, a little messy. You read,” she said. She stopped at the sliding door out to the small balcony, looking out at the yard. “Your house feels homey for how large it is.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Anywhere besides my room is free to use.”

“Of course. I take it you do your own laundry then?” she asked.

“I’m a big boy. I can do my own laundry,” I said. She hummed, spinning back with a soft smile. “Um. Y/N. Chores and things like that...those are my responsibility, not yours. You’re here to-”

“I have to do some chores. It’s part of taking care of kids. My job is to take care of them but also make dad’s life easier. If I have to wash a bedspread or go get juice from the store or whatever it is, I’m gonna do it. I’ll hang back but I’ll also do my job.”

“Understood. You’ll let me know if I’m stepping into your territory?” I asked. She shook her head and hummed, walking past me and out to the hall, going down to the kids rooms. “I miss the joke?”

“I’ve worked for one other single parent before and three divorced ones. They couldn’t do jack shit for their kids. They barely knew them. I don’t think I’ll have that problem with you Jensen,” she said.

“To be honest I’d rather not be doing this,” I said. She didn’t seem disappointed in that strangely, more, sad almost. “But I’ll get the hang of it.”

“Yes you will,” she said, stopping outside Arrow’s room. “Youngest daughter?” she said, pointing inside.

“I’m sorry. We were looking for what is youngest daughter,” I said. She rolled her eyes and smiled, following me inside. “This is Arrow’s room. She and my son Zeppelin are twins. He’s across the hall.”

“I’m going to guess four years old?” she said.

“How’d you know?” She smirked and pointed at a birthday card sticking out from the bookcase, a large 4 on it. “You’re very observational.”

“I’ve nannined a lot of 4 year olds. Their rooms tend to be organized chaos,” she said. She looked out the window, back to the room.

“Can I ask why you do that?”

“Fires,” she said with a shrug. I blinked, not even considering that for a second. “Never hurts to be over prepared. I’ll learn the house soon. This is your son’s room?”

“Yeah,” I said, following her across the hall, Y/N popping out after a moment. “My oldest is next door. The kids have a bathroom they all share across.”

“What grade is she?” asked Y/N, stepping into the room.

“First. Second. Second,” I said. “She’s seven.”

“What’s her name?”

“JJ. Well, Justice Jay, but she’s always JJ.”

“What was your wife’s name, if that’s okay.”

“Danneel,” I said with a quick swallow. She smiled, laughing to herself.

“Should have known with names like that mom had to have something unique too,” she said. “So JJ is in school. What about the little ones? They have daycare?”

“Yeah they go to daycare normally five days a week but sometimes if it’s a quiet day I don’t have them go. Or one goes and I spend some time with the other. They already know how to do shit I didn’t learn until first grade,” I said.

“This one’s a reader too,” she said, picking up a book from the nightstand. “She’s ahead for her age.”

“That’s what the school tells me. If only she was as good at her math,” I said.

“It’ll click for her eventually. She’s smart. Probably a visual learner. I used to draw problems out myself,” she said, setting the book down. “Any after school activities? Sports? Clubs?”

“I have a calendar I’ll show you. It’s the only way I keep it straight,” I said. She went past and to the hall, glancing down the long stretch of hallway, a pair of double doors on the other end. “That’s my room.”

“Okay then,” she said.

“I mean...you can look if you want.”

“I’m going to give you the same courtesy as well. I won’t be going there unless there’s an emergency.” I nodded, turning to head back downstairs, accidentally bumping her.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, Y/N giggling and shaking her head at me.

“Dude. Relax. My job is to make you more relaxed so get on that, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“What am I gonna do with you Jensen,” she teased, heading back down the hall and her feet on the steps down after a moment. I glanced down and put a hand on my stomach, sliding it up to my chest. I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath.

I was nervous. Or excited. Or something. Happy to have found a nanny. That was all. That was really all.

“Y/N I’ll be down in a minute. The kids should be here soon,” I called, quickly ducking into my room and closing the door. I sat down against it, staring ahead blankly. “It’s a crush. S’just a crush.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my palms against my head.

“Jensen,” said Jared and I jumped, the door pushing open. I looked up, Jared quickly shutting the door and kneeling down. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Where’s Y/N?” I asked, blinking a few times.

“Playing with the kids in the yard. They kinda love her already. What is going on?” he asked. I held up a hand before shrugging. “No no. You’re not getting off the hook that easy. What happened?”

“She made me coffee,” I said, Jared making a face.

“I don’t understand what you’re-”

“Do you remember when you met Gen? You couldn’t get her out of your head for weeks. That feeling when...some part of you knows something you don’t?” I said.

“Jay. What are-”

“Do you remember?”

“Of course I do. Why?”

“I just had it for the second time in my life,” I said. Jared sat down on his bottom, crossing his legs. “I’m kinda freaking out.”

“Y/N?” he asked. I nodded, Jared sliding over next to me. “I mean she’s pretty. She’s beautiful. You might just have a crush. I mean you don’t go anywhere anymore except the store or work or doctors appointments. Maybe it’s just cause she’s new...and you know the difference between a crush and something else. You’re sure?”

“Not to be a complete fucking sap but I only ever felt like this once in my life and that was after that first real conversation with Dee I had when we carpooled. It took me a week to figure out what it was but I knew and it’s that same…” I said. Jared nodded, throwing his arm over my shoulders. “I barely know the girl. It’s a crush. It’s a crush. That’s it. That’s all it is. That is all that it is.”

“Not to be a complete fucking sap myself but when you know dude you fucking know. You’ve been through it once and you know what it feels like. Maybe...maybe it is just a crush. But maybe she’s the one that’s gonna get you to be fucking happy again. Maybe get you back out there at least. Maybe she’s just a jumpstart huh? Not saying you’re gonna marry the girl or she’s your soulmate but maybe she’s what you need right now, right?”

“Jared. I was never going to date again. Ever. Pretty women...I didn’t care about them. I don’t think I’ve even gotten off since the accident. I just wanted to be a good father and be good at my job and that was all that was left for me,” I said. Jared sat up and shook his head but I shook mine right back. “I know that’s not what I told you but you just wouldn’t shut the fuck up about that shit so I told you what you wanted to hear.”

“Ignoring that fucked up shit, which we’re gonna fucking talking about,” he said as I rolled my eyes, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I swore off women forever and now my stomach is doing flips like it’s my first middle school dance but it’s…”

“It’s what?”

“I talked to her for half an hour. That’s the best fucking half hour of my life these past six months. Easily. I don’t feel like shit around her and right now, I don’t feel like shit and I forgot how fucking good it feels to not feel like shit. Do you understand?” I asked. Jared nodded, pulling me into a hug. “What do I do?”

“Not feel like shit,” he said. I groaned and he rested his chin on my shoulder. “Jared.”

“If she makes you feel good and happy when you actively were against those things, what do you think she’ll be able to do for you if you give her a real chance?”

“I’m her boss. And Dee-”

“Dee doesn’t want you to spend the rest of your life being a good father and good at your job and feeling like shit and nothing else. She wants you to fall in love again and fall as hard as the first time.”

“It’s just a stupid crush,” I said. I stood up, walking across the room, putting my back to him. Only a second passed before I felt him behind me, a hand on top of my head.

“Maybe it’s a stupid crush. Maybe she is the start of your life again too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, his hand sliding down to my back.

“Remember the first time I helped you shower after the accident?” he said, curling his fingers around my waist. “Bit my fucking head off the entire time while I helped you stand up.”

“Yes I remember,” I grumbled. I crossed my arms, still not turning around.

“That was the first day I saw you after the accident that you weren’t loaded up on pain killers and you were different. You’ve been different.”

“Gee golly Jared. I wonder why?”

“Past six months...you’re still that guy in the shower yelling at me that he doesn’t need help.”

“Just because I don’t want to date again doesn’t mean I’m fucked up. I’m forty two with three little kids. There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to fall in love again,” I snapped, spinning around. He nodded, smiling to himself. “What.”

“You make it sound like you’re gonna have a choice in whether you fall in love when you meet the right person.”

“I’m not gonna fucking fall in love with some girl I just met. There’s a million reasons why it won’t happen.”

“You’re not gonna have a fucking choice.”

“It’s all my choice,” I grit out. Jared shook his head and I clenched my fists.

“I’ve known you over sixteen years. Better than any other human being. I haven’t seen a real smile on your face in over half a year. Except when I came in here and you were sitting there with the stupidest grin on your face talking about Y/N. It works out, it doesn’t work out. Either way, you’re along for the fucking ride so you might as well enjoy it.”

I swallowed, glancing down.

“Have you ever lied to me in the past six months about how you’re doing? How’re you feeling? Anything?” asked Jared. The therapist lie shot to the front of my mind, logic coming in and screaming shut up, more logic coming in to say it’s Jared, it’s okay. “I’m guessing by the mental gymnastics you look like you’re going through, that’s a yes.”

“Jared-”

“I could have done a lot more to help you. I let you fester on your own and-”

“I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m an adult.” I frowned and walked in front of him, Jared pursing his lips. “Leave.”

“Jensen.”

“Leave.”

“No.” He shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I get to take care of you because I love you. If you don’t like that well tough shit.”

“Get the fuck out of my house and stay out,” I growled. Jared looked down, shaking his head and walking away. He was out of the room when my skin prickled, the happy flutter feelings gone, a pit opening up instead. “Jared. Jared.”

I went to the door, catching him halfway down the hall.

“Jared.”

“I’m going.” He turned the corner, beanie out of view. Fuck. I ducked back in the room, sitting on the bed, toes curling into the fabric. My head was face down in my knees when the door opened softly. My eyes darted over, Jared walking back inside, pulling his beanie down over my head. “I wasn’t going anywhere. Just had to see if you’d ask for help.”

“I’m not very good at it. Obviously,” I said.

“No. No you are not. But what’s in the past, we can’t change it. Just what’s in front. And for you that is the cute nanny that you may or may not end up falling in love with.”

“Jared I can’t love her.”

“Why not?”

“I love Dee. She was it.”

“I’m not saying to stop loving Dee. Shit she’d never want you to do that. But honestly, does she want you to be like this for the rest of your life? Or does she want you to laugh and smile and find a best friend again?”

“I know she wants me to be happy. I know what she wants. You don’t get it.”

“Then help me get it.”

“Say I fell in love again. Say I managed to find the right person and I fell in love. I gave her everything I have left and I’m happy. Then she gets in an accident one day or she has an aneurysm one day or she gets mugged one day or whatever it is. Say she doesn’t come home one day. I can’t put myself through that again. I just can’t. It would destroy me. I can’t do that again.”

“I won’t tell you what to do, Jay. I’d never say that. But you have a choice to make then from what I’m hearing you say.”

“What?”

“Stay single, be afraid of being hurt again and get by. Or risk being hurt again and maybe you get hurt, maybe you don’t, but you’ll be out there living again. Dude if you never want to date again that is completely your choice. But don’t not date because you’re afraid. It’s like I said before, like you were saying, if you find that girl, the right girl, you won’t have a choice at all.”

“She’s my employee,” I said, shifting my legs, sitting cross legged. “Not to mention I don’t even know if she’s single. You saw her. No way is a beautiful woman like that on her own. Then there’s the age difference and the kids thing and the whole I’m an actor thing and-”

“Didn’t say to propose to her. Just...put out some feelers. Maybe if the topic comes up and she’s single, mention you got a friend that’s like you, see if there’s interest.”

“God I hope she’s single,” I said. He smirked, bumping my shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Tell me about her,” he said.

“I don’t know a whole lot,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

“But you like her.” I nodded, getting another bump. “I think you’re gonna marry that girl.”

“What?” I laughed. “We don’t even know if she’s single!”

“Nah, you’re gonna marry her. I got a feeling.”

“Oh I see. A feeling.”

“I’ve known you over sixteen years and haven’t been able to get through that thick head. She’s known you half an hour and she got in without even trying. I wonder where I got that idea from,” he said. I lifted my head, Jared’s face relaxed. A lump formed in my throat and he reached out, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Jensen. I heard it in your voice when you called me just now. Something’s different.”

“I don’t want to be in a relationship,” I said. “I honestly don’t.”

“Maybe she’ll be the one to make you change your mind on that.”

“She’s not even interested in me. I’m a widow with 3 small kids. I’m away from home a lot. I’m the worst person in the world to date.”

“Maybe. But you’re a pretty good person to love and be loved by. Might just be enough, even for a grumpy Ackles.”

“She did make me coffee,” I said quietly, lip twitching up.

“Coffee?”

“I know. But it’s...I don’t know. Something...changed. She was pretty when I opened the door but when she made me coffee, that’s when I noticed that feeling.”

“Maybe she’ll make you coffee again,” he said, smirking as he stood up. “Outside.”

“Hm?”

“Outside with the cute nanny. Let’s go,” he said, dragging me off the bed to my feet. He pulled off the beanie and pushed me out of the room, being a little shit and trying to pick me up. I kicked my feet up and we both went backwards, Jared grinning and giving me that look.

“Oh you’re on little shit,” I said, flipping my leg around, Jared yelping as he got pulled down to the side. I jumped on top of him, Jared rolling me back. A spark of pain shot down my hip, Jared instantly up and off. “I’m alright.”

“You stretching it out still like you’re supposed to?” he asked. I rolled my eyes and he helped me to my feet, waiting as I did a few wide circles with my leg. “Do your at home physical therapy ya idiot.”

“I”m perfectly fine. Just save the wrestling for the rug next time,” I said. “You want to say hey to Y/N?”

“No that’s cool. I’m sure I’ll properly meet her when you’re ready for me too,” he said. “Oh and Arrow and Zeppelin ate way too much candy at my house so have fun with that.”

“I hate you.” He grinned and let out a chuckle. “Hopefully they burn off some running around out there at least.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said. “Do you want to grab a drink later? Maybe hit up the brewery?”

“I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my arm for a moment.

“Do you want to be on your own tonight?” I blinked, Jared shrugging. “Might as well be point blank about it. Since you’re never lying to me again, right?”

“Let me call up the neighbors, see if the girl next door can watch the kids tonight. I wouldn’t mind a little fun,” I said.

“Shoot me a text and I’ll swing by around eight,” he said.

“Jared.” He stopped turning to leave and I sighed. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m...we rarely fight. Rarely. But this is kinda big and I want to tell you the truth but I’m scared if I do you’ll walk out that door and never look back.”

“We can fight, Jensen. I’m sure we’ll have more someday. We can get pissed as hell at each other. But your ass is stuck with me forever and I’m stuck with yours. I know you and I love you and you’re my big brother. We’re not supposed to agree all the time. We’re gonna hurt each other sometimes. That’s just part of being a family though. I’ll never walk out on you just like I know you won’t do that to me. It’s different right now. I know. I don’t want this to stress you out. You got enough of that going on. Tell me when you’re ready okay?”

“I never saw a therapist. I lied to get everyone off my back when I was still...like this after a few months. I thought I could handle it on my own. I’m sorry for lying, especially to you.” Jared nodded, biting his bottom lip for a moment. “You’re angry.”

“Angry at myself, not you. I know what it’s like to feel alone, that alone. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I’m sorry you’ve felt that alone Jensen. I didn’t realize you felt that badly and I should have. That’s why I’m upset. Not at you.”

“You’ve grown up more,” I said quietly.

“If we can get back to me being the one freaking out over shit and you being the adult I’d prefer that,” he chuckled. He put his hands on my shoulders and smiled. “I got your back. Always.”

“I don’t want to go to one.”

“You’re a big boy. You can decide on your own. Just...call me when you feel shitty next time?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Or to talk about Y/N,” he teased. I rolled my eyes, Jared giving me a quick hug.

“Dick.”

“But I’m your dick. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See ya.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#supernatural #spn #Jensen x reader #Jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfic #Jensen series #Jensen #Jensen x nanny!reader #Jensen pov

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gravitycavity · 4 months

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Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 2 - Lifeline

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Cover art by @sunification

Pomni wrinkled her nose. Somehow, the air in her room smelled even staler than yesterday.

Balancing on a wobbly pile of letter blocks, she stretched to reach the sole remaining object atop her cleaned-out dresser. Surely, at least one of the books up there had to be actually readable. Right?

Snatching it, she hopped to the floor and slid her hand across the smooth, untextured cover. She prayed that the pages wouldn’t be blank, torn to shreds, or hollowed out and filled with eldritch sludge like the others. Swallowing, she turned the cover, and…

…wingdings. A complete novel written entirely in Wingdings.

Pomni’s eye twitched. She’d turned her entire bedroom upside-down in search of something to occupy her unraveling mind — but the living space was, in practice, just a padded cell with a touch of extra flair. The books were only for show. The assortment of toddler toys scattered on the floor seemed to have been placed there just to mock her. The tacky chandelier hurt to look at, and window-bare walls were a silent reminder: No way out.

The sole object that had a practical use was the standing mirror by her bed — and Pomni much preferred that it didn’t. Each day, the mirror confronted her with her obnoxious new body. She was a jester. A fool. An entertainer, devoid of wit or talent, whose inherent patheticness was considered a punchline in itself.

Pomni snarled at her reflection; her reflection snarled back. Was that what they thought of her? Pomni the jester: a sad, helpless idiot to be pointed and laughed at? Was that why it was so important for her to smile?

It didn’t matter how she really felt, who she really was, or what she really wanted. Like it or not, Pomni was the Amazing Digital Circus’ newest wacky character — she was expected to just forget her feelings and play her part, lest she rain on everyone else’s parade.

She gripped the novel tightly.

All out of tears, Pomni screamed, hurling the useless book at the mirror with all the force she could muster. The mirror shattered with a tremendous crack, scattering countless shards of polished glass all across the room.

…And for what? She still felt just as terrible.

“I want to go home…” Pomni crumpled breathlessly to the floor, gripping the sides of her head. “Let me out of here! Let me OUT!”

This couldn’t be forever. It just couldn’t. The exit. She had to find it. The exit. She had to escape. She knew it existed. It had to. Caine was lying. Everyone was. Everyone. There had to be an exit. She saw it. The void. She did. What was on the other side? What was Caine trying to hide from her? He knew something. They all knew something, and she wasn’t going to stop until she—

A horrible, biting pain stabbed the tips of Pomni’s fingers, breaking her out of her vicious thought loop. Her twitching gaze leapt to the source.

Black. Her fingers had turned completely black.

“What…?” Pomni whimpered, watching the darkness creep across her trembling palms. The pain was unbearable — but Pomni forgot all about it once a large eye sprouted in the center of her palm, its pupil twitching erratically against a flashing neon white.

“No…” Pomni recoiled. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. "No, no, no!”

She swore to herself that this couldn’t be happening, but even she didn’t believe it. Kaufmo had been just like her — driven to madness by the same kafkaesque horror she now found herself trapped in. Just like her, he had holed himself up in his room for days on end. Just like her, he’d searched tirelessly for a way out of the circus.

And the reward for his efforts? He now languished with the other forsaken souls in the cellar, condemned for all time without even his own mind for comfort.

And Pomni was next.

“Calm down! Please! Just…” Warm tears streamed down Pomni’s cheeks as the creeping black crested her shoulders. It couldn’t end like this. It just couldn’t. The abyss of insanity stretched infinitely below her, and Pomni’s mind grasped desperately for something — anything — to prove to herself that this new life was one worth living.

Her eyes squeezed shut.

Her breathing slowed.

The thought of the softhearted soul who had listened to Pomni’s cry for help — who had told her it was okay to feel, whose kind words had numbed the pain — speared through the dark clouds like golden rays of light.

Ragatha. Again and again, the woman’s soothing voice sounded within Pomni’s psyche, and little by little, the burden of eternity was lifted from her shoulders. The abstraction retreated back toward Pomni’s fingers, and the screaming pain it wrought muted into a quiet purr.

Deep breath in, deeper breath out.

In and out.

In, and…

The clock ticked softly. Pomni cracked open a single eye, one hand cradling her thumping chest. Her gaze shined brightly, sweeping across her arms, wrists, and hands.

She was safe.

Besides the few seconds it took to swipe the tears off of her face, Pomni didn’t waste any time. Though her wobbly legs could barely carry her, she fought to stand anyway, pointing her head toward the one thing in her room that she’d never bothered to look at until now.

The door.

🎪 🎪 🎪

Gangle let out a squeal of pure joy. “Today’s going to be a good day. I can feel it!”

“Gee,” Ragatha’s head tilted aside, “you’re awfully chipper today, Gangle.”

The mirthful smile on Gangle’s mask added a drop of life to the big top’s otherwise-sterile atmosphere. “Of course! I get so lonely when the day is over, you know? I’d much rather be here with you guys!”

Ragatha smiled. “I couldn’t possibly agree more.”

Neither Zooble nor Kinger bothered to weigh in on the conversation, but Ragatha figured that Kinger, at the very least, would share Gangle’s sentiments. The walking paradox often kept to himself, but he never went as far as to shut out the rest of the world. He could set up his pillow forts anywhere, after all, yet he always did so in close proximity to others.

If only a certain someone was the same.

Ragatha toyed with the fabric of her dress. No matter what she did, she just couldn’t get that new girl out of her head.

Other than yesterday’s disastrous filming session — which a kicking and screaming Pomni had been forced to attend — the poor thing had done nothing but languish in her room since her arrival. Clearly, she was in desperate need of a soft shoulder to cry on, but given how hard she was taking things, getting close enough to form any sort of friendship would be easier said than done.

But it wasn’t all doom and gloom. Yesterday, Ragatha had seen for herself that it was possible to break through. Pomni had hidden it quickly, but Ragatha swore she had seen her smiling. And what a lovely smile it was.

A three-second daydream ended with Ragatha’s gaze turning inward. What was she thinking? She was only setting herself up for disappointment. Unless Caine forced her out again, Pomni would probably never—

Ragatha perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned on a dime — but her face fell once she saw who was behind her.

“What’s the matter, Buttons?” Jax’s slick stride didn’t falter for even a second. “Was it something I said?”

Ugh. Two sentences in, and Ragatha was already exhausted. “I have one button on my face, Jax. One. That name doesn’t even make sense. Try harder.” She huffed, closing her posture, “Or — here’s an idea — you could try using my actual name for once.”

“Yeesh. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed…”

“No, Jax.” Zooble rolled their eyes, “You’re just an &$#hole.”

Gangle held in a giggle.

Jax scowled. He opened his mouth to fire back, but the sudden pomp and circumstance that filled the big top made his fur stand on end. Floating bugles sang with regal fanfare. Rainbow confetti rained from above. An invisible percussionist pounded on a timpani, building up to the final, dramatic climax:

With a precise flourish, Caine made his grand entrance. “Good morning, my cute little clique of carnies—”

“Ew. Nope. Start over.” Zooble crossed their arms. “We’re not your cute little anything, Caine.”

Just like that, the ringmaster disappeared, only to reappear a half-second later with the exact same routine. “Good morning, my sophisticated society of sagacious sausage-sizzlers!”

“The #@$& does that mean!?”

Disappear, reappear. “Good morning…” Caine hesitated, “…everyone!”

Zooble sighed. “How is this my life…?”

“Good to see you too, Zooble.” Caine lifted his tophat to let Bubble out — and the little gremlin immediately started running his mouth.

“Oh, oh! I just thought of something fun, Caine! Let’s go on an adventure today!” Bubble flew in tight circles around his master. “C’mon, let’s go! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s g—”

Caine popped Bubble with a well-placed poke. “What a novel idea!” He snapped his fingers, and an enormous, hand-painted backdrop of a spooky forest dropped in from who-knows-where. “Somewhere in the dark, dismal depths of the digital forest, an old mansion sleeps, undisturbed for eons…”

“Oh, this sounds fun!” Gangle clasped her ribbons together. “I love it when there’s lore!”

Jax rolled his eyes. “Oh, good. Gangle thinks it’s important, which means we can safely skip over it.”

Caine cleared his throat, despite not really having one to speak of. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to venture inside this spooktacular chateau and secure the precious heirloom hidden within — the brilliant bronze brooch of the manor’s malevolent matriarch, Margarethe MacGuffin!”

Somehow, Bubble was already back. “Vroom, vroom!” he chirped, “There she goes, driving the plot!”

“But don’t expect it to be a simple walk in the park, my valiant vegetables! You’ll need to keep your wits about you to navigate a lengthy labyrinth of tricky traps and perplexing puzzles — not to mention a scintillating suite of supernatural sentries!”

🎪

Pomni shook her head, ducking back behind one of the huge, garish stacking blocks scattered beneath the big top. A haunted house…? Ragatha or not, this particular adventure didn’t exactly sound like it would do wonders for her mental health. They weren’t all this stressful…were they?

She glanced back toward the way she came. Perhaps leaving her room was a lousy idea after all.

“No, no! What are you saying?” Pomni slapped her cheeks, “You can’t go back. If you keep isolating yourself, you’ll end up just like…”

Pomni looked over her shoulder. The damage done during Kaufmo’s rampage had already been repaired, but the barrel of monkeys she had been forced to cower behind that day was still in the exact same spot.

The memory sent a cold shiver down her spine.

“I’ll just, um…” Pomni sighed, plopping herself onto one of the circus’s childish set pieces. Fingers drumming idly upon the surface, her gaze wandered upward. “I’ll just wait here! Yeah! And meet everyone for dinner after the adventure is — Holy $#&% !”

Pomni slapped her hands over her mouth, jerking away from the trio of floating eyeballs lingering above her. Their cold, unflinching stares bore holes through her very soul. How long had those been there!?

Had Pomni held her breath waiting for the revolting specimens to blink, she would have asphyxiated by now. “C-C-Caine? Is that you…?”

🎪

“Zooble…” the ringmaster swirled his magician’s cane, “…you’re adventuring with Kinger today!”

Kinger emerged from his pillow fort. Smiling with his eyes, he looked at his partner-du-jour. Zooble shrugged.

“Gangle, your faithful companion will be…”

Gangle shivered. “Please don’t say Jax. Please don’t say Jax. Please don’t say—’

“…your best friend Jax, of course!”

“Like two peas in a pod!” Jax slapped Gangle twice on the back. Gangle’s mirthful mask shattered to pieces, and her subsequent whimper was as pitiful as usual.

Ragatha sighed, glancing sadly toward the dormitory hall. She should have known better than to get her hopes up. “I guess that means I’m the one stuck by myself this time…?”

“Of course not!” Caine replied, “Ragatha, your partner-in-crime for today’s heart-throbbing adventure is the one, the only…Pomni!”

Ragatha squinted. “But she isn’t even—”

Caine curled his finger inward, and a high-pitched yelp sounded in the distance. All turned to watch as a panicking Pomni was forced out of her hiding spot and dragged towards the rest of the group. Bubble, for his part, immediately got to work lapping up the blue-and-red skid marks left behind by her shoes.

Pomni's surprise trip stopped just as abruptly as it had started, and the inertia sent her careening toward the floor. Just before her face met the tile, however, a pair of soft hands caught her by the waist.

“Caine! What is wrong with you?” Ragatha scolded. She held Pomni against her chest like the world’s biggest, saddest teddy bear. “You could have hurt her!”

Jax pointed with a grin. “Careful, Dollface. She bites.”

“Oh, hush up.” Ragatha narrowed her eyes. Her gaze flicked down. Pomni stared back like a deer in headlights — and Ragatha could feel for herself how quickly the little jester’s heart was beating.

“You alright, Sweetheart?” Ragatha set Pomni back down, making sure the younger woman was on stable footing before fully letting go.

Pomni squeaked, turning away with her face buried in her hands. “Uh-huh! R-Right as rain!”

Ragatha hid her bemused smirk fairly well. What a dork.

“Pomni?!” Kinger flinched. It was anyone’s guess as to where his mind had been during the entire previous exchange. “What in the world?! I…I thought you abstracted!”

Gangle shook her head. “That was Kaufmo.”

“…Oh. Right.”

Jax slipped his hands into his pockets. He slid toward Pomni, showing off his golden teeth like a hungry shark ready to feed. “Hey, what’s the big idea? After your little tantrum yesterday, we thought you wouldn’t care if we all got run over by a train. Isn’t that what you said?”

“I, uh…” Pomni shrank away. “N-No! Well, yes, but…but I didn’t mean—”

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, Jax?” Ragatha placed her hands on Pomni’s shoulders. “Ignore him, Pomni. It’s a new day — we’re glad you’re here.”

The look on Pomni’s face was hopelessly awkward, but Ragatha didn’t mind — it still looked better than the jester’s usual pout.

Zooble groaned. “Okay, we get it! The resident wet kitten dragged herself out of her room to show her face again. Whoop-dee-#$%&ing-do. Can we get this adventure over with already!?”

“That’s the spirit! Sort of!” Caine rested his arm on the hypotenuse of Zooble’s head, peering expectantly at the rest of the group. “Any last burning questions before the fantastic funtivities commence?”

“…Stop touching me.” Zooble growled.

“That’s not a question!”

Kinger shook his head. “Did you learn nothing from your time inside the Gloink Queen?” He stepped between them and Caine. “Repeat after me, Zooble. ‘What is stop touching me?’”

“So close, yet so far away!” Caine leapt high into the air. “Well then, if there’s nothing more to discuss…”

“Wait a minute!” Pomni’s hand shot into the air. “I never agreed to—”

Caine snapped his fingers, and the group disappeared in a flash.

---

@sunification was kind enough to illustrate a scene from this chapter! You can find it here. Don't forget to check out their other art, as well!

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter]

#pomni x ragatha #pomnitha #pomni #tdac pomni #pomniposting #tadc ragatha #the amazing digital circus ragatha #ragapom #digital yuri #jesterdoll #buttonblossom #ragatha x pomni #tadc fanfiction #lesbian #sapphic #tadc ship #tadc sunshine

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comradekatara · 5 months

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hello, I’ve been thinking about Sokka in the finale and was wondering about your take I suppose? Or perhaps I just need to express this.

Sokka being a tactician rather than a warrior is a wonderful way to end his arc. Trusting two women who are, objectively, stronger in combat, while also being a guide & leader wow great love it.

And it’s great how he protects Toph. But I also think about how at the beginning Sokka is primed to die for Katara, and at the end he’s in the same self-sacrificial position. I don’t think this is bad writing but it kinda sucks for him lmao. His most triumphant moment is still one where it’s his job to die first.

It’s also interesting how this mirrors Zuko, who also self-sacrifices as a part of the completion of his arc. The way they’re both so willing to die is part of what makes Zukka compelling to me. But also! I wonder if Sokka would be jealous of Zuko being able to almost die for Katara.

I don’t think Sokka would think of it that way, but I can imagine his self-hate for almost letting Toph die, and then look! He wasn’t even there to die for Katara! Someone else had to do it! And maybe Zuko is a fine option if it’s not Sokka, but I don’t think its would be easy for Sokka to accept.

I don’t think he would know why he was angry, either. He’d just be mixed up with frustration and helplessness and probably concern for Zuko, too, and irritation at how stupid it was for Zuko to challenge Azula to an Agni Kai. God I hope they don’t break up over it.

okay, wow. a lot of interesting points here. i'm gonna try to respond to them in order (and number each paragraph so you can follow each point better).

1 while i would of course say that suki and toph both have unique strengths as fighters, i wouldn't discount sokka's skill either. yes, he is first and foremost a tactician who uses strategic maneuvering to win battles, and learning to prioritize his brains over his brawn is a huge facet of his arc, but crucially, he learns this first from suki, whose technique is all about strategic maneuvering against stronger opponents, and toph's fighting style is also about finding creative uses for her earthbending, instead of relying on feats of strength like the other earthbenders we see throughout the series. i would say that in this sense, toph, sokka, and suki are all quite evenly matched. they each have skills the other does not (arguably toph's skills are the most impressive, but sokka's accuracy with a boomerang and suki's little flippity flips – i.e., her abs of steel – in "the boiling rock" deserve acknowledgment).

of course, it's valuable that sokka trusts toph and suki entirely, and not solely because it reflects his implicit respect for girls as warriors (because like, we covered that at the very beginning of the series), but because it means he can overcome his control freak tendencies to delegate and trust others to be competent and succeed, which also means trusting that if they fail or choose to sacrifice themselves, it's not directly his fault (something he learns in "the boiling rock"). and of course toph and suki are probably the two people (who aren't directly related to him) he trusts, loves, and admires the most, which is what makes their team-up as a trio in the finale so lovely.

2 i actually think there's something really beautiful and poignant about the circularity of sokka's arc. as you say, it's a near-identical situation. sokka is faced down by fire nation soldiers, the only person in a position to fight back, while responsible for the safety and life of his little sister, and even though he puts up a valiant effort, he still must be saved by a third party who swoops in at the very last moment to save him before he bites it. in "the avatar returns," sokka's choice to die a martyr (in his mind) will finally fulfill his existential goal of protecting katara (which, again, in his mind, means doing for her what kya did), whereas now his existential goal is ending the war. either way, he is dying for his cause. the thing is, when aang returns to fight zuko, suddenly a new cause motivates sokka: to help the avatar. but now that the war is over, sokka's goals become less concrete. he must suddenly live past the end of his myth, which as we all know, is a perilous thing.

and as i've talked about before, i think this would motivate him to try and do everything he possibly can, because he no longer has one singular defined path, so to prove that he is worthy of existence he must now exercise control over everyone. as much as he trusts toph and suki and katara and aang and zuko (to an extent), i think his control freak tendencies would nonetheless be exacerbated by the end of the war, because instead of just imposing control on their little group to make sure they stay on schedule etc. etc., he now has the opportunity to impose control over the entire world. postwar sokka is kind of a nightmare i'm afraid.

3 i think it's important to remember that sokka doesn't really get angry, he gets guilty. unlike katara, zuko, or even aang, sokka only really gets angry if he thinks someone is incompetent and/or evil. but mostly, when he internalizes his emotions, he doesn't lash out with rage, he points that anger inwards, feels as if he is the one at fault, even if the situation was not remotely in his control. i don't think sokka would be remotely mad at zuko for what he did. he might think zuko was stupid for what he did ("couldn't katara have just run out of the way?"), but he'd also be infinitely grateful. i think sokka would be furious at zuko had the reverse happened and katara been injured in any way – oh, then he would tear zuko to pieces. but zuko risking his life for katara (although i think in zuko's mind he expected he'd be fine and that he could just redirect the lightning in midair, but he'd never admit that to anyone ever, so.) would only make sokka feel guilty that someone else had to perform his duty.

i think a big problem for sokka after the war would be that now that he has all these different paths to follow, he cannot be in every location at once (being a man means knowing where you're needed the most, but what if you're needed everywhere??? what then???), and he cannot know every single piece of information implicitly. the fact that he had to be at the airship fleet meant that he had to trust that zuko and katara would be successful in their mission. and he clearly does trust them, but i imagine there's also a part of him wracked with fear over their fates the entire time that they're split up, especially because if katara isn't okay, that means that he failed and he wasn't even there. so yeah, i think he'd feel a mix of gratitude and guilt that zuko performed his big brother duties in sokka's place. but i don't think he'd be angry at zuko.

4 sokka's self-hate for almost letting toph die is so real though. yeah "the boiling rock" teaches him to let himself rely on others and not take every single failure so personally, and suki is especially significant in that regard for how she represents someone who is sokka's peer who can rescue him but also be rescued by him. and all that, thematically speaking, is very important and lovely. but he still hates himself for not doing more. which is of course crazy, because he literally used a boomerang and threw his sword with only one working arm and a broken leg while basically hanging off a falling ledge in the sky to kill two men, but sokka is crazy, so there's no way he's satisfied upon being told that he did all he can do. his limits are his failures. and if he can't even protect his best friend, then what is he good for?

i actually think that if toph hadn't been there to ground him, he would have been less concerned with staying alive, that he only held on for so long because he wanted to keep toph alive. when sokka tells toph that "it looks like this is the end," toph, understandably, starts to cry, but sokka only really seems sad at the idea that toph is about to die. he's not crying, why would he be? this is probably how he's always imagined his own death in his wildest fantasies (yes, if katara fantasizes about revenge, sokka fantasizes about dying, you know it's true). if sokka is crucial to helping toph recognize and accept her own vulnerability, toph helps sokka stay grounded to his humanity (and obviously aang and others perform these function for both parties as well, but sokka and toph's friendship is a really beautiful, special thing). and that means that sokka is excited to be saved by suki specifically because it means that she also saved toph. but there must also be a part of sokka after the war that's thinking "in the end, zuko saved katara, suki saved toph, some giant spirit creature saved aang........ what am i even good for?" because if there's one thing sokka's brain loves to do, it's reinforce his own worthlessness.

5 "god i hope they don't break up over it" was pretty funny to me, because i honestly think that if they ever get together (and jury's still out for me on that tbh) it would take a good decade. but also i recognize that the way i "ship zukka" is different from how everyone else feels about/imagines them, so that's not really relevant here.

#would it surprise you that i do in fact think about this all the time #you guys rly love enabling me huh #asks #dejaentends #put it under the cut even though i have way longer posts i didn't add readmores to. im unpredictable im crazy idk #sokka #toph #suki #zuko #katara #katara&sokka #sokka&toph #sokkaxsuki #sokkaxzuko #(kinda)#analysis #GODDDDD..... i love.........psychoanalyzing sokka...... peeling the onion....... he has LAYERS DONKEY!!!!!

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trulycertain · 7 months

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i'll be your mirror

In which Astarion receives a gift of a portrait. Developing Tav/Astarion. 2k words.

Astarion forgets that little conversation entirely - he's wondered what he looks like now so many times in two centuries that one more occasion, albeit one where he was rather less solitary in his vanity, hardly stands out.

He forgets it until he ducks out of his tent into the morning light, and... Interesting. There's a sheet of paper tucked under his jar of - ugh - slightly congealed blood. He can't help the dread rising at the back of his throat. Some note left to toy with him? (He can almost see it: that hideously neat, tight little handwriting. I know where you are, boy. He focuses on the sun's warmth on his skin, and takes a breath he doesn't need. No. It'll at least be a damn sight harder for the bastard now.)

Shaking off his paralysis, he unfolds it, and finds... a portrait. Hm. He squints, smoothing it and trying not to smear charcoal all over his fingers.

A handsome fellow, certainly - straddling the line between that and pretty. High cheekbones and long eyelashes and an elegant, straight nose. A bit of a wry glint in the eyes. (Impressive, capturing that. For all his talents with a dagger or a body, he's never been that kind of artist.) Crow's-feet around them, too, and lines around the mouth; a man, not a boy. Delicately pointed ears. A head of soft, pale curls.

The realisation drops onto him something like a very large rock.

...Ah.

He touches his own hair, absentmindedly, feeling a texture he'd know like the back of his hand but hasn't seen from that angle in two hundred years. If his hand is shaking a little, no-one else has to know.

He stares at cheekbones he must have traced over a thousand times, trying to rebuild a faint, shadowed picture that was fading in his head by the year. At the bow of this strange, handsome elf's lips. He maps it on his own face, finger tracing over another familiar shape that he could never quite envision. Besides, he'd been preoccupied with the newer, unwelcome shape of fangs.

But it doesn't feel wrong. The picture in his head was more of a featureless shadow with fantastic hair than anything else, but this… this has the ring of familiarity. They've even bothered to capture his moles; he puts a fingertip to his cheek, where one had been forgotten, not raised enough for him to know.

Someone who sees him often, then, who knows his face. Someone -

I'll be your mirror. Those hazel eyes tracing carefully over his face, when a night or two ago she caught him craning for a reflection that would never come.

Lora.

He's seen her scribbling away enough times; he just assumed she kept a journal. He saw the odd drawing - plants, mainly, things she'd bring to the tree-hugging bores at the Grove and ask about, or discuss with Gale...

Like she's doing now. They're off in the woods with Gale trying to teach her some spell, and the worst thing? That's not even a euphemism. Even now, they're probably deep in debate. Ugh.

But it does mean that the little journal she keeps is sitting on a log, temptingly unoccupied. He puts the drawing carefully aside, and then it's a matter of moments to wander over and close his hands on the book. If she didn't want anyone to look, she shouldn't have put it with the communal supplies.

Making himself at home on the log, he flicks through it. Gods, she hasn't even used a cipher. To-do lists that seem to involve far too much saving helpless idiots, half-scribbled song lyrics and roughly dotted notes - even he can't somehow make those his business, and swiftly moves on - and… there.

He recognises those roughly-drawn lines, the way they soften out to the curves of the cheeks. Gale, sketching out some mnemonic absentmindedly with three fingers, a faint swirl of magic drawn in a couple of lines. Karlach, beaming and dimpling quite becomingly. Wyll, practising his forms with a rapier. Shadowheart, deep in meditation while Lae'zel scowls at her.

And on the other page… Ah. Hello.

If he'd wondered, truly wondered, whether the other portrait was him, this one confirms it: he's caught in laughter, a wineglass in hand, and... He stares at his own fangs. She hasn't shied away from drawing them, but there's been more attention paid in rendering the firelight on his hair, the crinkling around his eyes. Neither fear nor fetishism. He... honestly, he has no idea what to do with that. Another, in profile view, and something must have rather pissed him off, from the look of it. Little notes cluster around the drawings on what herbs she needs to find, on infernal iron for Karlach, on drow poison for Astarion.

He turns the page, and is greeted by a drawing of the day they were caught in an impressive downpour and took shelter in a cave. Well, they were all caught, but the subject is him, specifically. He looks at half-flattened, sopping hair and his truly unimpressed expression. Is that what it looks like when he glares? He catches his brows pulling tight, in mimicry. This should be mocking, but it feels more… It's not as unflattering as it should be. Almost fond, which is odd, considering the sheer amount of time he and Lora spend arguing.

Perhaps… hmm. One doesn't draw a face that much without being a little enamoured of it, surely. That's probably all she wants, the look of him. She still grimaces at his goblin jokes, still stops to help every fool going and sighs when he complains. He'd thought perhaps they'd had a little breakthrough when she let him bite her, when she speculated on the taste of their companions - she has a streak of dark humour that he rather enjoys, when she's not too uptight to let it out. But then she put them all at risk and wasted time they didn't have to rescue that idiot bard from the goblins, and when Astarion glared at her, she glared back even more fiercely. Sometimes a glimpse of the sunrise is just a lantern, or some other foolish metaphor she'd use. So, seeing as his sparkling personality certainly isn't the draw here, it must be his looks. He can work with that. Hardly the first time. He thought he'd have to try his luck again with the terrifying gith or gods forbid, the wizard, but perhaps all isn't lost with the leader of their merry little band.

There's another drawing that makes him pause: him caught examining his own hand, in the sun. The look on his face - he's smiling, just slightly. He looks… happy. He doesn't look that soft, does he? The kind of soft that he can't afford to be. It's dangerous, it's stupidly complacent, it's… Annoyed, wary embarrassment prickles up his spine - has he been that obvious? When did she see that? How did he not catch her staring?

He flips back to the more general (safer) drawings. "Karlach," he says to his erstwhile red companion, who's currently keeping watch.

"Yeah?" She heads over to his makeshift seat, axe still slung over her shoulder. Her eyebrows raise. "Huh, those are good. Look at me!" She reaches out a finger - Astarion draws back the book protectively, and she remembers, face falling. The sight shouldn't bother him as much as it does.

"Yes, yes, but are they… accurate?"

She sits next to him, axe resting by her knee, and her eyes widen. She squints at him. "Oh shit, mirrors. How much do you remember?"

He shrugs, and if she looks any more pitying he may have to bite her, so he focuses on the book instead.

"These are… yeah, these are definitely you. Ha, look, this one's got the way your hair goes all curly round your ears! Aww, look at your little fangs!"

"'Little'?" he says, offended. He peers at her.

She grins at him, pointedly, with a mouth full of many.

"Hmph. Not all of us can be a hellspawn."

She's nudging the page carefully with a nail before he can protest. Her eyes widen. "Wow, these are really sweet…" Pausing, she looks up at him. "Astarion, where did you get this?"

"It was… communal," he tries, vaguely.

"Please tell me this isn't Lora's."

"She checks it around us all the time! She showed me her list of herbs just yesterday! It's not as if I'm reading her diary." But there's a reason he didn't just ask. They both know it.

"Astarion, sometimes you can be a real shit."

He knows. He stares at the drawings and reassembles his usual lack of care. "Hm? Sorry, I was busy being distracted by how pretty I am."

"I swear -"

He hears the steady footsteps and a creak of leather even under Karlach's words - he's always been a hard man to sneak up on - and looking up, resigns himself.

Lora says, "How come no-one invited me to this party?" Her footsteps stop abruptly when she sees what he's holding. There's the faintest flicker in her eyes, and then she pastes on a resigned, tired sort of smile. "I guess this is what I get for giving you gifts."

That… itches. He's had far worse said to him - had knives under his ribs - so it's not as if it really hurts, but she so clearly means it. She's not trying to posture, or hurt him. Her disappointment simply is.

Karlach and Gale seem to be having some kind of mouthed conversation, with hand gestures. Astarion distinctly catches the words Not getting involved on Gale's side. "Tell me if you need his arse kicking, mate," Karlach says, and stands, ushering Gale away with a hand on his elbow.

"I was looking for soup recipes?" he tries, not even aiming to be convincing.

"Sure." Lora takes her lyre from her back and leans it against the log, then sits to untie her boots. She doesn't look at him once. It's almost impressive.

It should be a relief: a break from her incessant brightness that felt too much like unwelcome sun, back in the pre-tadpole days. Finally not having to listen to how there are kind people, you'll see, now rescue that bunny from under a cart. Gods, somehow even her hair is wilting. It's pitiful. He'd be angry at the manipulation, but this seems too exhausted to be a manipulation. It's… real, he thinks.

Leaning on pity should work - and besides, it's the truth. "Can you blame me, after two hundred years? I just wanted to see if you had any more." He smooths a hand over the corner of the page. "I asked you what you saw when you looked at me. This is it, isn't it?"

She nods, and that's all. A silent bard - somehow almost as ominous as a loud crypt.

He takes one last look, drinking in the familiar unfamiliarity of his face, and then carefully puts the book onto her lap. "Here. I think this is yours." His voice is quieting before he can help it - too damn soft, he thinks again, though perhaps softness will get her to let down her defences where simple seduction won't. "I can promise you, there won't be any repeats of my little endeavour today." Her eyes slowly raise to his, and he says, "It answered my question." He clears his throat, crosses one leg over another, and tries to look elegant rather than self-pitying. "You've… given me back my face. It was always just one more thing Cazador stole from me. Thank you." The words are far, far too real. He didn't quite mean to say it that bluntly.

She blinks, seeming taken aback by his little display - and then she nods. The beginnings of forgiveness are in her slackening shoulders, the way she takes the briefest glimpse at him before it's gone again. It won't be a problem, travelling together today, even if she'll be quietly licking her wounds. Good.

The broken mirror is still lying in his tent when he returns. He sighs at the sight of it. And then he shifts old wine bottles and blood jars out of the way. It doesn't need much room, a small charcoal drawing - it certainly doesn't need him to clear a whole corner of his tent. Even so, he does, propping it up and looking at the life in his own eyes for longer than he'd want to admit.

#astarion x tav #Astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #That Damn Mirror Scene #lora mctavish #Chaotic good punk slight disaster at love bard #My fic #This might become part of something bigger eventually #Still working it out

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