#they both know its an answer not a question

[nabitsun]

౨ৎ SPINE BREAKER

fem! reader x nerdy! choso

᭝ synopsis : who knew you just needed good dick from a nerdy boy to lose that attitude.

᭝ tags: smut & little angst? uni (both in their 20s), reader is kind of a minx but you'll pick that up.. (well, all reader's friends are) porn w plot would've guessed, oral sex (f), pussyjob, unprotected (pull out game 10/10), uhh sweet choso duh <3

᭝ wc: 11.5k ...

᭝ notes: t'was supposed to be a one-scene typa oneshot but got carried away - blame it on nerdy! choso. (i remixed that shit 4 times)

"shoko.."

"what is it?"

"no need to put these under my nose i've told you, i'm not coming." you slap her hand away gently, she's holding two entries for a random party in town.

"oh but you will." she smiles.

you know you will, you always do.

"c'mon i have two entries? i can't waste them."

"exactly, ask yuki to come with you."

"she also bought two entries, she's already coming with someone else."

you give her a quizzical look,

"i don't know any better, she didn't say."

"she's probably inviting aoi over again, God.. another reason to not come.." you shake your head at the sole thought of the man.

"who's that?" she says, switching up outfits in front of her as she ponders in front of the mirror.

"y'know that meathead eccentric guy who's like, super fan of her,"

"ohh, that one.." she hums in thoughts "mh, i doubt it though. the last time he was here, he didn't leave with that same smug face. if he keeps getting into trouble the way he does, I doubt she'll invite him back."

she's referring to the last time yuki invited aoi to one of these parties, not to sugarcoat anything but he definitely learnt the hard way to not be an arrogant show off.

"i hope not." you mumble

"stop trying to find excuses. you're coming with me, we're gonna have a good time, end of story."

you let out a crude laugh, "let me rephrase. you're gonna have a good time, and i am gonna get bored out of my mind." you can see her roll her eyes, "i don't even see the point of going there."

"because you don't try to have fun."

"if trying to have fun implies rubbing myself on some smelly drunk strangers with shitty ass songs in the background, then yeah i'd rather not try."

"you're no fun, it's not that bad."

"it's not that bad until you reach your fifth drink" you quick back as you cross your arms over your chest as if to withdraw from this endless battle that you know, will defeat you.

"aren't you being a little dramatic, now?" shoko barely looks at you with raised eyebrows. she knows as well as you do that beyond her tolerance limit she's no longer controllable, which is why you've spent many nights taking her home and trying - as best you could - to bring her back safe and sound. she won't admit it though.

you dismiss the (probably) rhetoric question, "since yuki's coming, why do you want me to go so bad?"

"what a silly question." she sighs as if she'd heard a child say the most gullible nonsense, "i like having you around, that is all."

"something is tellin' me you don't wanna end up third wheeling," you sing song.

"shut up.. you're coming anyway." she avoids your stare and lets out a heavy sigh, "you like the blue one?" she twirls the dress on its hanger around and turn over to face you, she tilts her head on the side as if to weight your future answer.

"i like the purple better."

"that's what i was thinking.."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

being confided in the car with a loquacious shoko didn't help the growing headache you felt in the back of your skull. it had been a tough week.

your exams were approximately in a week and just thinking about it actively made your head hurt even more, and your throat tightened with culpability.

"hey, don't die on me now." shoko glares at you from the side as she's driving to the house. you feel her checking you multiple times.

"i'm fine," you sigh, rubbing your temples in an attempt to soothes the growing pain – that eventually worsened when shoko suddenly hit the brakes, a bit too abruptly to your liking, at a stop sign.

"girl, you either need a good night sleep or some good dick." she clicks her tongue, "look at you," she emphasizes by shaking her head as if the sole sight was too much for her.

"focus on not getting us crashed already."

"i'm serious though, you want some water?"

"no–no, i told you i'm okay." you look ahead of you, resting your head against the headrest for some support ; flashes of cars and traffic lights interacting in the night, "you drive like shit though."

"wow. okay, you'll show me how much of a good driver you are when you'll drive me back tonight, yeah?" she chuckles, taking a second turn on a new avenue.

"having you drunk in the back of the car is a constant fight of trying to not make you throw everything up, of course i have to drive nicely."

you see your friend nodding as she taps her fingers on the steering wheel, apparently at loss of words.

"mhm, thanks?"

you relax back with a content smile, "i prefer that,"

the house is not so far from your respective apartments, also not far from your university, which is around a fifteen minutes drive.

you can't really be mad at shoko for dragging you to those places ; the kind of places where she often ends up with a grain of lucidity to keep her half upright, while all the rest of her cognition makes her look like a psychotic out of an asylum. and even though you're practically always the one driving her back to her place, it doesn't exclude the fact that you need this sometimes.

despite your complaints of not wanting to go with her – for various reasons that you listed prior, but also because of your upcoming exams that are sucking the energy directly out of you – you still kind of look forward to the evening, if you're being honest. it gives you the opportunity to sit back and suspend the course of time for an evening, as ephemeral as it is.

the car stops at a red light as you think back to shoko's words, back in her room.

"yuki still didn't tell you about her special guest ?" you mindlessly ask as you fix your makeup by looking in the mirror of the sunshade, curling your eyelashes with the edge of your index to fix them.

"nope, i might have an idea though.." she pauses, you don't say anything as you wait for her to continue, "you know that guy she hangs out with sometimes? she's not like always with him but i don't think she'd invite anyone else, knowing her.."

"what guy?" you frown, you close the sunshade to look at her.

"uhh, black hair, pale skin, really quiet too. one of those snobs who behaves like termites by staying in their hole, you know. i don't even think i've ever talked to him, or seen him talk for that matter." she squints her eyes to reminisce old memories but the sudden shift of color on the traffic lights makes her focus back on the road.

"like what? a sorta depressed emo boy or something?" you scoff.

she laughs, out of mockery for your credulity it seems, "pretty close. but he's really.. the nerdy type y'know? the type to sit there and not say a word unless spoken to about some stupid nerdy shit, i guess."

"as long as he doesn't talk about fuckin' uni or something like that tonight, i'm good." you sigh at the thought as you close your eyes, clearly ignoring the silent warnings in her eyes.

"oh girl, you're such a fucking minx."

you ignore her offense when you continue your interview, "why would she invite him though? i mean why would he even come?"

"why did you?"

you keep silent.

"exactly," she states, "now keep your curiosity to yourself, you're about to find out."

after a few bends leading to the far end of town, you then remark the students crowding the lawn, stepping everywhere as some of them walk to the entry of the house.

no wonder you had to pay entries to get to some crackhead student party – you understood when you saw the size of the house and how many people there was. you silently hoped there was no one around as they would probably spend one hell of a night.

"not too far, i don't wanna have to carry you fifty meters tonight." you warn as shoko tries to find a good parking spot.

she sends you a hard glare and mumbles something inaudible that almost sounds like an insult. she seems to comply anyways as she parks not to far from the entry.

you were met with fresh air as you stepped outside the car, the extremities of your skin growing cold as well as your bare legs barely warming up with the strides you were taking. it was only eight in the afternoon and yet, you already saw wobbly people trying to walk their way out of the house. the two of you approach the path leading to the house, hearing the music as it gradually intensifies.

"there," shoko throws the car keys to you as you catch them hardly in your hands, "in case i lose them during the evening, you're in charge." you don't say anything, you'll have to drive back home anyways.

the calm atmosphere of an april evening was replaced without much transition as you walked past the open doors. the lights of the traffic lights now seemed far less stimulating in comparison to the sight in front of you. and paradoxically, your headache had disappeared, making you guess it was indeed, shoko's driving.

shoko turned around and took your hand to lead you through the numerous ponds of people hovering the place, talking, singing, dancing or even making out grossly. your steps grew heavier – whether from the combined heat of everyone weighing down on you or the vibrations of the boosted bass – it felt as if you were clearly reaching the pit of hell, both physically and symbolically.

and you could feel that with every steps forward, requiring the unsolicited touch of people brushing past you. the odors coming on play for less than a few seconds to merge with your own scent, just to disappear as soon as it entered past your nostrils. the lights changing from blue to purple to pink or even red, reflecting on the few skin shoko was showing with her slip dress as she was leading the way.

to say you were getting overstimulated was understandable. it was like getting thrown into a pit with only hungry lions to face; and with that dramatic metaphor you noted that the first lion you'd have to fight tonight, was the woman in front of you.

once you both reached what seemed to be the main saloon – though it was hard to decipher with the ton of people and the lack of furniture, beside some occupied couches. you didn't even know who was hosting the party to be fair, it seemed to change every other week like some sort of competition of who's gonna have the privilege to clean the big mess next morning – although you'd guess they probably have someone to do just that.

you were so focused on the environment you didn't even see the golden shadow passing by when a pair of fingers snapped you out of your illusion.

"you look like it's your first time at the zoo."

by the tone and voice you wouldn't even need to turn around. yuki looks at you with crossed arms in a sleeveless black turtleneck and flare jeans with a hint of a smile – out of friendliness or amusement, you didn't know.

"definitely feels like it," you smile back as you reach out to embrace her, which she welcomes.

"i see, shoko brought you here just to be her cab home then hm?" she tilts her head ignoring the way shoko snapped her head in her direction.

"hey don't say that! i wanted her company t–"

she gets interrupted by a loud noise, not seemingly coming from the music but by someone who just seemed to crash down on a wooden coffee table – one of the furniture you had such a hard time to see apparently because some people decided to stand on it. both girls in front of you roll their eyes almost in sync.

"well, looks like the alcohol's kicking in. you're coming with me?" yuki addresses to shoko and you.

"yeah i need to get something, i don't like how aware i am right now." shoko shakes her head in disapproval of the events.

the three of you approach the kitchen, where all the drinks stand upright and ready to use like weapons of war laid out on a table.

you don't venture into drink design, preferring to leave it to shoko or yuki, who apparently know best what they're doing since they're arguing over whether pineapple or cranberry would be more suitable to mix with vodka. once the ingredients are mixed, you all take a sip to mark the start of your evening.

"ew what the–" your body shudder lightly from disgust as you lower your hand over the counter, "tastes like piss seriously.." you whine and look at the wrongdoer.

"told you pineapple was a bad choice." yuki restates, but she's ignored by shoko, who takes the cup from your hand and pours the contents into her own cup.

"fuckin' alcoholic.." you breathe out in amusement.

"i paid for these, might as well make it worth my while." shoko rejoins and it makes you think..

"hey yuki, talking about entries, where's your guest?"

she takes another sip before answering through the music as she leans over, "he told me he wanted to use the bathroom, he went upstairs i think but.." she looks around, ".. i don't see him around, maybe he's stuck in there or something." she shrugs as if it were the most banal piece of information.

you naturally frown at the answer and at her lack of interest as to where her friend might be, so does shoko as she flicks yuki's forehead – earning an annoyed grunt from her victim.

"you can talk about me, you don't even care about your friend."

"he's a dude girl, if he's staying up there there's a reason. i'm sure he's fine," she shrugs once again with round eyes devoid of any remorse.

as they continue to argue mindlessly you sneak your hand on the counter, gliding it across the surface to grab discreetly yuki's cup, probably much tastier with cranberry, and retrieve it back to walk away and leave them to their incessant vindictive promises.

you're sure when you come back they'll still be on their feet – at least you'd like to put this much faith in them – as you rush through agglutinated people to get past the stairs. you don't really know why you're going, maybe you could say he picked your interest ; the thought of a guy like him in the middle of the evening just reminds you of a lamb around a horde of wolves.

you take a couple more sips from your cup and climb the stairs, squeezing past a heated couple making out in the middle of it. you follow down the corridor to find a multitude of doors, and one at the end of it that would be the perfect prototype of the bathroom at the end of a corridor. once you reach it you lean in to rest your ear against the door, trying to gauge potential noises, but nothing.

you smooth your denim skirt down and readjust your purse on your shoulder. you knock once, then twice – over the music you're practically not able to hear your own knocking – until your press your fingers down on the locker slowly, peeking through the door but you're only welcomed with pitch black.

maybe he just got lost among people, or maybe he was one of the ones you saw vomiting their guts out outside – which is less probable, but not impossible. you don't really feel like acting like a detective and exploring every nook and cranny, for fear of also finding yourself in front of people fucking in one of the rooms, so you prefer to turn back on your heels, giving up on the mission you thought would spark up your evening a little bit.

but it doesn't really go as planned actually. as you walk back towards the stairs, you notice a door open ajar, as if to let in a trickle of air, so you don't pay it much attention, but it's only when you start to look away that you see the previously motionless shadow, move.

it's quite honest to think that it's the first effects of the alcohol that are starting to take effect, a blurry vision in addition to poor lighting – results are not promising. you pause in your steps once more, tightening your fingers around your cup as you tilt your head so that you can look through the doorway without acting too much like a voyeur.

that's when you see him. rather tall figure standing up with the major help of big boots, black trousers with a black shirt – or maybe the colors are tainted by the darkness of the room, barely lit up by an amber light. and you do notice the signature buns with a few strands falling on his forehead.

his movements are so ever delicate you're having a hard time to decipher if the stability of your vision is playing tricks on you, or if it's really the slowness of his movements. one of his hands reaches over the shelf, he grabs a book and opens it. so careless.

"didn't know you were also a creep." you open the door without warning, with your cup in a hand and it makes you think that you probably look like some drunken mess barging in a room.

he drops the book on the ground.

"fuck!" his panicked eyes dart to you, pretty purplish eyes, "i'm sorry— shit. i didn't mean to pry." he picks up the book from the ground, bending his knees to grab it softly.

"if anything, i was the one prying." you comment, entering the room. and.. oh? what a sight you're welcomed with. it's a crime to not have seen this man on campus before – or maybe that's his crime to decide to stay inside his room with such a pretty face. his eyebrows are still brought near the center of his forehead, a faint look of worry that doesn't seem to disperse as the seconds pass.

it's also shoko's crime not to have mentioned the few silver jewels adorning his lips and eyebrows, or the charcoal mark layered upon his nose and spread horizontally along the length, covering both cheeks. and maybe there's another crime to add to your list when his tired eyes look away from you, trying to find some sort of distraction, anywhere but on you.

"i wasn't doing anything, i swear." his voice is coated with the sweetest tones though it's deeper than you'd expected – such a contrast with his face.

"careful, there's no better way to appear guilty than with this sentence." and you swear you can see a light frown on his face. you take a couple more steps towards him, he stands still, the book still in his hand as it's closed and tightly wrapped around his fingers.

you reach for the book lazily, and you take good care to not try any brusque movements. it's like you're walking on thin ice and you just start to realize how quieter it got in the room, with the buzzing of music barely heard and a few people chanting way too far.

he doesn't even try to fight it, the book slips past his fingers easily as you grab it, "The Picture Of Dorian Gray". classic. he looks down at you silently, a bit too long as if he's realized something.

"are you planning to come down?"

he shoves his hands in his pockets, shifting part of his weight on one foot in a slightly awkward manner, "i don't really feel like it."

"why is that?" you put the book right in the empty space, where you guess it previously was, squished between the other books.

"i don't really enjoy.. this." he nods to the door.

"what do you enjoy then?"

he runs his tongue over his piercing, wetting his lips and smothering the silver ring with it in the process as he ponders, then locks eyes with you finally.

"not parties at least."

"mhm, i would've guessed."

the room was strangely not that big compared to the house, a very sober room that must have been for guests, at least no personal decorations were visible. you approached the window to watch the racket outside and you found yourself glad to be upstairs at the sight.

"yuki was getting worried though." you know it's not true, but you're trying your best, you really are.

he turns around to face you, still not moving an inch from his initial position though, "oh so you're one of yuki's friend? the one she said would come?"

"it depends on whether she talked about a little pain in the ass or a cheeky cynic."

"she used the term.. « bothersome minx », if i recall."

you chuckle softly and put your cup down on the windowsill, gliding it on the side as you turn to look at him. he eyes you up and down, tapping his fingers along his thighs and you're not sure if you are in good shape due to the previous consumption or if he's just being the analytical man he's known to be.

"what's your name?"

"choso."

"choso.." you introduce yourself as well, he repeats your name just the same, "wanna sneak out?"

"what do you mean? like right now?"

"yeah, why not? i mean you can stay in that room as long as you want but i doubt you'll have much fun." he turns his head to glance at the door lazily, gauging the proposal.

"what are we gonna do?"

"i don't know, we'll see." you shrug with a smile and you're not sure if playing the russian roulette with him is gonna get you anywhere but you're too interested to play it safe.

"hm, i want to be back for yuki though, she's gonna need a ride home."

"you will." you say simply, but choso raises his eyebrows, waiting for more based arguments rather than a simple affirmation. so you continue,

"we can just take the car, drive for a couple of minutes and you'll be back here before you even notice."

there's a few seconds of silence where you both look at each other, expecting an answer. he sighs, lowering his head and you think he's about to decline your invitation but..

"alright, but just for some time."

you can't help but grin widely, you eagerly dig in your purse for the car keys shoko gave you and take quick steps towards the exit. as you wait for him on the doorstep you see him take a few strides, but towards the windowsill where you previously were standing. he grabs the drink you left dismissively, his jacket on the bed, and throws your empty cup in the bin just in the corner of the room as he walks back towards you.

he smiles gently at you and closes the door behind the two of you.

you practically had to fight your way through the crowd waiting for you downstairs. you thought the hardest part would be getting through to the front door, but once outside you found yourself in a quandary as you had to tiptoe to avoid stepping on any garbage, sticky liquids or dead drunks on the lawn.

choso asked you if you were able to take the wheel, you told him yes, of course – you'd only had one drink that had barely shaken you. he insisted on driving anyway.

the place where you had him taken was one of the only ones not too far away that was still open at this hour; and especially one that didn't look like a crowded bar.

a small café-restaurant run by a woman who was far too old to still be on her feet serving until late at night – but she always did it with too much care that you always resigned yourself to going there, even if the prices were higher.

the car ride had been remotely silent, with only a few instructions as to the routes to take and choso asking you if you wanted to put the heat on.

you took your seats on the colorful banquettes, waiting for the woman to come and take your order. the contrast was quite ironic, seeing you and choso dressed for some fancy evening in a place that was very reminiscent of that kind of little retro restaurant in the 50s, with the famous jukebox playing ballads from Elvis Presley, and the endless greasy hot dogs displayed on the counter.

"didn't think you'd follow a stranger blindly,"

he rests his forearms on the table and bring his eyes back on you as they were occupied scanning the place, "you're no real stranger, you're yuki's friend after all."

"oh i'm sure you were the kinda kid to enter some random white van." you say, more to yourself though as you look at the menu briefly. he doesn't say anything in return, and you don't look up either to see if he's looking at you or not.

"tell me choso," his name is like the ring of a bell, his eyes widen just a little, "how come i've never seen you around? you're on campus right?"

"mhm, i guess," he opens his mouth as if to start a sentence but he soon renounces by closing it immediately, he reaches for his nape to massage it, "i guess i don't really hang out around campus."

"majoring in?"

"computer science."

you would have bet your entire fucking fortune on it. you let a smile slip through.

"um, you're friends with gojo satoru too, right?"

the question definitely surprises you, everyone knows who's satoru, and that's not to his advantage as he's more or so known for being one hell of a jerk. you nod and he takes a deep breath, one that speaks volumes.

"i know what he says about me, you know. i just don't want you to think i'm like that." he admits and the sight almost makes you frown, you don't know if it's pity or empathy but you shake the feeling away.

"what do you think he says about you?"

he pauses for a few seconds, he's quick to bring his hands around his ear piercing, fidgeting with them as he relaxes back against the banquette, he finally crosses his arms over his chest.

"they say things that aren't necessarily wrong but aren't totally true either."

when he says they, he's probably referring to shoko, or maybe suguru if you think about it, though he doesn't seem to care about people's business that much.

you'll blame choso's inability to communicate properly for his ambiguous answers and not because he's trying to pull a series of enigma right now.

"mhm, and don't you think i have a mind of my own?"

his eyes almost pop out of their sockets and he once again leans against the table, clearly not settled on how to sit still, "no–no i didn't mean to say that ! i'm sure you do," he says softly, yet still very much alarmed.

you almost regret your choice of words but he's so goddamn sweet it would be a shame not to tease him a little.

"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me." his fingers fidgets with the salt and pepper shaker in front him.

you know you're in no position to talk, you even feel embarrassed if you're being honest, as you were not just about an hour ago making fun of him in the car with shoko – that, he doesn't know.

the old woman comes back to take both your orders and it's as if the bubble you were both in had just burst, bringing you back to the café as the music gradually came back to your senses. choso orders a strawberry milkshake and you take a blueberry.

the way he talks is so sweet, it makes you physically wince, and let's not talk about the way he looks at the old woman like she was cotton candy to the eye. you think it's all an act he's about to drop when she leaves but, even when she returns behind the counter he returns his eyes on you with the same look ; heavy lids – that you don't know if they are the consequence of a long day or if they're always like that – with shades or purple circling them.

"you'll know that the only time I take satoru's opinion into account is when I have to make a choice for lunch. you're okay." you assure.

he nods slowly and you see his face soften at your reassuring words.

"i don't know why you hang out with them." he says and it's so faint you're not even sure if he mumbled to himself or if he actually talked to you.

you tilt your head on the side with a frown, "what do you mean?"

he takes some time to answer, to gather his words or because he's hesitant you don't really know.

"you were always so nice to me," but you're still puzzled so he continues, "back in high school, you weren't hanging out with this kind of people, y'know."

you don't even pay attention to the way he's not so subtly trying to bring your friends down, you readjust yourself in your seat, visibly confused.

"i don't.. i mean, we were in the same class?"

choso shrugs, not really phased to see you don't remember him at all, "you had a lot of friends. plus, i didn't have these two." he points his finger up to show his hair attached in two buns atop of his head as if it could be the sole reason of your memory lapse. silly.

"i like this look on you. you look nice with them." you say as you look at the hairstyle thoroughly. the praise seemed to have gotten to him because you can see a small smile on his lips as he looks around impatiently for the drinks to arrive – or maybe he just needed to lay his eyes somewhere else than on you.

the drinks arrive shortly after, not surprising due to the lack of customers as it's practically just the two of you there. you don't really say anything much, comfortable in the silence you're both in as you grab your order to taste them. you don't really want to continue the conversation about your friends right now, and choso seems to have dropped the idea of it too.

choso watches you as you lean in to wrap the straw around your lips, elbows on the table to support your body on top. he also watches the way the milkshake climbs up the straw to pour into your mouth, away from prying eyes.

"you want some?"

his blurred eyes meet yours.

"huh?"

you smirk, only because you're enjoying the look on his face and you want it to worsen. you straighten up properly, away from that damn straw and focus on choso, who grows a little embarrassed, somehow – you see it, he backs down a little just at the sight.

"i know what you want," you say, almost above a whisper, stirring the straw with painful slowness.

"you just gotta ask."

choso doesn't say anything. he doesn't really know what to say actually as he flicks his eyes between your eyes and your lips. he's panicked, that's one thing anyone could notice if only they had their attention on him.

"you want a taste, right?" you say with such a languid voice he has to look around to see if you're putting on a show for anyone around, in vain of any spectators. choso raises his eyebrows, devoid of any answers.

"my drink, you idiot."

such a fool, his pouding heart slows back down quietly into his chest and it shows by the prior rapid breaths that are replaced by long and painful sighs. and what a disguised curse to be around you. he doesn't even seem to notice the degrading name he got assigned, you're not even sure he's got to hear the short sentence correctly.

"um.. yeah, sure."

you glide the drink forward on the table until it reaches his fingers which firmly wrap around the glass – and if you were from the police you'd suspect it's to hide his shaking fingers. he puts his own lips where yours once were and begins to sip through the straw. he doesn't have to look up to see you watching intently, he can feel it.

"there you go, how is it?"

"s'good." he nods.

the aroma melts on his tongue, almost sugarcoating the strawberry he previously ingested and the sour taste of a little humiliation.

"i wonder what's going on in that little head of yours. you're so analytical with everything."

"you make me feel like I have to be."

a head tilt from you is all he needs to know he has to develop his thoughts.

"be aware of my surroundings."

your answer gets stuck in the back of your throat when you hear the buzzing of your phone in your purse, you dig it out : a call from shoko.

you excuse yourself and choso simply nods, you bring the phone to your ears and you soon regret the movement as dissonant noises come to deafen your drums – urging you to pull your phone away from your ear.

"h-hey!! where.." the sentence is cut by another voice, and maybe some screams, you don't really know. you squint your eyes as you try to decode the semblance of sentences thrown at you, you call shoko but she doesn't seem to be on the line although the call indicates two minutes past.

choso continues to sip on his milkshake and he looks just as confused as you are.

"where r'you–" you don't need to ask her if she's drunk or not, you can hear it through the slurring of her words. you don't answer her question though, you know it will cause more damage than anything to say you'd preferred to leave the party to go sip on some milkshake with a man you're supposed to despise more than anything.

after five minutes of negotiation, you finally find out what shoko wanted - simple curiosity as to where you were, but also a call for help with the disappearance of choso, who was supposedly trapped in the toilet, according to yuki. you promptly hang up and finish your milkshake in a one go.

"she's in trouble?" choso gauges your reaction and imitates you, putting away his own things as he puts his jacket on.

"she's about to be if we don't come pick her up now." you place you purse back on your shoulder as you draw enough of cash to cover the bill and tip, "c'mon, let's go."

choso wasn't so wrong in the end, since you both arrived in time to prevent a tragedy from happening, one more on the list that shoko may not remember - despite the scale of it. you and choso agreed to take back your possessions – in this case yuki and shoko, who seemed to be standing on their own two feet only by some celestial force.

no need to to depict the end of the night, it was always the same when you went out with shoko. though something – or rather someone – during evening had told you it wasn't going to be the same ; that your tranquility was long gone, that you had now committed, whether you'd like it or not apparently, to be a fucking babysitter.

and he was fast with it, he didn't wait a week or so, he didn't even try to make it natural. the day after the party, choso went straight to talk to you, and the boy didn't even care if you were with your group of friends, the same that vehemently talked shit behind his back.

he didn't even try to wipe that smile off of his face, nor to calm the rosy tint on his cheeks that left little room for other interpretations. he didn't even try to cover for you when he gave you change for the milkshake you'd paid for – and God he didn't seem to understand that if you'd paid him it didn't mean you particularly wanted to give him the impression he owed you anything in return.

he also didn't notice that you didn't appreciate his refund, that you would have preferred to send him off, but that under the pressure from satoru and shoko, who were only viciously agreeable to him, you had to accept his exchange with a big smile.

you really didn't know whether his behavior was of the order of undisputed innocence or whether it was a means of publicly humiliating you.

in any case, the incident didn't go away, not with satoru and shoko around the corner, who were both just explaining the situation to suguru in the middle of lunch in the refectory.

"she left yuki and i alone with a bunch of freaks," shoko declares through the clattering sounds of the cantine while pointing her fork on you as she explains the evening, once again.

"you didn't seem to mind when i pulled you away from one that you were trying to dissect open with a knife." you insist, once again.

you stir the fuming food and distribute it homogeneously over your plate to let it cool down, ignoring shoko's words as she continues the story.

"it's kinda funny that you spent the evening with a guy who's a carbon copy of the type you say you hate." suguru intervenes and you sigh at the snarky remark. satoru keeps chewing on his food carelessly, clearly enjoying the roast you're subject to.

you shake your head at the statement, "spending an evening with someone and actually enjoying the time spent is different."

"mhm, clearly if i hadn't called you you'd still be making out with him right now.." shoko mocks and you swear you can see satoru's lips twitch in amusement.

"we just talked !" you half whisper, half scream, letting your food drop into your plate, causing your friends to shush you.

"c'mon just say you like him, we'll still be friends y'know?" you look deadpan at satoru, a look that doesn't require any words.

"i mean everyone knew he had a crush on you in high school, it wouldn't be surprising if it was still the case." suguru shrugs, you don't know if if he's being honest this time or if it's another joke. you choose to believe the latter.

you shake your head and look around the cantine to ease your mind from your shit friends, which doesn't seem to be the thing to do as satoru adds another weight to your already heavy shoulders.

"what? looking for your new pet? homeboy is probably hiddin' in his room right now. i mean, when doesn't he?"

you breathe out tensely, butchering your food with your cutlery as you clearly picture some detailed ways you'd like to treat the man in front of you.

"fucking assholes.."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

after what happened during the last couple of days you really tried taking measures. good measures. and it was kind of ironic how choso should've been the type to try and dodge any interaction with your friends, but now you were the one trying to sneak past him.

he was nice. you'll give him that.

but he was stupid. so fucking careless. and really naive because he surely did think an evening sipping on milkshake meant something along the lines of "will you marry me?"

anytime he spotted you in between classes he just had to walk in your direction. whether it was just small talk or not, he talked to you every. single. time.

but he was so nice. you couldn't just shove it in his face? could you? despite shoko's encouragement to drop him there's something that just.. didn't feel right. and may God forgive you, but you know this is certainly not the advent of your good morals.

though all of that clingy attitude really pissed you off, you did find yourself thinking about that evening and how Elvis Presley was so annoyingly being repeated in the background. how his eyes, despite their darkness and exhausted features, never ceased to display the most authentically pure emotions you've ever seen.

"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me."

you sigh, heavily. some conflicted parts of you wanted to know more, an evening wasn't enough to just send him off right away, right? who was he? who does he claim to be? and the fact that you don't remember him, no, you can't remember him doesn't help either to your curiosity. because you did search through your yearbooks and to see his face didn't help you bring back lost memories.

shit maybe you just need someone to ring some senses to you but you also don't want shoko nor satoru to do it, as much as you hate to think about it they'll taint your vision more than they'll clear it out. in some ways choso was right ; their judgment might have their part to play in the way you think. in some ways only.

or maybe you're trying to blame your friends for your shitty behavior which only makes you feel ten times worse. you let out a grunt as you get up from your chair, going to the library to study with a clouded mind wasn't a good idea and even more at the end of the day.

failing to have a cigarette you can borrow from shoko right now, you choose to take a walk around campus. it's not the best sight but the air is far more fresh outside.

oh and how ironic was it when your feet led you upstairs to the dorms. it's not like you even planned your itinerary, it was like second nature to you, plus the air definitively felt a lot more breathable.

out of all the rumors you've heard, you knew at least one was true : choso was an orphan ; he stayed in the dorms right above the college structure.

and how absurd that was when you feet planted right outside his doorway – you can say thank you to the floor tenant files that didn't seem to care about the resident's personal information.

the thing missing though is your speech. you didn't have anything in mind. fuck what are you thinking? you're not even sure you'd want to see him at all, despite your evident location. before you could produce another stupid thought your fist met the door to knock twice.

it was about six seconds of wait that felt like half a minute as you just stood there outside. the door opened slightly ajar, and it reminded you of the first time – well not counting high school – that you saw him.

long strands of black hair dangled in front of the doorway before he stepped closer to fill the gap with his width. of course his eyes widened. they always do when they meet yours.

"oh, hey," he quickly looked over his shoulder, behind him and lowered his eyes to take a look at himself.

it was an agreeable sight, you will not deny. his hair were hanging loose at shoulder length, wearing only an oversized white t-shirt (was it oversized or just his actual stature ?) and gray sweatpants. you almost felt like diverting your eyes away as if you were prying on something you shouldn't see.

"hey."

silence.

"are you okay?" he stays still, swiping his tongue inside his lower lip while playing with his ring piercing you presume ; a habit of his you've noticed. you don’t really know if he's asking to be polite or if you genuinely look like you need help.

"mhm," you nod, "can i come in?"

"uhh, yeah" he takes another look behind him and you're starting to think maybe you came at the wrong time. "yeah, of course." he opens the door wider and steps aside, you enter and to your relief nothing crazy's going on.

the room is neatly organized to your surprise, not that you were imagining a slum, but you were expecting something more akin to the prototype of the homebody student. you avoid looking too much everywhere, you didn't come for that anyway.

choso retreats to his desk where he leans against it, his hands on the length of the edge to support his body.

"looks serious eh?" he escapes a small laugh, almost a scoff actually as he scratches his forearm and you suddenly want to leave the room because of how miserable you feel.

"we have to stop this.. thing here." you point to him then yourself.

you almost feel bad for him. almost, because of the way his hand previously on his other arm stops in the previous scratching motion, because of the way he only stares at you for a few solid seconds.

"what do you mean?"

"you know what i mean," you sigh "i don't even know why you suddenly want to talk to me anyway," you shake your head and look down. it's not even something you're blaming him for, you're really wondering why he'd want to talk to someone who plays on both sides with him.

"it's not.. that sudden. i've always wanted to talk to you." he tells you softly, "have i done something wrong?"

he's too nice with you it makes you audibly grunt.

"do you have a crush on me or something?"

silence again. a longer one this time. you didn't really mean to blurt it out like that, you'd envisioned something a little more subtle but frustration got the best of you.

his body shifts, his hands move closer to his body and he crosses his arms over his chest, tapping his biceps with his finger repeatedly. he stays silent.

"it's a yes or no question choso."

he pinches the bridge of his nose just where his mark is and breathes out a small "fuck".

"alright. it's ok if you don't wanna use your words, you certainly don't fail showing it to the whole fucking world anyway."

he takes a step forward rapidly, a single step but big enough to be closer to you nonetheless.

"i'm sorry, shit, i didn't know it would make you so upset. i'm sorry." he apologies. and you don't know if he realizes how upset he looks in the situation, he runs a hand through his hair in distress and you can see how agitated he is.

his face is right above yours, you don't really have to do anything but to look up to meet his panicked eyes. and it's a complete contrast how your eyebrows almost hurt from the frown while his face is contorted in worry.

and you'll blame your beating heart on your irritation and building up anger and definitely not because of his sole proximity. you try to commit to that thought at least.

"you're insufferable you know that?" you hug yourself as you readjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder.

he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek and looks away for a flitting second before bringing his eyes back on you, or your lips ; he's very indecisive poor boy doesn't know where to look when he has you this close to him.

"i.. i didn't know know how to tell you i'm sorry i just–"

"oh shut up,"

you practically throw yourself on him as it's the only way he'll eventually stop apologizing, one of your hands quickly wrap around his neck, to the base of his nape pulling him closer as your lips crash onto his. choso stumbles back at the contact and his hands reach instinctively on your waist for support, his body hits the desk where he stood prior and he escapes the faintest gasp at the harsh contact.

you wouldn't even have dreamed of doing this – fuck if shoko would come to know about this she'd probably laugh at you. but he's so gentle in his every moves, his every words, so naive about your motives it would be a damn shame if he knew what kind of crap person you really are. if the two of you really had to stop talking like you stated, your only wish would be to at least do this before.

choso's fingers grip more tightly on your waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your shirt practically playing with the hem of it. he pulls you closer and parts his lips to kiss you back avidly while your nails dig deeper around his nape at the feeling, before sliding them back along his jaw to orient his head at a better angle. you feel him exhale through his nose as you slow down your pace, slowly detaching your lips from his.

"y'taste good." he whispers against your lips, his forehead is practically touching yours and it's only now that you realize how much his features have changed within seconds. his eyes are blazed, breathless and fingers shaky around your waist. you'll blame the taste of your lips of the cherry gloss you're wearing – and he's wearing too now that his lips are shiny from it.

you're no better though, you swallow as you catch your breath, your heart is pounding in your chest so much you also hear it through the buzzing of your ears, coating the sounds around you.

"yeah? what is it, never kissed before?" you smile, you'll never get tired of teasing him, not when he always gives you the same look.

"not like that," he pants and smile back at you, a little smile that soon turns into a frown, "i.. shit, i wanna make you feel good. can i?" his voice is so low it makes your head spin.

"then do it," you kiss him once slowly and you feel him shudder at the new sensation, "make me feel good." you kiss him twice, even slower this time.

no need to say it twice for choso, if it's not you latching on him right now he definitely doesn't feel like backing down, he takes your answer for words and his hands find your cheeks instantly, cupping them as he puts a lot more pressure, making you step back. your hands lower down on his shoulders and your purse slip down your arm until it reaches the ground harshly ; not your priority number one right now.

he presses his body even closer to you and you don't need an explanatory drawing of what's happening down his pants as you feel his hard on pressed against you. you put your thigh forward, adding your own pressure against him and the moan that escapes his lips is enough to make your skin shiver and your panties tighter. much tighter.

still glued to each other, he guides you to his bed, just behind and it takes a couple steps back for your calves to hit the furniture, your body drops down the bed as you look up at him and you think he's about to slouch his own body on you, but he kneels down right before you instead.

you put your hands on the bed behind you to push yourself farther against the wall but to your – second – surprise he puts his hands flat on your knees.

"i need you right here," he soothes as he taps your knee lightly, making you stop in your movements. you don't know if he's about to do what you think he's about to do but your questions get quickly answered.

"can i?" he asks as he flicks his eyes onto your skirt, asking permission to touch it you guess. you nod eagerly and he leans back slightly to take your mary janes off instead, right foot, then to the left foot so ever carefully and putting them aside on the floor. you watch him and notice how steady and focused he looks despite his torso heaving up and down rapidly, you see it.

he straighten up on his knees and the sight has you gulping down, you're on his bed, he's on the ground just right in front of you, his eyes scan your face thoroughly you almost feel overwhelmed by it. your skirt gets pulled down easily, oh but so slowly, you prop yourself up on your elbows to make it easier for him.

"so pretty." he breathes out, he discards the piece of clothing on the floor and places both of his hands on your hips to bring your body closer to him as he easily glides you.

he leans in and his face is only inches away from your crotch, he glances at you before returning back on your clothed cunt. his thumb circles the hem of your panties as if he's admiring the sewing method and your breath hitches when his thumb drops a little lower, down where you clit hides beneath the fabrics.

"don't have all day, choso" you gulped, your hands bawl into tight fists in apprehension.

"okay–okay." he coos and immediately grant your wish ; he pulls your panties down and you're now bottom naked on his bed. it gives you a real reason to be embarrassed for sure because you didn't really "plan" on being that drenched from a single quick make out session. and the more he stares at your exposed cunt the more you grow impatient.

"choso.." you try to warn him but it comes out as a whine instead. he shifts as he gets closer to the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands under your legs to grab onto your thighs firmly.

"gonna make you feel good ok?"

"jus' do it–" you choke on your own words when you feel his tongue on you. a single lap and you're already panting in the room like a mad woman, "ffuck." you whine and your hand reaches immediately down to get a hold of something – his hair in this case which is being in his vision doesn't stop him nonetheless to complete his mission – as it's the only way you'd call it due to how devoted he looks between your legs.

he gives you a few more laps, down from your entrance to the very top on your clit, and he's diverse in his moves you'll give him that – he goes either way from the right side, then the left side, until he decides to flick his tongue against your pussy from side to side this time. you'd honestly thought the man would go down on you as his first time, his first experiment but it looks like you're the one experimenting for the first time his tongue skills – that, you don't miss to point out.

"shit- where the fuck did you learn to do that?" you pant, you push his hair back the best you can though it still falls atop of your pussy, giving you extra tingles on the way.

the sounds are purely gross, the room is nothing but a space for filth, hearing liquids collides whether it'd be his saliva on you or your slick on him. doesn't help from your restrained moans nor from his own whimpers that resonate lowly against your skin – it's almost as if he's being louder than you are.

he props your legs up onto his own shoulders when he leans down further into your pussy, getting better access while your thighs are in the air, tensing and quivering at each touch.

you start to seriously lose it when you feel pressure on your clit, getting even more stimulated your head starts to feel dizzy ; his thumb brushes against your folds to gather your juices before going up to your clit while his tongue starts to push down your entrance.

he mumbles something but you can't understand either from the pounding in your ears or because he factually has his mouth buried in your cunt.

"you feel so– fuck!" you almost cry out when he accelerates the pace on your clit "so fuckin' good shit," and before you get hold of the situation your muscles contract, your thighs wraps even tighter around choso and you're not really in the mindset to care if you're hurting him right now when you're nothing more than a trembling mess under him.

when you release the grip you have around his head with your legs, he slowly backs down and wipes under his chin with the back of his hand, breathing heavily as if he had just come flooding back from the water after a long dive. the sight has your brain rebooting from the start, simply short circuited.

"t'was okay?"

you almost feel indignation for his own self when you look at him in disbelief, "okay? thought i was losing my mind over there," you slowly sit up as you look at him with heavy lids. you probably look like you got run over.

"want me to get something to–"

he stops once he sees you getting your top over your shoulders, taking it off and throwing on the chair near his desk. you get closer to the edge of the bed, still sit up on it as you cage him between your legs since he's still kneeling on the ground.

"well.. i guess you have other plans..?" he murmurs under his breath, he doesn't even try to hide the fact he's staring, the man is practically glued to you like when kids stand too close to a tv.

"you're a perceptive one aren't you?" you leaned down to slip your fingers under his shirt, near his hips to take it off too, "unless you don't want to?" you whisper, stopping your movements to get his approval before starting anything but oh don't you dare take your hands off of him because he'll put them back on their original place.

"no–no, i do. i want you." his eyes meets yours and it's as if repentance was just knocking at your door and you don't know if you're willing to open the door because of how good he ate your pussy or because you really feel like you should do it.

"good."

you knew choso was introverted, a little shy even, the kind of men to be a little prudish even, the ones who'd rather stay indoors, the ones who's rather not get touched by anybody, even less when those places are under their clothes. you thought he was that kind of man when you'd first met him.

you got fooled. once when he mastered the technique of his tongue on you a few minutes ago that got your jaw dislocating in pleasure. but twice now that his shirt is past his torso, up to get through his head and you see yet another pair of silver jewelry. one on each of his nipples.

and your reaction is suited honestly, you just drop your arms and leave him struggling with the shirt on his own as his head is still tangled inside of it, you swear under your breath as you look at the two shiny buds. and maybe he did it as a distraction, getting two silvery eyes up his breast might be one hell of a surprise when you're trying to look at his whole torso ; but even in that case you wouldn't get why on earth you'd need to be distracted from his upper body, because what a fucking view.

once you see choso's head pop out of his t-shirt you're so turned on you're scared if you move you'll just leave the biggest pond of your slick on his covers ; you're feeling genuinely embarrassed to say the least.

"come here, get on your back." you tap on your left to show him the way on his own bed, he executes your demand without much more convincing. he lays down where his pillow rest, propping his head up a little as he still supports his body on his forearms, watching you.

which is not such a bad thing as it gets his whole upper body tensing up from the position, and you realize you got fooled thrice because of how defined his body is, muscles tracing his skin in the prettiest way.

you crawl closer to him and take his sweatpants off, throwing them along with the other remaining of clothes on the ground.

you straddle choso, only in his boxers now and he's always on the lookout for your next move, eyes traveling along every part of your body standing so close to him. you lean in to kiss him again, a simple kiss this time, not heated, nor passionate as you'd intended earlier, almost too intimate to your liking. you feel him relax under you, no, melt. he melts under your kiss, his back rests totally flat on his bed now and his hands travel along you jaw, touching you like porcelain if it were to break.

"it's only fair i return the favor, right?" you tell him as you lean near his ear, and if you chose to ignore the bulge in his underwear when you got him out off his pants you're certain you can't now. it's entirely poking through the fabrics to lean oh so perfectly against your entrance you have to fight back a moan just at the feeling. how embarrassing.

"fuck, please do." he moans, his hands get back on your hips slowly, pressing his fingers into your skin lightly. though you'd rather take some of your time, if you're in this might as well do it right.

you kiss your way down his body, from his lips, to his jaw, on his neck a few times — just because you love watching his adam's apple bobble up every time he gulps when you touch him — near his collarbones, on his torso and why not on the twins piercings he's got on it too.

at the contact of your tongue swirling around his nipples choso instantly throws his head back on his pillow, earning a deep breath from him along with a "fuckk" he couldn't bite back. at the same time your hips start to grind, slowly, cautiously, you wouldn't want to get off on his boxers now would you?

your hands reach down his boxers, under it to grab his dick but... maybe you got fooled fourth time. or maybe the saying is right, the quietest got the biggest and he's a living proof of the statement, you can attest. you break the contact on his sensitive buds and sit up correctly to look at it lay flat on his stomach, curved and strained in its own blood flow. you really have to close your mouth to not drool on it directly and you mumble something unintelligible.

his hands rest on your thighs, they try to guide you forward, they really do and you let them. you bring your hips forward, pussy gliding – as it's the only way it would be described, you're soaked – on his dick, just slipping through your wet folds, enough to mold him on the way forward, then all the way back when you return to your position. you let your hands fall on his abs, you're not even tired, you just need the support right now or else you're afraid you'll just collapse right onto him.

"God, you feel so good," you whine, grinding slowly along his cock and you honestly don't know how he's handling it down there 'cause it feels too fucking good for you.

"n-need you right now," he painfully gulps, he looks at the friction with a frown and he lowers his head back on the pillow, "shit..." he whimpers, such a wobbly voice yet he's not even inside of you thus far. you don't know who's winning the embarrassing contest but he might win over you if you keep giving him good pussy.

"so sweet. you're too fuckin' sweet y'know that?" you praise and choso's hands come directly to grab at your tits, cupping the roundness of them with both hands as he massages them slowly, pinching your nipple between his index and his thumb.

you're done with being patient actually as it is your cue to wrap your fingers around the head of his cock. you brush your thumb over his tip and his whole body jerks off from the touch, you slide your whole hand down the base of it as you pull yourself up on your knees.

you thought you'd reached the epitome of pleasure when he was between your legs just now, and you don't know what other seventh heaven you landed on when he entered you, but it was just as similar.

the head of his cock has just slipped through and you're already full of it, full of him. and you have no doubt when you look at choso that he's feeling it too. you both moan at the new feeling, a feeling you were too puerile to treat with such disdain when you looked at him, a feeling you'd never come to know if he didn't slightly hurt your ego with his kindness.

"holy shit, so fucking tight f'me.." he purrs through the whole process, his hands help you go down, steadily and slowly at your pace when more than half of his cock has sunk into you. your legs shake slightly when you've reached the end, you start to bounce up and down lazily, hearing every gushing sounds of both of your slick as they disperse through your organs.

he can't help it, you don't know if it's because you've teased him so much pior that he can't hold it in anymore, but the grip on your hips gets tighter, the bouncing up and down his cock gets messier, and even though your thighs start to feel numb you soon understand that choso has your back. his hips starts to buck back into you to meet your hips halfway, skin to skin as they collide rapidly.

"f–fuck, choso, you're gonna make m–"

"i know, i know." he soothes, you lean into him, chest to chest as you put your hands on his shoulders. and you can't help but be extremely grateful right now as you're practically laying down on him, he's fucking right into you with the help of his hands pressing down your hips as he moans in your ears softly.

"wanna make this pretty pussy mine– fuck. wanna make you mine." he whimpers and you can hear the way his throat tightens that he's close. you wouldn't wanna lie saying you're not – to be honest you've been wanting to come as soon as you hoped on his thighs.

you don't know if it's the heat of the moment, because you're taking his dick so fucking perfectly inside of you that the thought of being with him doesn't really repulse you that much, for it actually seems pleasant enough to imagine it.

"fuck–fuck-i'm gonna cum!"

and you sincerely hope nobody is in their dorms right now because you're sure the whole floor knows what their nerdy resident is doing to some resentful student on campus. he's so vocal you wouldn't have it any other way, specially when every each one of his moans reach your cunt before your ears.

you feel your legs tremble and your nails dig deeper into his skin when you reach your second orgasm, and not one for the weak ones as your pussy clenches so tightly you think you're sucking choso's dick whole with the suction. your hips get pulled up on spot when choso releases his own shot in between your bodies, his dick springing out from where it was caged. you still tremble on him when he breathes heavily, coming down to his high.

you both stay silent for a couple of seconds and reality hits you back.

"you're too good to me." he murmurs as he wipes some of the mascara under your eyes with his thumb, you head is still near the crook of his neck, you don't move.

oh only if he knew.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"can you believe nerdy boy got laid?"

you turn to shoko almost too rapidly, "what?"

"i know, who would do that.."

you don't say anything. you don't really wanna say anything for now, but you know shoko isn't saying that just to make the conversation when she waits for an answer. a valid one.

©nabitsun !

thank you for reading :D

#choso x reader #jjk smut #jjk choso #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #choso oneshot #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso smut #choso x female reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #finished this at 5 but it was worth it #i love this #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu choso

[rainswept]

counting backwards — throwing muses. 0.8k words.

Fog has found a comfortable residence nestled in Aventurine’s brain—a bustling one, strangling clear thoughts and fond reminiscence and expertly avoiding those gnawing memories he wished it would swallow.

He looks into the mirror, he shows his teeth. He hopes, to others, it looks like a smile and not a snarl—though, to him, he still looks afraid, and he swears he can still see the yellowing he had earned after so long of not being able to care for them (despite how the gold of his wealth had cancelled it out long ago and chased it off).

It was voracious, clamoring like a starved man, armed with an achingly empty stomach at all times; it was nimble, and it trembled whenever he did—with hunger, sickness, the cold, or fear, he didn’t know, it was a toss up—skin melded to bone. Yet, as much as it ate at his clairvoyance, it didn’t grow—it just… lingered, in the corner of his cluttered head, emaciated and shaking. It stared at him. It had his eyes, and the same blond hair.

He keeps practicing. He wants his expression to be bright like a future that is looking up, like the sun during the first glimpse of it after rain, and infectious—but it was bright like a warning sign, like the sun beating down on an arid and drought-stricken desert, and diseased. That wouldn’t do. His sight was bleary, and his hair was a mess, and he fell asleep in last night’s clothes; nothing about him screamed refined or expensive or high quality or worth anything at all.

It felt fearful, in a way, but it cared for its host just as the weather outside did. Maybe even less. It rained for Kakavasha, but this? This didn’t change for a thing. All it did was fast forward the time on the clock. All it did was steal from him, little by little, thread by thread, coin by coin, unraveling, rusting, wasting. But that was fine. He had money and memories to give now. He had the means to feed both himself and it. He was generous—he always was, but now he could truly afford to be without sacrifice.

For as long and well as he had played the role of carefully crafted, embellished with gold and beholding bones of wrought iron, every rotting rope making him up was one rainstorm away from snapping.

Speaking of Kakavasha, he didn’t remember much of him. All that lingered was the fear, because as much as he washed the blood—his kin, his kills—off of himself, that little frayed part of him, wide-eyed and with no more tears to cry, remained playing dead under its current.

He combs out any tangles sleep had imparted in the strands of his hair. He washes it out—the scent of the soap doesn’t take long to leave him with a headache, so he rinses and replaces it with equally migraine-inducing conditioner. He combs through it until he no longer looks unkempt or unwell.

That fog is still here. He should remind himself to grab his keys, just in case.

He hooks his finger in the corner of his mouth, pulls it back a bit further to check for any plaque or pieces of food left on his molars. There is none. He keeps looking. He straightens out his clothes, stares and bores holes into every last crevice that could hide a tell. He stares and stares. He remembers a time when he had no reflection, only sand and kin, only a guess at what he looked like. That was long ago.

In the mirror, when he still only saw himself in the faces of his family, mauve hair fell, and her voice still echoes: “What’s worth more to you, Kakavasha—the life in your veins, or the gaze you share with those incinerated bodies?”

What is more important to you, Kakavasha, the blood that keeps your heart that deserves nothing but death beating, or the blood that makes you Avgin, that ties you by something indisputable to the only thing you ever learned how to cherish?

That was what she meant. It was a stupid question.

He fixes his shirt one last time. He grabs his keys.

He knew how to answer, then, and he still does now, because he would drain his arteries of every last drop if it meant seeing them unpainted with theirs again—for the color to return to their faces, the life to their dull eyes—

He closes the door behind him with a soft click.

But that can’t happen. So he will continue to dress his wounds, cut his losses, and survive, until he inevitably joins them.

(He will never join them. They are dust, scattered in fragments across space. He will be buried in a lavish coffin.)

#rainswept #aventurine #hsr aventurine #hsr #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #<- idk i guess #not really but it can be seen as an add on to the series… so whatever

[kissitbttr]

a sweet moment of frat!miguel and muñeca that we rarely get to see

to miguel, relationships are complex.

he’s not built for one and never meant to. the idea of having to commit to one person when he still wants to have fun sounds like a real torture. the constant clinging and demands of going out on dates just enough to make him scowl. like what’s the point of it all? spending money on gifts or valentines dates just seem to be a waste of time.

until she entered the picture. gone were the days where his money were spent on booze and gears.

now, he’s having the ultimate pleasure of spoiling his girlfriend, walking her to classes, stay during cheerleading practice and begging her to stay over at the frat house. all that he did out of consciousness,

even curating the image of what their wedding would look like in the future.

yeah. that much.

the couple decides to have a small picnic at the campus park during their free period. whereas the rest of the students are busy with studying and walking from building to building, these two lovers find the spare time to be with each other.

“i love hibiscus flowers. they’re pretty” muñeca mentions, laying on her side with palm supporting the head. “sunflowers too—much better than a rose”

miguel fixes himself a smile upon his beautiful girlfriend, deciding to mirror her action by laying on his side as well. “how abouut cake flavor, cariño?”

she looks over at him and the sight is making her drool. the shirt that he’s sporting compliments his rippling muscles, not to mention the few unbuttons at the top showcasing a bit of his chest hair and gold chain around the neck.

“are you going somewhere with this?” she questions with a smile, seeing him shrug,

“just asking” he replies, eyes staring intently into hers. “i want to know what my girl likes—because if she mentions vanilla then i’m out”

muñeca giggles, head shaking at the ridiculous assumption. “i would never!” miguel grins even wider hearing the sound of that laugh. “i love red velvet—and anything fruit infused desserts”

he nods, making a mental note on that one. “what if I prefer chocolates?”

“then we can have both” she answers casually, hand sneaking through its way towards the slope of his calloused one. “chocolates and raspberries are good combo, anyway—not white or milk chocolates though. dark is the way”

“that’s my girl” miguel praises, his thumb drawing circles around her skin. “i love this dress on you, by the way—wear it often”

“you say that pretty much about everything i wear miggy!” she smiles, kissing his jaw. “you’re biased”

“is it my fault that my girlfriend looks good in everything?” he asks as if he’s proving his innocence, tightening the hold of his hand around hers, “got the prettiest girl on campus by my side and there’s no way i’m missing the chance to let her know how hot she is”

her cheeks warm at the compliment, looking down momentarily to hide the large grin that’s threatening to break through, “you just want to fuck me” it’s a joke,

“is it working?” he jokes back with a raised eyebrow, earning himself a punch on the shoulder making him grunt and laugh, “caray, ma!—you sure got some strength in you”

“thanks to my handsome linebacker’s workout routine” she winks, curling a loose hair around his forehead,

“put me in a headlock next, i beg of you” he says, and she can’t tell if he’s really joking or serious but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter,

“ugh! you’re so unserious sometimes!”

they both share a laugh after. “okay back to question number—five!” he picks a chocolate covered strawberry with his free hand off the plate and pop it in his mouth. “dream destination?”

her lips curl into a thinking mode and so are her eyebrows, clutching their interlocked hand against her chest. “hmm—bali, malaysia, and rome”

miguel hums, nodding as he looks down. she tilts her head to the side with confusion written all over her face, watching him. “what is this, intervention?”

“what, no. can’t a guy ask his girl a few things to get to know her better?”

“miggy, we fuck at least three times a day, i think we already went past that kind of formalities” she rolls her eyes playfully, seeing how he shrugs innocently and grin. “so? what is this about? first it was about my favorite decorations, second it’s about my favorite dish and drinks of choice and then third, and fourth—“ she trails off, watching the shy smile on his face appears as he avoids her gaze,

“what?” she asks confused, yet his smile is contagious and that makes her smile too,

“just thinking about how everything would look like for our wedding someday”

“a wedding?”

“y-yeah” he scratches the back of his neck nervously, “i’m making notes, you know? i trust them all with you, muñeca—want you to handle everything”

her heart somehow blooms in her chest, gaze softening when he mentions about marriage. tying a knot. living happily ever after. with her.

she feels the little girl inside of her is squealing at the thought of a prince charming asking her for a hand. like ones she read on fairy tales and bedtime stories.

he wants to marry her

upon hearing no response, he feels the embarrassment creeping in as he gulps, his hand trembling slightly at the thought of being rejected. he would probably cry if she told him that she doesn’t see the future together.

“look you don’t—“

“baby” she coos, her hand moving to cup his face. “you want to marry me?”

he feels somehow at ease when he hears the tone of her voice, realizing that he may not look like an eager idiot whom he thought he’d be in front of her, “i do” his response is firm and set. “do you?”

the way he’s looking at her with hopeful eyes makes her wish that they’re both alone right now, just so she could straddle his lap and smother him with kisses. but seeing that they’re not and at a public space, especially on campus, she’s holding herself back.

instead of that, she cups his face before leaning in for a kiss. miguel sighs into her mouth, kissing her back with much more passion as he snakes a hand around her waist. the kiss is somehow becoming more intense and hungry. he then moves himself to move on top of her in swift motion, making her giggle at his enthusiasm.

what’s supposed to be a simple kiss, turns into a heavy makeout session. she squeezes both his shoulders as a gesture to take it easy, not wanting the head of security to catch them in the act. again.

miguel huffs when she pulls away, but the taste of her lips remains to be the reason why a lovesick smile attached on his features.

“of course i do” she replies, “just make sure that the ring is ready after we graduate, o’hara” and miguel will hold onto that. he will buy the most expensive and prettiest ring ever for her.

she swears that the love she has for him is bigger than anything. he had changed a lot for the better and she couldn’t be more proud. miguel had learned so many things during the times he had shared with her, and it would be so crazy to think that she didn’t bring any positive impact in his life.

her existence is the key of him growing. not just love but as a person as well. and he would argue to hell and back with anyone just to prove the point of his gratitude to her will always be bigger than this girl,

none of these two lovers knew what fate had in stored for them. to have a committed relationship with someone wasn’t in either’s bucket list, let alone getting married. but everything seems to have changed.

before this, they didn’t even know each other. there had been a time where miguel didn’t know muñeca exist and vice versa. and there’s some sort of twinge rattle in his chest, knowing that someone else could be loving her instead of him.

he doesn’t like that. at all.

the negative thought that plagued into his mind somehow gets pulled when he feels her soft padded thumb traces his lower lip. his pupils dilating when he looks at her, with the pretty smile that he never gets tired of. seeing that often makes his heart fail to find a steady rhythm.

gaze in her eyes speaks so kindly to him. a look in which helps to remind him that she belongs to him and so does he to her. and miguel finds himself exhale a breath of relief yet once again.

‘she is so unbelievably gorgeous and all mine’

#frat!miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara blurbs

[delicatebarness]

i think he knows | chapter nine

Summary: As the sneaking continues, some secrets are revealed.

Warnings: Two perspectives are used. A few uses of Y/N. A lot of dialogue between multiple characters. Mentions/Implied Underage Sex. Our girlie is sad again.

Word Count: 1498

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A/N: I wrote this chapter while sitting in a van watching big sweaty men run around with guns (all I pictured all day was winter soldier) 🤤 I edited once I got home and had calmed myself down. 🙈

Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @cjand10 | @armystay89 | @itvy5601 |

Bucky's words hung in the air, it prompted a sense of anticipation. You nodded as meeting his gaze, both curiosity and concern rushed through you.

"What is it?" you asked softly, as the gravity of his tone set in.

Taking a deep breath, he reached out to take your hand in his. "I know this isn't ideal," he started, looking down at your hand rather than into your eyes he began to rub circles against your skin.

"Us, um, sneaking around, keeping this hidden." You listened intently, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach.

"But," he continued, his gaze found its way back to yours. "I also know that being with you is worth it." His vulnerability took you by surprise, warming your heart. "I want to make this work."

With a small smile, you squeezed his hand, silently giving him the reassurance he needed to tell you what was on his mind. 

~

"What are we doing here?" Peter asked while looking up at the 'Stark's Motor's' sign above the rundown car and bike garage. "You know this is Tony Stark's family's business right? Tony Stark as in Bucky Barnes' friend?" Wanda had been curious about the tension between the two groups of friends, she sensed that it was deeper than simply, different personalities.

"Can I help you with something?" Tony asked as he looked Peter and Wanda up and down. They seemed familiar to him but he couldn't quite place them. Wanda looked around Tony, noticing the rest of the group gathered on sofas behind him.

Just as she expected, Bucky Barnes, for being the so-called 'leader' of the group, wasn't to be seen.

"We know about the bets," Wanda stated, gaining the attention of the whole group. The smirks that found their way to their faces proved to Wanda and Peter that the rumors were true. Concern for their friend became evident between them.

"What bets?" Natasha Romanoff questioned them, her tone guarded.

"When you bet each other on how far you can get with someone," Peter interjected before Wanda could, his voice rushed.

"What about them? You want in or something?" Loki, Peter recognized as the younger brother of Thor, questioned with a mischievous smile. He noticed that he was the only one of the gang who would ever show their face to the game.

"No," Wanda began to make her way around the service counter, moving closer to the group of friends. "We want you to tell us what our friend did to deserve being a part of your games," she demanded, standing her ground.

Natasha rolled her eyes before standing up, closing the distance between herself and Wanda in an attempt to intimidate her. "Who's your friend?" she asked curiously while crossing her arms over her chest.

"Y/N Rogers," Peter answered for Wanda, she was intensely looking up at Natasha with furrowed brows. "Steve Rogers' little sister." A silence surrounded the garage at the mention of Rogers.

"She's been on the off-limits list for, what, two years now?" Peter Quill spoke up while looking around the group of his friends. The worst 'bad boy' in the group had, barely got into any trouble, and wasn't mischievous; he just liked to tell jokes and wear a red leather jacket.

"What's the off-limits list?" They asked Quill simultaneously, snapping their heads in his direction. Catching the moment Stark punched him in the arm, he had said too much. 

Sighing, Natasha seemingly began to relax more around the other students, going back to where she had previously been sitting. “The list of people we, under no circumstances, are allowed to bet on,” she explained, her voice still hinting at the annoyance the pair was causing. “She’s been on that list since her first day of freshman year?” she continued, looking around at her friends to confirm the amount of time. They all nodded in agreement. 

“Too bad the same couldn’t have been said for her brother,” a sense of amusement in Stark’s voice as he spoke under his breath. 

“Oh yeah, Natasha lost Buck some real cash on that one.” Quill laughed before taking a drink from the bottle he’d been nursing since Wanda and Peter arrived. 

Wanda and Peter shot each other a glance, a silent conversation of understanding happening between them. As they exchanged the silent vow to uncover more, they turned about to the group, knowing they were diving into dangerous waters. Bucky and his friends were the most feared pack in the school, only Steve and his friends weren’t worried about getting on their bad side. Even then, a few of them still watched their backs.

“We need to know everything,” Wanda exclaimed, causing the group to bring their attention back to the younger peers. 

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, but there was a slight hint of respect for the girl. “You two don’t know when to quit, do you?” she muttered under her breath. Ignoring Natasha’s remark, the two friends stood their ground. Not moving until someone talked. 

~

Bucky hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the right words. Taking a deep breath, his heart pounded. “Back in freshman year, I… I made a bet with Natasha,” he admitted. 

Your brow furrowed with confusion, “What kind of bet?” You asked, voice trembling slightly, you felt like you already knew the answer. Hearing it aloud, you feared it would make it real. 

His gaze dropped from yours as he swallowed hard, “I bet that she couldn’t sleep with Steve,” he confessed, your hand dropped from him as your body went into a state of shock. Your mind went back to the night before, how he reassured you that you weren’t a part of it. You remember now that he never denied the fact that they do make bets. “I didn’t think she would do it, Y/N,” he looked up, his eyes filled with remorse as he called you by your name rather than his nickname for you. 

“Why?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over your heart pounding. “If you didn’t think she would, why did you?”

“We were freshmen, we were just having fun,” he sighed, trying to defend himself and the friends he saw as family. “He was an easy target back, a try-hard, it was supposed to be a joke,” he ran a hand through his hair, as he rushed his words. 

The weight of his confession sank into your bones. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Disbelief surged through you, you couldn’t process everything at once. His reasoning only added to the turmoil swirling inside. 

There was a silence settling between you, your breathing and the background noise for the diner was the only sound. The image of Steve, oblivious to the wager placed on him, added another layer of hurt. 

You finally found your voice, it trembled as you held back tears. Not only were you hurting for your brother but, you couldn’t help shake the feeling that Bucky was lying about you. “How could you?” you questioned.

“I know I messed up,” Bucky’s voice softened, his hand reaching out as if to bridge the growing distance. “I mean, it’s most likely the main reason he wants me nowhere near you,” his words trailed off, and you turned away. 

You looked everywhere but in Bucky’s direction, afraid of the tears threatening to spill. “I’m guessing she then discarded him like he never mattered?” you asked, recounting the warning Steve had given you about Bucky and his friends. 

Another sigh from Bucky. “After everything, Steve caught feelings for her but it was just a game to her so she ignored him and has since,” he explained as he played with the straw in his milkshake glass. “It wasn’t until a couple of months later that he found out it was a bet, a bet that I started,” he began mumbling to himself about wishing he had a smoke or a drink before continuing. “We’ve never been okay since, which I understand on some level, but, he came out stronger I guess,” the confused look behind your teary eyes made his heart clench. “That was when he suddenly gained muscle and became the star athlete he is today.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, you struggled to hear it yourself as you tried to find the words. 

Bucky nodded, he understood that telling you would have been painful. He saw the amount of compassion and empathy you carried in your heart, he knew it was risky for him to tell you the truth. He wished he could tell you, we fought once over nothing but stupid boy stuff, but, he couldn’t.

“I understand,” he replied softly, his head dropped landing his gaze on the table between you. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and Steve. I just, I don’t want there to be secrets between us as well.” Even though your heart ached for your brother and Bucky’s confession, you offered him a small nod.

- - -

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #james bucky buchanan barnes #i think he knows series #i think he knows #high school au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x sister!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers

[lavenderstobins]

Hopper’s talking to her, telling her to breathe, but all Nancy can focus on is Robin, dead, in front of her.

She barely registers when Steve stumbles in. Hopper’s moving before she processes it, trying to gently escort him out.

Steve’s a mess. Wild-eyed, his face streaked with tears, hair unkept.

“I need to say goodbye,” Steve begs, fighting against Hopper’s steady arms. “I need—I need to tell her I love her and that I’m sorry and—and I need to find the fuckers that did this—”

Steve knows about her ‘gift’. He looks directly at her, a plea on his face.

Nancy thinks of Barb, still and silent in her arms.

“Let him stay,” she croaks.

“Wheeler—” Hopper starts. She shakes her head.

“Let him stay.”

Hopper relents. Steve scrambles over, faltering when he sees Robin.

Nancy understands. It’s not a pretty sight.

At open-casket funerals, the deceased undergoes hours of careful preparation to make them look presentable. To make sure they look as close to how they did in life as possible.

That is not the case here. Robin’s skin is a sickly white, freckles stark in contrast. Ugly purple marks cover her throat and neck. Strangulation, from the looks of it. Nancy doesn’t want to imagine it.

Steve strokes Robin’s hair, the gentlest Nancy has ever seen him. Fresh tears have started running down his cheeks.

“Steve,” she starts, equally gentle, because how can she tell him this? How can she describe the sensation of having your whole world stopped, started, and stopped again?

“I know,” he says, not taking his eyes off Robin. “I’m ready.”

She wants to say, You can never be ready.

Instead, she nods, and taps one finger to Robin’s cheek.

The effect is instant. Robin gasps, eyes flying open, one hand automatically going to her throat.

Steve lets out a sob, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should’ve been there, I’m sorry—”

“Dingus,” Robin rasps, and she’s crying too. Nancy averts her eyes, a pang in her chest.

Hopper must decide to let them have their moment because nearly five minutes pass before he comes over. He asks Robin questions, the standard procedure, and Robin answers shakily, her hand held in Steve’s.

Robin didn’t fully see her attacker. It was a man, that much she knows. She’d managed to flee the initial attack but he’d caught up to her when she tried to lose him in the woods. She thinks he was less prepared because of it, but things are hazy. She remembers being pinned down, hands around her throat, and these cold, terrifying eyes. His face had been covered with only his eyes visible.

Hopper takes notes, frowning. Finally, the questioning comes to an end, Robin out of answers. His head slowly swivels to Nancy.

Steve’s still clutching Robin. They both look at her with a sad understanding on their faces.

“I’ll find him,” Steve says quietly, resting his forehead against the top of Robin’s head. “I’ll find whoever did this and I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.”

Robin just smiles sadly. She murmurs something too quiet for Nancy to hear, but she doesn’t miss the devastation that flits across Steve’s face.

They look at her expectantly, both clearly trying hard not to cry. They’re still holding hands.

Nancy can’t do it.

“Wheeler,” Hopper says, low, a warning.

“I can’t,” Nancy whispers. She knows what will happen if she lets Robin live. The same thing that happened when she couldn’t let Will die again, when she couldn’t let Eddie die again.

The universe rights its wrongs in its own way. If it can’t have its death, it will take another. When she’d brought Will back and kept him alive, a well-loved local, Benny Hammond, had died. When she’d let Eddie live, Jonathan and Will’s stepfather Bob had a heart attack out of nowhere. There’d been seemingly nothing to cause either death.

If she lets Robin live, someone else will die in her place.

The worst part is that Nancy finds she doesn’t care.

She can’t let Steve lose his best friend the way she lost hers. She can’t let this be the end of Robin’s life.

Kind, funny Robin, who has always been so full of life, so loved by everyone around her. Nancy’s never gotten the chance to really get to know her, but she’s always wished she had.

“I can’t,” she repeats, her voice steadier now. “I won’t. It’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.” Hopper’s voice is kind. She doesn’t deserve it.

“I won’t do it. Steve—”

Steve looks stunned, a hopeful expression dawning on his face. Hopper looks at him and sighs.

“I can’t force you. But… well, on your own head be it.” He shakes his head. “I’m going back to the station. You’re causing me a lot of paperwork.”

As he leaves, Steve turns to her. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you—”

“As far as you’re concerned, Robin survived the attack.” Nancy keeps her voice steady, avoiding eye contact with both of them. “Robin…”

Robin’s eyes are on her. Curious, focused, like they’re studying her. Nancy swallows hard.

“Robin, you should avoid going anywhere alone for a while. If your attacker thinks you could identify him he’ll try and finish the job. I won’t be able to do this twice.”

Robin gives a short nod. “I’ll lay low for a while.”

Her voice is soft, raspy. Steve, maybe afraid Nancy might suddenly change her mind, thanks her one last time before helping Robin up and ushering her out.

Nancy watches their retreating backs, a heavy weight in her chest.

In the nicest way possible, she hopes she never sees Robin again.

#st pushing daisies au #my fics #st ficlet #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #stranger things #steve harrington #jim hopper #ronance #stobin #platonic stobin #my writing #pushing daisies au

[suhjihanma]

Burn with you.

Pairing: College!AU Gojo Satoru / Female Reader Content Warning: Use of marijuana, slight mentions use of unscripted drugs, pussy eating, altered-state of reader, characters under the influence, drug intoxication, light OOC moments, light dubious content, mentions of drug sneaking, name-calling. Author's Note: Happy 4/20 to everyone (I'm almost open to 4/20 thirsts in my inbox). I'm high right now, and I literally done this writing piece while blasted so, apologies if some sentences have grammar mistakes. I know this is not the best but, I hope you guys like it. Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated. Minors, age-less blogs do not interact. Thank you.

The drowning of your senses could feed on your ignorance. A body heightened in a relaxed state would be the least of your worries, then again sometimes those worries get the best of you. 

The beams of the sunset had plastered around the living room as an exhale left your slightly quivering lips. Droplets of perspired sweat rolled down your temples as you squirmed away from a familiar force. This was the same force that had relentlessly taken over every orgasm in your body.  The whispering pleas fall on deaf ears as you forcefully grip his hair, urging the man to break away from the minuscule stream that overflows underneath your shaking thighs. 

You wanted him to stop. Rather, you would like to share a bowl with him and discuss the endless matters of the world, yet this man wanted to pique his interest in something else. A familiar taste known for the male palate. Secretions made up of lust, along with other emotions that formed you, drove a man like Satoru towards the point of insanity. Losing the sense of oneself while lost between a woman’s thighs was more than enough to make Satoru slowly grunt in frustration, making a gurgled cry come from your moaning lips. 

Damn him, to use his vocal sounds for an advantage. College-aged men like Satoru were known to use cunning motives in making women fall to their knees. Even more so when offering weed to this simple, yet complex equation. Nothing was wrong with using a harmless drug in leisure, yet woman’s intuition made its presence known, scolding your impulses of horniness, damning you by releasing soft banters as another orgasm cruises towards its peak.

Fuck, his tongue felt like absolute heaven.

“Does smoking weed make you get more wet?” Satoru grunted out a question before the tip of his tongue traced along the outside of your puffed clitoris. “Maybe I should sneak some droplets in between.” Satoru laughed at himself before swiping his tongue around the dampened entrance. 

“Just kidding.” 

The rough hands that were once mysteriously restraining your soft arms now found themselves caressing thighs covered in sweat. The roughness of his hands sent you almost to the edge as you begged him not to tease you, out of mercy with wanting the release that ached deep within your core. 

“I asked you a question, so I want you to make out an answer.” His front teeth slightly traced again over the sensitive organ as you cried out in frustration. For what reason the frustration came out, a mind doped in euphoria couldn’t comprehend. 

“Are you that stupid, or too high?”

You tried to voice out an answer out of anger until Satoru talked over your pleading. “Then again, with how many times you hit the blunt earlier, I might not expect you to make a full sentence.” An airy laugh came from his chest as he caressed your thighs, feeling the thickness that were grasped inside the palm of his hands. Another whimper of annoyance escaped agape lips as you looked over Satoru with furrowed eyebrows. Eyes glistening with the decorations of snow now pierced your soul, a shade of a familiar pink danced carefully around both eyes of sclera.  His attention with you never went away. The fixation of drowning deep in your pussy while elevated on drugs merely became a fantasy shifted towards reality. Thoughts and sounds didn’t make any sense, but the suckling, wet sounds grew to sound more appeasing.

Every nerve in your body was singing for bliss, yet they became overwhelmed with Satoru’s endless rambling, continuing his lapping across salted lips.

“Then again, your pussy always tastes better high.”

#jjk #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #saturo gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo saturo #gojo sensei #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut

[vanya-evergreen]

A/n- Woo first post! Exciting but so nerve racking, honestly have never posted my fanfic before. So, sorry if its kinda rough, had no one to beta, bare with me please. The characters are probably OOC, since I only recently got back into DC after seeing the "do the butts match post?" from the ai voice reddit post on tik tok. But you what that's more fun anyways, right? No use of Y/n

Cw: brief description of gore (it's in like one sentence)

anyway please enjoy a really really random idea :D

You never really paid attention to tabloids in your original world. Not that you didn't overhear things about it, or even talk about it with your peers. You just could never really remember whatever rumor was going around about whatever the rich people did or how one of them was a vigilante because the butts matched, but honestly you didn't even really know what's going on in the world. you just want to think about your interests and only your interests. So when you woke up in a new world at the age of 11, it was… weird. You were much more well off then in your original world, well atleast based on the sky-top apartment you had to yourself (besides the helpers), not that you were too poor to begin with but still a nice upgrade. You never really stopped to question where the money came from, so what makes you think you would start to pay attention to the world around them now? All you knew is that you were still in Gotham, just richer. You were still the same age as you were in your world so school was a thing. So going to an elite school (that you didn't even know was considered elite) since the beginning of middle school was… an experience. You weren't a prominent person even in this world, you were, well you.  So with not being recognizable, when to survive you need to be recognized, was not ideal. There were students that looked down on you, they talked about you when you first came. They questioned how you even got into the school, you weren’t here on a scholarship. You never really paid attention to this. Luckily Not every student was like this, only one group really. So beside the egoistic ones, you were generally liked. It was your senior years, many of the egotistical students had had a dose of realism put into them, and everyone was ready to leave school and go off to college. So, this year was the first year no one decided to concern themselves with you, well besides a sophomore who had transferred midway through last year.  You ran into him by accident early on this year, they said sorry and moved on. But the whisper around you should have been a warning but you were too much in your thoughts to really care. So when a guy with black hair and green eyes decided to stand outside of your class waiting for you, you raised an eyebrow. 

Tick tick tick tick

The room was quiet, with only a few scribbles of pens or pencils to fill the void. You resided at your desk, hunched over, while resting your face on your hand. Your eyes lazily review the assignment in front of you for the 7th time. You had finished the assignments for the day, with each answer being correct that  left you with only your thoughts. Your eye twitched, turning your head slowly toward the window, while slowly moving your head from your hand to the desk. You went through your day just to try and remember, waking up, first 2 classes, all fine. Until, on your way to your current period, you ran into a younger student, probably a sophomore, maybe a junior. 

You cringed silently, you were just in your mind, really your memories from both this world and your original world. When you ran into a younger student, you both fell and could only manage a quick sorry before moving on. He was barely getting to his feet when you turned away, you were so stuck in your mind that you couldn’t even offer a proper apology, let alone your hand. You can't help but think back to the faint whisper you heard as you walked away. You made a mental note to find and properly apologize to him during lunch, if you could remember what he looked like, seeing as you only really saw his keychains on his backpack as they jingled when he got up.

Your head started throbbing as you thought too much, you shut your eyes tightly, wiping your mind clean, then opening them again .You stared out the window, trying not to think much, just trying to learn to just exist. Why is existing one of the hardest things to learn? You watch the clouds clash into each other slowly creating an ocean of a scale of whites and grays. You slowly let your mind blank, even just for a moment, it was nice. 

You could slowly feel your drifting off, almost like you were disconnecting from your physical body. Until the sound of mindless chatter started up in the back of the room, pencils still wrote, notably faster than before. This means the period was almost up, so that means lunch and trying to find that one guy. You sat up, collected the assignments from your desk, then got up and turned them in. You got back to your seat right as the bell rang. 

You picked up your stuff and got out of there as quickly as you could, just to round the corner to be surprised by an underclassman. He had green eyes that made very uncomfortable eye contact with yours. You almost immediately looked away from his very intense glare. You side eye him and see his bag. The keychains. 

“Shit” you let out under your breath as you released your present problem. Your eye drifted back to his face, he didn't look all that happy to see you. ‘definitely him’. “Hey man, listen…” you started. You felt genuinely bad about earlier, you could only imagine how much of an asshole it made to seem like.

“Who are you?” his tone was blunt, with a twinge of annoyance.

Your mind stalled, that's not what you expected him to say. You thought he would threaten you or maybe pull the ‘do you know who i am card?’. The almost seemingly endless stream of words in your mind were stuck in your throat. “ ___ ___” you choked out with your last bit of brain cells.

“And where are you from?” His voice shot straight through you, the unease in your stomach grew.

“Uh, gotham, like everyone here.” Confusion clouded your already foggy mind , what did this have to do with you running into him earlier? “ I am sorry about earlier by the way.” you added quickly with a sorrowful expression, so that the cloudiness didn’t consume your intention to apologize.

“Gotha, hm, how come I have never seen any event?” he ignored your apology. Okay, that's rude.

“What events?” You felt like you were getting a headache from his questions. Why did he care so much about what you did, you were just a stranger to him. 

“Galas, charity…” he listed off different types of high end events, but you didn’t really listen after the first two. Your head was spinning, you had to try and collect the scattered pieces of your mind before you really questioned what right he had to ask you these things.

“I am sorry, but who are you?” You interrupted him midway through his next question. “Am I meant to know you or something?” Ah yes, your most infamous line. You put your hand on your forehead, reason out this interaction. His mouth was wide open, he looked almost offended by your question.

“you’re joking?” He seemed mad. 

“No.“ You turn your head to the side, throwing your hands up in the air while turning your upper body away.

“ Well okay then, have you ever heard of the Waynes?” You do remember hearing about Wayne enterprise last time you went to the doctors, like when you first woke up in this world, which was like, 6 years ago, maybe. That doesn’t really matter. You had heard of it.

 “The company?” you questioned. He groaned, if in relief or annoyance, that was beyond you. 

“Yes, but what have you heard about the Wayne family?” he looked you square in the eyes, you turned away slowly not really saying anything. You looked guilty. “Nothing?” you nodded assuring his previous statement. Still not meeting his eye, not wanting to deal with that memory for the rest of the day. “How?”

“I don’t read the gossip columns?” You suggested with an awkward shrug and chuckle. You only now realized that there was a wall of students formed around you and him. You were less than pleased with this. 

“What? What do you mean…” he was really pissed now, but you didn't even hear half of what he was saying you were just trying to find the quickest way out of here. You looked around looking for an opening within the students. You noticed one right behind him so you had to be quick about it.

“Listen, I am so sorry about being early, I didn't mean to make you fall, really.” you seemed less sincere than before, you were trying to make sure that you didn't seem rushed. “I really didn’t and if it had been any other time I would have made sure that I had offered my hand but I just wasn’t entirely aware. I am sorry, again.” You had made your way around him away around him as you talked, you maintained eye contact with him until you were able to slip in between the students. “Please forgive me, and I am sorry I couldn't answer your question adequately.”

 “Wait-” you heard him shout as you speed walked away, trying to blend in with a group of students that were walking down the hallway. He, of course, saw you slip into the group and approached you. You had to think quickly, thankfully there was another group of students that was going the opposite way. You quickly slipped into another group, successfully avoiding him. You could only finally breathe when you made it to the dining hall without running into him again. 

You went into the lunch line, trying to just forget whatever the hell that was. You moved through the line slowly, grabbing whatever looked appetizing today. One of the many good things about going to a rich school was that the food was edible. You were grabbing the last bit of your lunch before you felt a cold air run up your spine, you said a silent prayer in hope that it wasn’t who you thought it was. You tried not to look, Maybe if you didn’t look he would leave. You remained calm and walked with your food to the table where you sat with your friends, making sure to make yourself as unnoticeable as possible. You were able to sit down and eat most of your lunch before you felt him approach your table, you could feel a cold sweat develop on your shoulders as you took your last couple of bites.

He gradually approached, carefully looking over everyone trying to figure where you were. Your friends were having a typical conversation, what they were doing that night or where they are going to college and what they are going to study. Until one of them saw him approach. “Is that Damian Wayne approaching us, right now?” that when you realized why he was having a hard time with you early, you couldn’t recognize him or his family, but your friends, who never cared for status and the tabloid’s talk recognized him, or Damian now that you had a name to the face. You straightened up when you heard this. 

Your friends looked at you strangely until they realized you were the one he was looking for, and you did not want to be found. They acted quickly. They, as naturally as possible, started to clean up. Throwing away trash, and putting away their food. They even helped you pack up, and as a group you slipped out of the dining hall into a hallway, then out into the courtyard. You would have to thank them later with some homemade baked goods. They really came to your rescue today.

You looked at your phone, 12:45. Lunch was almost over, never would have you thought that you would be grateful for that. ‘Only 5 more minutes’. Your relief was somewhat short lived as you had to now answer their question. “So, what happened?” one of them, Leah, asked flatly.

“Well you see…” You started not really wanting to talk. You looked around trying to procrastinate this conversation.

“Stop putting this off” Another one, Warren, jabbed you in your side with a pencil causing you to flinch.

“Fine…” you sighed feeling defeated, ” So, today I may have, made him fall, but I also fell.” you signed as you talked. you looked down and then back up at Wynn hoping for their pity only to be met with a vaguely threatening look to continue. “And after 3rd period he was waiting for me in the hallway and he asked who I was. I told him my name and then asked who he was because he was asking me a lot of questions.”You smiled with fear behind your eyes. They looked at you mouth agape, no one could be as out of tune with the news as you are.

‘What the hell? Did you even apologize??’ Wynn signed, they were not happy with you.

“ The fuck you mean you didn’t know him?” Leah exclaimed, grabbing onto your shoulders and shaking you very violently, making you feel sick. You knew you fucked up bad when Warren did have anything to say. 

“Wynn, I did apologize!! Like 3 times too, and I am sorry I am too busy thinking of other things!” You continued to sign as you talked, trying to defend yourself. Warren and Leah were lecturing you about how stupid your actions were and Wynn was just shaking their head. You started to tune them out when you saw the door open and of course Damian came outside. You quickly got up and picked up your stuff.

“We need to finish our-” he started before being interrupted by the bell ring. Much to your luck.

“Hey, well see you guys later, I need to get to class” you waved goodbye to your friend and signed ‘please don't kill me’ to Wynn, before you ran past Damian to your 4th class, They all exchanged looks with each other before you friends quickly walked away to their own classes. You made it to your 4th period without much trouble, besides a few stares the class went perfectly, boring but fine. The next 2 classes were a mix and repeat of your 4th period, only with increasing whispers every time you walked in a class.

 It was finally your 8th class, study hall, you were able to get to your normal spot without much trouble. You were even able to put in your headphones and start working on a rough draft to a machine that you were designing. You sat most of the day up until this point, so your arms always felt stiff. So you stretched your arms, only to hit something. Quickly retracting your arms back to your side, you turned around. ‘FUUUUUU-’ It was Damian. “Heyyyy.” you slowly turned back to your computer in front of you, taking off your headphones.

“Are you gonna avoid me again?” He was looming over you, you could feel the burning on top of your head from the way he glared at you. You shut your laptop and braced yourself for all the questions he was going to ask. 

“No.” You shook your head, he sat down across from you. You looked anywhere but at him.

“The events, why have I never seen you?” He went straight to it.

“I don't think I am famous enough to go.” You shrugged, he raised an eyebrow at you suggesting that you were lying. You were ticked off by this. “ Listen, If I have gotten an invite, I have never seen it.” You folded your arms. 

“ How did you get into this school?” You didn't really have a clear answer to this one, “I have heard about how you could never recognize people who are from well known families in Gotham, and some that were even famous by themselves.”

“A trust fund.” That was your typical go to answer, but in all honesty you didn't know. While you had some memories, a very limited amount, of this body's life, they were almost all blurry. None of them were really clear, but you could feel what they, the other you, were feeling. You could make really rough assumptions. Like you knew you had a mother (or a female figure) that you loved, and somewhere along the way she got remarried and you had step-parent up until she died. You could feel the way the memories would cause a physical reaction so you tried not to think about it too much. “And I just have never really had the mental space to pay attention to that, plus faces and names aren’t my thing.”

He wasn’t satisfied with your answers “So what? You just don't know anything about the world?”

“No, of course I pay attention to the crimes in Gotham, and the people that handle them.” This wasn’t a lie, you did pay attention to that, you even knew their names, a big honor to have, in your mind at least. You were a huge fan of them, even before- you know. 

“Hm.” He slouched as he contemplated your answers, while resting his hands intertwined together maintaining eye contact with you. There was silence between you two, it was too long. You restlessly tapped your fingers on the table while resting your head on the other hand, watching him. Waiting for whatever comes next of his seeming never ended questions, but he seemed to be stumped.

“Is that it?” You broke the silence “You have everything you need to know. Right?” You straighten your back, now sitting up right. He only continued to stare. Internally you rolled your eyes before you put one of your headphones on. 

You opened your laptop, quickly glancing over the blueprint for the machine. You were getting bored of this. you looked blankly at your computer screen. ‘I wonder what I can find about Damian's family.’  What a dangerous thought to have. You, with a renewed vigor, quickly opened a new search window and started simple. ‘Wayne family’ you were overwhelmed with the number of results. 2 billion. 2 billion. You understood why Damian was so shocked now. That was just for the family too; you count the profiles, 9. 

First, you clicked on ‘Thomas Wayne’, you were somewhat familiar with the name. You read about the tragedy of how he died, you knew this story, you watched a true crime video on it a couple of years back. You felt it was only appropriate to make your way down the family tree so you clicked on ‘Bruce Wayne’. Of course you could assume he was Damian's father. There were links to articles about some scandal of his or how his business was doing. You read a bit further only to find out that the man adopted a lot. Like, you had wondered how he had 6 children but guess that was your answer. You were about to click on Damian's profile only to stop.

“What exactly are you doing?” So he didn’t lose his vocal cords. You snapped out of your trance by his voice.you realized how funky what you just did was.You felt a bit like a creep now, searching up his family in front of him was not the best idea.

You coughed clearing your throat “Why do you care?” You tried to keep an even voice. 

“You were staring so intently at your computer that it almost looked like you were planning something.” He leaned back with his arms folded. 

“Well,” You closed your search tab later, planning on continuing to research (basically stalk) them later. “I am working on a machine.” You ignored the underlying implication that you were possibly evil. You pulled up the blue prints and math for the machine and turned it around to show him. 

“What does it do?” His glare intensified.

“It’s meant to be a multi-dimensional portal, of sorts.” This was the truth. “It's more of a concept than anything.” This was a lie. “I have to make this for my engineering class, we have an assignment where we make up a theoretical invention and try to come up with a way to make them real” Another truth.

“Interesting,” he became more vigilant, yet interested because of  your words. “And have you figured it out?” 

“No, and if I did it probably wouldn’t work,” much to your dismay. “This assignment is more about how well we can explain our logic than the actual realism of it.”

“Oh,” You couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or disappointed. “Well you must enjoy the class if you are putting this much work into it.”

“Yep ,” you said through slightly gritted teeth. You didn’t mind the class, in fact you would’ve loved it, if you were still in your original word. “I guess.” You smiled tightly, turning your laptop back around. “So what about you? Do you have a favorite class?” Your smile shifted from tight and sharp to curved and soft, this was classic. You did this when you were trying to shift the attention away from something you didn’t want to discuss. You could almost see him relax, ever so slightly, but still he’s coming around. Maybe.

“Art” his arms were still folded, but his eyes didn’t seem so analytical or hostile. While it wasn’t a lot it was better than what you had gotten out of him from most of the conversation. 

“Really, would you be willing to show me some of your pieces?” you asked ever so politely. 

“Why would I show you?” And there is the defensiveness.

“Because I showed you my blueprints.” your smile faltered for a moment only to return within a second, you looked back to your laptop.

“Right,” his arms were more loosely folded. “Still I don't have too.” his arms tighten back up again.

“That is true,” you nodded in agreement, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing them, but that's your choice.”  You weren’t going to force him to do anything, it wasn’t your job. He was quiet. You peered over your laptop to see what was going on. He looked at you, eyes wide, arms barely folded. He looked like a cat after finding something interesting. “What?”

“Nothing.” He returned to his vigilante mood. You shrugged it off and continued to work on your draft. He continued to observe you, you continued to work. You both stayed this way for a while’ it was like you were in a mental battle with him, a really one-sided one. You didn’t really have any intention of resuming the conversation. 

The silence was very welcomed. It allowed you to get your work done, you would’ve been done in 30 minutes if he didn’t show up. The silence was interrupted but the sound of a zipper opening. You didn’t look up from your laptop; slowly a sketch book came into your peripheral. You glanced at it, with a bit of hesitation you reached for it. Closing and sliding your laptop to the side, replacing it with the sketch book. you opened the cover and started going through the sketch book carefully. While had only shifted the conversation to get the heat off of you, you were nicely surprised with his talent.

The sketches in the beginning were good, in quality. They were all of different gorey situations, from a man having his head torn apart, to a woman with her skin falling off, it said something about his childhood, but that was his therapist's job to decide what this said. The theme changed after a few more pages of graphics images, which had become much less violent. There were first a few of just some plants, they were nice but not as nice as the first bug you saw, you could deduct that he had real references to base them off of. You flipped through the page, seeing pages full of multiple individual sketches, to pages of only one, fully detailed, landscapes. WIth some gore but it was far fewer than before . 

You could see his improvement. They were good to begin with but they were too focused on the bigger image, they were missing something. You felt like he figured whatever he was missing, this was shown in the recurring dog, Titus, or that's what he labeled the drawing. You flipped  through a few more pages, mostly animals and plants, until you saw the first human sketch that wasn’t a subject of a horrific act. You had seen the face only 20 minutes prior, it was Bruce Wayne, but he wasn’t wearing his playboy smile, he wasn’t even smiling. It was only a headshot but you could tell he wasn’t present in his mind. He was wearing a thoughtful look, a distant look. 

You looked over the page more carefully now, there was still an overall theme of live studies of plants and animals, with some small landscapes, but there was new addition with people now, they were all labeled with their names, you roughly could recalled some of them from early search on his family, they were greatly detail, they all seem to show some sort of part of their personality, their real personalities. Not the public image they upheld but who they really were. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking at this, but you think he would’ve stopped you if he didnt want you seeing this. You turned more pages, he had improved a lot, he had not only found what he was missing, but more. Every drawing and sketch, you left no drawing unseen.

You stopped at one page, it was a full page dedicated to a  family portrait, or a sketch of one. The portrait was the formal ones you were used to. They were casual clothes, no one was looking straight forward. No poses, no one sitting, nor was their hair combed neatly. It looked like just a family out and about. They all seemed so close, it seemed to be more of a wish than a reality but you were not close to him so maybe it was his reality. You looked over the page a final time before turning to the page. The rest of the sketchbook was architecture and landscapes with sprinkles of animals that you assumed were his pets. The talent he had was special, you would honestly tell him that he should pursue art, even if just on the side.

You slid it to Damian. “You have some real talent.” You expressed with a calm tone.

“I know.” He stated as if it was a known fact.  You choked on the air in your throat trying to hold back your laughter. He held a blank expression, he wasn’t cocky, if he was he would be smiling. 

“I am glad that you see it,” You look at your phone, 5 minutes before school ends, “I always get annoyed when people try to deflect praise.” You closed your laptop and put it into your bag. “I think it's a waste of time, it's just an attempt to seem humble”  you secured your bag to your back, “but that’s kinda hypocritical of me to say, don't you think?” The bell rings.

“Yes it is.” he agrees, nodding his head.

“By the way, what class did you skip to talk to me?” There was no way he had study hall this period.

“Well,” he paused.

“Alright, good to know. Anyways, have a good day.” You walk away, before turning back looking at him “Feel free to show me more art if you ever choose to.” you give him a wide grin as you span around as you walk away with the typical bounce in your step. You didn't see his reaction, but it didn’t matter. You were able to get away from him without him asking you anymore questions you wouldn’t have been able to answer. 

The hallway was crowded, a sea of students were either trying to head home or back to their dorms. You got through it quickly as you had taken to the window method, where if you see an opening in between students, you take it. Something seemed off today, well more off than normal.  You didn’t pay attention to that. You made it to the front of the school and found your driver waiting for you. You waved and smiled before getting in and heading home.

Damian wasn’t sure how to feel about this, or he couldn’t pinpoint how he felt. He was suspicious of you. I mean wouldn’t you be too? You were rich enough to go to Gotham academy, which was known for being a school for the elite, yet he couldn’t connect you to any of the elite families. You also didn’t know any other elite family, especially the Wayne's. A founding family of Gotham itself, and always had something going around on the news. It's like you just dropped on to the face of the earth randomly when you were 11. 

He had already pulled your file from both cityhall and the school. Your school record was almost squeaky clean, only one instant of a fight that was deemed not your fault and bully targeted towards you. Your city record only showed that you were an orphan with no listed legal guardian and that you have lived in the same penthouse for almost 7 years. “No named father and mother is dead” he read his notes out loud. “What the fu-”

“Master Damian.” Alfred was standing in the doorway with a steamed suit for this weekend's gala. “Excuse the intrusion, I just came to put your formal suit away and say that Master Bruce is ready for patrol.”

“Thank you Alfred,” Damian put everything into a file, and into a drawer. He heads down to the Batcave. Passing many large frames with paintings, he never really paid attention to them, there were points where they were frames with photos and he looked over at just the right time to see a very familiar face. He stared for a moment before continuing to walk but much faster now. After he was suited up, he met his father as he was sitting at the computer.

“Damian.” Bruce greeted him, still reading over files pulled up on the screen. 

“Father.” Damian replied. 

“How was school today?” Bruce was never the most attentive  father but he tried.

“Fine, but I met this person today” Damian said.

“Oh really” Bruce raised an eyebrow and spun around in his chair, “who are they?”

“___ ___, they are a senior.” Bruce froze for a second at the mention of your name. That was all Damian need to see from him.

#batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne #Dothebuttsmatch? #first post #well sort of #dc comics #dcu #batfam #batman and robin #alfred pennyworth #dc robin

[tennessoui]

18) waking up with amnesia au pretty please! I was delighted with how many of the prompts you've already done, it was a really fun bingo!

Best friends sibling = band au

knocking on the wrong door = actually name of the fic

Nanny/single parent au = Nannykin

Etc etc etc!

hello hello this was sent january 10!! hope you still want some waking up with amnesia au! this just demonstrates how long i can hold onto a prompt i have every intention of completing

(from this prompt list) (& this is the waking up with amnesia au prompt fill i did a few years ago when i first reblogged that prompt list!)

(3.5k)

(warnings: angst but not incredibly sad. more like. here there lies some future manipulation/mind fuckery because of angst established in this ficlet but not resolved in this ficlet but would be in the future)

(also warning: vader)

It is somehow both the hardest and easiest part of the day, every time. 

It is easy to let his feet turn in the direction they beg to go during all his waking seconds. It is easy to allow them to lead the way. It feels as if a great and crushing weight has been lifted from his shoulders the moment that he sees the pillars standing sentry at the entrance of the Halls of Healing. It is so easy to give into his body’s desire to allow it to find its other half.

It is almost harder to stay away, to pretend to be the respectful and poised Jedi master he masquerades as during those long moments of the day that he is not by Anakin’s side.

But what is infinitely harder than journeying there or keeping his distance is arriving. Is what waits for him within the Halls.

“How is he today?” he asks the moment he sees a healer—it does not matter which one these days. They must all know him by now, know the series of questions he demands answers to.

This time, the man he finds is healer Ramak, at least, one of the primary specialists on Anakin’s case. Rarely can Obi-Wan corner him. Ramak is incredibly busy both within the Temple and outside of it. He has numerous priorities. 

Obi-Wan really only has one priority. Often this puts them at odds. 

“Ah,” Ramak says, adjusting his robes. “Master Kenobi, hello.”

“Yes, hello,” Obi-Wan says. And then, “How is he today?” In case Ramak has missed his question.

“He is much the same, Master Kenobi,” Ramak replies. “As he was yesterday.”

Obi-Wan swallows. The words get stuck in his throat for a moment and he has to force them up past his teeth. “What does…what has he remembered?”

Healer Ramak’s face slides from reluctantly indulgent to pitying. It would grate against Obi-Wan’s rather impressive sense of pride if he did not already know exactly how pitiful he is. 

“Memories are not stored within the mind chronologically, Master Kenobi,” Ramak says carefully. Obi-Wan has heard this before. Obi-Wan could recite this speech. 

Obi-Wan listens to it silently anyway. Perhaps this time, Ramak will find the correct combination of words to explain his loss to him in terms he can understand. “Uncovering them again is not simply a matter of starting from the beginning of his life and moving forwards. We cannot simply recover and present him with all of his memories from age nine, from age thirteen, to now.”

Obi-Wan can feel a muscle tick in his jaw and he crosses his arms. Another healer crosses behind him, jostles him in their hurry to get to another patient. Differing priorities. 

But Obi-Wan only has one.

“It is like…” Ramak trails off, thinking. “Picture the rain. What do you think of?” It is much too transparent, what Obi-Wan thinks of when he thinks of the rain. He thinks of Anakin as a youngling. The ashes of Qui-Gon’s body had not fully cooled before the skies of Naboo had broken open in a torrential downpour, and the boy, padawan braid that was both his and Obi-Wan’s newly weighing on his shoulder, had escaped from the palace in Theed, ran outside with arms raised up in wonder.

“When you think of rain, you do not recall your memories chronologically,” Ramak says kindly, as if he understands where Obi-Wan’s mind has gone. “That is to say, you do not immediately think of the first time you experienced it. Our minds store memories based on their significance to us, the meanings they hold for us, which makes mind-healing to this degree incredibly difficult. Not to mention, not only was Knight Skywalker stripped of his memories, tortured, and indoctrinated, he was held for several months. Long enough for new neural pathways to form, new connotations and memories to take the place of the ones he lost.”

“Master, please,” Obi-Wan says. When he holds up his hand to forestall the other man’s words, it is shaking slightly. “Please just tell me.”

Will he recognize me? 

Will he hate me?

Will another day go by where he does not know me?

“He has a long way to go yet,” Ramak says finally, lifting his hand to stroke over his beard. “His time as Vader left scars—”

“His time captured,” Obi-Wan interrupts. “He was a hostage.” Ramak looks at him. Anakin, kidnapped by the sith, without his memories, trained to be deadly and taught to Fall, was more than a hostage. They both know that. Everyone in the galaxy knows the dangers that Darth Vader represented to the Republic.

Very few know that Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker. It had been a terrible surprise. It had been the sweetest sort of relief too, to find him at all.

“Yes,” Ramak finally allows. “His time as a hostage left innumerable scars, Obi-Wan. Even after he regains all his memories, he will have a long journey ahead of him.”

“How is he?” Obi-Wan repeats, even though it is rather rude to cut the healer off. “How is he today?”

Ramak hesitates for a moment and then another, and his Force signature tenses as if at war with itself. “He requested to see you,” he finally says. “We’re not sure that’s a good idea.”

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat. The Jedi saved Anakin Skywalker from the Sith five weeks ago, and though Obi-Wan has spent each of those days trekking from his quarters to the Halls of Healing and back, accousting various healers and Council members alike, desperate for any information they can give him…he has not yet been able to sit beside Anakin. He has not been allowed to talk with him at all.

It is for the best. That is what he’s been told and that is what he must believe. It is for the best. Anakin does not remember him. He remembers the word master—he does not remember that he used to say the same word with respect. With affection. He does not remember Obi-Wan at all.

He remembers his master, Sidious. He remembers his master on Tatooine. He does not—Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why he cannot remember him. 

Anakin has never once asked to see him. 

“I want to see him,” Obi-Wan says immediately, turning towards the wing where they are keeping Anakin. 

“Master Kenobi, it is not a good idea,” Ramak says, but it does not matter what they think is a good idea. It is what Anakin wants and it has been so long since Obi-Wan has been something Anakin wants.

Something of what he’s feeling must flash across his face, because the healer sighs and rubs at his forehead as if he finds the whole ordeal incredibly trying. 

“I will not hurt him,” Obi-Wan says quickly, and Ramak shakes his head, dropping his arms to his sides. 

“That is not the concern, Master,” he replies, but his shoulders have slumped. His forehead is wrinkled, but his Force signature has relaxed. He has given in. Obi-Wan has won. “I—”

But Obi-Wan has won. And so he has already stepped away, intent now on seeing his padawan. He leaves the healer behind where he stands, pushing through the doors of the wing and finally—finally to Anakin’s room.

He’d been so volatile at first, when he was still Vader. The Jedi rescuing him probably felt more like being captured. Without his memories of the Order, of the Temple, of Obi-Wan, he’d Fallen so quickly as far as anyone knows. Sidious had taken him and twisted him and when he was found again, he’d fully believed in the Sith doctrine. He’d killed two Jedi before he was subdued.

So when he’d been brought into the Temple, into the Halls of Healing, they’d outfitted him with Force suppression cuffs. Given him his own room in order to protect the other patients.

Obi-Wan knows he still wears the Force bracelets and collar, but there’s knowing and then there’s seeing.

The seeing part takes his breath away. It looks so wrong, Anakin, his Anakin, wearing the cuffs and the collar. 

Anakin, his Anakin, with yellow eyes watching him intently from the moment he enters the room.

“Anakin,” he murmurs, a reflex. The sounds are punched out of him.

He is thinner. His hair is greasy. There are dark shadows under his eyes. The skin around the collar is red, rubbed raw. He looks a thousand times older. Guant and hollowed out as if the captivity and the Darkness has leached away all of his youthful energy.

“Master,” Anakin says reproachfully. And it sounds—it sounds so much like him, like Obi-Wan’s Anakin, that he has the rather ridiculous urge to cry. Master, master.

“How are you feeling?” Obi-Wan asks, though it is a useless sort of question. He isn’t sure what to do with his hands. What to do with his tongue. He suddenly cannot remember the last time he asked Anakin how he was feeling. It was never a phrase that was part of their lexicon—for so many years, they shared a training bond. Obi-Wan was able to ascertain his padawan’s emotions with a gentle Force touch across the planes of his mind. More often than not, he was telling Anakin to search his own feelings. He was not asking him to interpret them for Obi-Wan’s sake.

Now though, their bond is severed and Anakin does not recognize him as anything more than another Jedi, another man who he once called master, and Obi-Wan stands across the room from him and does not recognize him either, save for all the ways that he does.

“Surely they have been giving you updates,” Anakin murmurs. “I know you have visited every day.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says because he will not lie to Anakin. He doesn’t think he remembers how. It has been—so long. Since he has last seen him. It is all he can do to stay standing now. To keep a respectable distance between them. To not fall to his knees. To not stumble forward and take Anakin’s hand in his own.

“What have they told you?” Anakin asks, and he tilts his head slightly. His golden eyes are as disconcerting as they are beautiful. They’re his. They’re his eyes, set in his face, and Obi-Wan has missed that face for so long. For months. He’d thought he’d never see it again, and he is just now realizing that he has no defenses left against Anakin. None at all. The boy could ask him for anything and he would fight to the death to give it to him.

The Force is in flux in the air around them, bucking up, riled, in a way Obi-Wan usually interprets as danger. But the Force could be screaming a death knell and Obi-Wan, in this moment, would only be able to hear a sweet cry of wild joy.

Anakin, this is Anakin. This is his Anakin and he is here. Back—partially. Back, incompletely. But back. Obi-Wan…he’d stopped hoping he’d ever get him back.

Instead of answering his question, he presses the backs of his fingers against his mouth to try and stop their shaking. Every day he has walked here, accosted the healers, demanded to know the latest. And he has never once realized how incredibly difficult it would be to lay eyes on Anakin. How incredibly difficult it would be to maintain his composure, to hold himself in. 

Anakin’s eyes glow gold, but Obi-Wan’s eyes are that of a starving man. All he can see is honey.

“Come here, master,” Anakin says, reproachful. “Did you not miss me?”

The words move him forward where his own feet could not. “Of course I did, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers. Hoarse, too hoarse. Too trembling and old, but it has been so many months. He had thought him lost forever. Dead and gone and one with the Force, and for the first time in his life, that had given him no comfort.

Anakin holds out his mechno hand, palm up, fingers slightly crooked. He’d built them that way on purpose, Obi-Wan remembers. At fourteen, he’d broken his index and middle finger in a duel, bones shattering under the blow of another padawan’s sabor. A lucky hit, an unlucky outcome. Though they’d healed near perfect due to bacta, they’d always remained slightly bent out of place. When he lost his arm to Dooku five years later, he’d fiddled with the replacement until the mech digits tilted the same familiar direction.

Obi-Wan stares at them, caught up in the tide of the memory.

Had Vader ever looked down at his mechno hand and wondered about the imperfection? Had he thought to fix it once he had the time? Had he spared a thought for the black spots in his memory, the cavernous gaps in his past?

His fingers fall to rest against the sensors of the mech tips. They’re sensitive enough that he can see Anakin shiver at the touch. 

“Did you not miss me, master?” Anakin asks again, and his hand closes around Obi-Wan’s tightly, pulling him forward another few steps.

Obi-Wan nods, then shakes his head. Yes, he missed him. No, missing—missing is not a vast enough word. 

“You asked for me,” he hears himself say. “Do you—what do you….”

Do you remember me?

You must. You call me master. And you want me close.

But they pulled the memories of the word master from your mind days ago, and you hated me then. You did not want me near you. What has changed? What have you remembered?

“I wonder if they would treat any patient like this,” Anakin says. He uses his hold on Obi-Wan to pull him even closer, til his thighs brush the edge of the bed. “If it is the war that makes me special, if it’s my own power. Or if it’s you.”

Obi-Wan tenses. Him? He doesn’t—

“They’ve tried everything they can think of to trigger my memories of you, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Anakin says. When Obi-Wan tries to move back, take a step away, find the air in the room to breathe, Anakin tightens his hold and pulls him forward until the only option is to either topple over onto his padawan’s chest or sit on the bed at his hip.

He sits.

“They debated for many days, you know,” Anakin says. His mech thumb begins to sweep over the inside of Obi-Wan’s wrist. “If they should trigger the connections my mind has made to the word master. It’s a weighted word for Anakin Skywalker. Surely you know that.”

“I do,” Obi-Wan says carefully. When he tries to breathe, he can only do so shallowly as if his entire chest has shrunk to half its capacity.

“He was enslaved before he was a padawan,” Anakin explains as though Obi-Wan has not spoken at all. Maybe he hasn’t. For the past several months he has not been able to speak to Anakin aloud, could only talk with him in his mind—could never hear a reply. Perhaps he has forgotten how. “They were worried that after ten years studying under you, after two years fighting side by side with you, my strongest connotations to the word master would still be to slavery.”

Anakin ducks his head slightly, tilts it to the side to give Obi-Wan a small, private grin, as if the healers’ concerns are so unfounded that they are amusing. As if the concept that something could outweigh Obi-Wan’s importance to Anakin is so foreign and preposterous that it’s funny.

His smile knocks into Obi-Wan’s chest like a punch to the solar plexus.

“But they decided to risk it,” Anakin says. His voice is light as a feather. Airy and unconcerned. “Perhaps they should have started with smaller things. A light saber. A braid. A pear. A planet. But they wanted to re-establish my firmest conneciton to the Light as quickly as possible. And they thought that was you.”

Obi-Wan holds his breath, eyes leaping from their connected hands to the yellow of Anakin’s eyes. He has still fallen. He has not been healed. He is still—he is still—

“So they gave me back my masters,” Anakin pitches his voice low. “All of them, though I suppose I remember Sidious well enough. But they gave me back the Toydarian. And they gave me you.”

“They said you did not want to see me,” Obi-Wan whispers. “Why, Anakin, if you remember, why would you—”

“Because I hate you,” his padawan says as if it’s the easiest thing in the galaxy. “Because they could give me back Master Kenobi, but wherever Anakin Skywalker kept his love for you, it was not in your title. He hated your title.”

Obi-Wan flinches back so violently that his forearm slips from Anakin’s grasp. Before he can move from the bed completely though, his padawan’s hand lashes out and curls around the fabric of his tunics. 

“No,” Obi-Wan says because he must deny this—he cannot stand to hear it and not deny it. No, Anakin—there was love there, in the way he pronounced the word master. The way he looked at Obi-Wan: admiration shining in his eyes when he was younger, cooling off over the years into acceptance and affection. They had their arguments. They had their—misunderstandings, but Anakin did not resent him for his role in his life as his old teacher. His master. “You’re wrong.”

“He hated it more than he hated his actual slave master,” Anakin murmurs. Lightly, airily. As if his words are not landing devastating blows on all of Obi-Wan’s softest spots. “Do you know why?” “I don’t believe you,” Obi-Wan whispers because he doesn’t because he can’t. Because he’d have known. Because this is Anakin, this is his Anakin, but there are still cavernous dark spots and gaps in his mind. This is not entirely his Anakin. He is still missing things. Thousands upon thousands of memories and moments and learned contexts and—

“I think you know why,” Anakin says as if he has not spoken. Funny, as Obi-Wan had thought he was screaming.

“I assure you I do not,” he snaps, spitting the words out as quickly as he can so that his voice cannot break between the syllables.

“Because Anakin Skywalker believed til the day he died that if you had not been his master, you would have allowed him to kiss you. To take you. To be taken by you. Don’t you remember, Master Kenobi?” Obi-Wan tears himself away from the bed, from the boy in it. Just a boy. Not a man. Not when he was seventeen and drunk for the first time, slinging his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck and pressing his face into his chest, whining and begging and pleading—and not when he was eighteen either, bold and staring at Obi-Wan's lips, not when he was nineteen, on the verge of his Knighting ceremony and demanding to be given into.

Just a boy, just his boy. But never—never anything else. 

“Like I said,” Anakin but not Anakin murmurs. Anakin, but Vader too. “Wherever Anakin Skywalker kept his love for you, they have not yet been able to find it in my mind. I can only assume he loved you at all.”

Obi-Wan flicks his eyes over the familiar face, the beloved face. The stranger’s face. If it were anyone else sitting before him, he’d have a retort already on his tongue. He’d have raised his shields, gone on the offensive. There are few people left in the galaxy that can land a blow on him, and many have tried.

But this is not anyone. This is Anakin. This is his Anakin and this is something for which he has no defenses prepared.

“How ashamed did you make him feel for loving you, master?” Vader asks, tilting his head in cruel curiosity. “That he compressed all of it into something so small that a whole Temple of healers have been unable to find it?”

“Don’t call me that,” Obi-Wan snaps and this time he does not get the words off his tongue quick enough. His voice breaks in the middle of the demand, ribs cracking and parting to reveal the heart of him. “Not if—” not if you do not know what it means for him. For me. For us.

“Why not?” Vader says, and he raises his flesh hand to tuck a piece of greasy hair behind his head before allowing his fingers to fall to rest against his collarbone, ghosting against the Force suppression collar around his neck as if it’s a diamond encrusted necklace. “After all, am I not wearing your chains, master?”

#asks #prompt fill #obikin #vaderwan #so you know vader's number one priority is going to be to manipulate obi-wan into freeing him #because he can probably remember a little bit of anakin's love for obi-wan #it's not as gone as he says #but he also probably remembers the obsession with his master first #and that's tinted even darker by being a sith now #so within the next few weeks his priorities shift from torturing obi-wan for sport #to wanting him to free him so that he can kidnap him and keep him #and get away from the temple and all the memories the jedi are trying to give back to him #he doesn't want those #he wants obi-wan kenobi #hate and love and all

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Hi Kym! I apologize if you have answered an ask like this before, but I am curious for your opinion.

You've talked a lot about how intentional all the Buddie parallels are in terms of costuming for several seasons now, both with Buck and Eddie together, then with their respective girlfriends, and in comparison to Bathena. We are now even getting throwbacks to season 2 and Eddie's first episode with Buck's stonewash jeans! Tim is adamant in interviews that he never planned this bisexual awakening in advance (we know that Eddie was originally meant for Maddie ofc) and that he doesn't know where the characters are going yet, but even Oliver has said he intentionally leans into the Buddie of it all with his acting, or at least into Buck's then-presumed bisexuality.

My question is, with just how pointed and intentional the costume choices have always been, is Tim is lying? Or are the costume designers secret Buddie shippers and intentionally lean into this storyline too? How much of what we see in terms of costuming is the decision of the show runners/directors vs creative expression of the costume designers? Is there a point in the show for you where it became clear how intentional it was becoming with the costuming, where they may or may not have said, "we're going to commit to telling this story in subtext until we are allowed to tell it overtly"?

Thanks :)

Hey Cookie-Kat!!

How lovely to have you in my inbox, and what a great question!

putting my answer under the cut - because it got long!!!

The answer I give is going to have to be a bit vague I'm afraid because the reality is that as I don't work on the show and I'm not 100% sure on the set up of their various departments, I can't categorically state how they are going about things in 911 land! I can share my experience and knowledge of how things can be done and try to give you some sort of framework - but I can't definitively say that this is how they are doing things.

First up let's address the whole Tim lying thing.

Tim is all about subterfuge in interviews - its literally his job as a showrunner. I would take every thing he says in an interview with a giant grain of salt. the entire purpose of his interviews is to tease and hook people, without giving anything way becasue why would he spoil all the things he has planned that make people watch the show he is creating. If he came out in an interview at the start of the season and said

'yeah, we're going to do a cruise ship disaster and all these things are going to happen, and in episode 4 Buck is going to get kissed by a guy and figure out he's bi and Eddie is going to find out his girlfriend was a novice nun and its going to send him into a catholic guilt spiral, and maddie nad CHim are going to get married, but x, y and z are going to happen before they can get down the aisle'

Why would anyone tune in to watch the show? we'd already know what was going to happen so there wouldn't be any point - there would be no buzz and the viewing figures might be ok, but they wouldn't be remotely close to what they are. I know for a fact I probably wouldn't be tuning in - people like to be surprised, they like to speculate - we in fandom take it to a higher level, but even the general audience speculate - water cooler conversations about what you watched the previous evening and how you think it's going to play out are part of a show's appeal - part of how it keeps people watching - shared experiences are a powerful commodity, especially in network television and they cannot be shared if we all know what is going to happen.

I would also add that this season is the most explicit acknowledgement of buddie that we've had in interviews and that means something. The show - writers, actors etc have all been incredibly careful before no to ensure that they haven't crossed over into queerbaiting the audience - which is something I really appreciate them for. But this season, things have definitely changed. whether that is down to being on a new network, that actually has a marketing strategy and that actually seems to care about the show and the stories that they have wanted to tell, I don't know, but it is so refreshing and exciting to see.

Tim is a clever person - he knows exactly what he is doing and every single season, without fail we have him saying things in interviews that can be read in multiple ways - none of them have ever been lies - subterfuge is the name of the game - then if you reread them in the aftermath of the season, you can see what he said did in fact play out as he hinted at - he has the context that we didn't have at the time and that is why he can subvert and talk his way around things.

I genuinely don't think Tim planned to give Buck a bisexual awakening from the start - we know he never planned on the buddie of it all, but a good writer will go where the characters take them. As soon as you create something and put it into the hands of others (the actors, directors and crew) things can very quickly take on a whole new direction and a life of its own.

If you ask me, I genuinely don't think Buck could've had a bi awakening before this point - it wouldn't have made sense from a narrative perspective (and his death and rebirth actually make the perfect jumping off point to explore) until now because of the very nature of Buck.

There isn't a single show (by show I mean one that isn't a limited series which will by definition have a planned arc) on network television that knew where each and every character would end up at the end of the show or that characters journey (by this I mean when cast chose to leave a show). Yes they might have planned a few beats to hit along the way, but they wouldn't know the end point for the character. We have a perfect example on 911 - Michael - the show hadn't intended to end Michaels arc in the way it did - his journey as a queer man coming out later in life was an important part of the show - important for representation as much as anything - they had to adapt and change in light of what was going on with Rockmond and write out a character that they would've had other plans for.

The other thing I should mention is that When Tim says he hasn't decided or written the scripts for upcoming episodes, that doesn't mean he doesn't have a plan. He very much will have a plan. There would've been clear arcs for each character laid out at the start of the writing process for the season - they would want to get character a from one point to another by the end of the season. Its the how they get there that is the unknown - at this point we don't know the end points for any characters this season, but if we take season 5 Eddie as an example - at the start of the season he is post shooting and back at work, seemingly perfectly fine. By the end of the season he is genuinely in a good place having gone through his trauma arc. The arc they would've decided on for Eddie that season was to explore his trauma and how to get him from a 'seemingly' good place to a genuinely good place. From there they would've decided on various touchstones - so Ana being mistaken for Christophers mother and them being a family is his trigger to launch his arc. Chris being scared of loosing his father a major touch stone, pushing him into leaving the 118. His then feeling on the outside - left out and replaced by Lucy is his next one, followed by the fact all his army buddies are gone, another touchstone - coming in quick succession to build momentum and leading to his breakdown. Pushing him to actually get help - therapy is another touchstone - one that helps to get him to the end of the season in a vastly different place - healing but still working on things.

So you see - they generally plan an overall direction, but how they get there is the bit that is a bit fluid and can be determined to a certain extent by audience reaction (I don't mean that they would out and out rewrite the entire plan for the season for a character, but they might chose to lean into different aspects if the audience react in a certain way - we saw this with Lucy - planned for a bigger arc, but the audience reaction to her was pretty negative, so they changed direction with her character and cut her part down).

In terms of Bucks bi arc - they will have been waiting on how it was received before fully determining how to play it out for the rest of the season - I genuinely think we'll be seeing more of Lou as Tommy later in the season as a part of Bucks arc - The way Lou has spoken about it being initially a 4 episode arc, suggests to me that its always been intended to run it longer if reaction was good - which we know it was. My explectation remains the same - that Tommy will be around until either the end of episode 9, or the middle of episode 10, to get Buck to where he needs to be by the season end.

I am on the fence as to where exactly that is - Everything from set, costuming and the script is screaming at me that it's about Buck figuring out not only that he is bi, but that he is also in love with Eddie. That is his arc for the season. What I am unsure of is how they are going to leave things at the end of the season (and I think a part of that will have been determined by audience reaction), whether or not we'll leave him acknowledging his feelings to himself, to a third party (Tommy and or Maddie), or to Eddie himself. Of course part of it will be determined by Eddies arc and how far they plan on getting him in regards to dealing with his catholic guilt and what form and direction t hat is going to take, but I cannot see any reason to start exploring that aspect of his character if you weren't going to use it for a queer arc of some description.

In terms of costuming - which was the main point of your ask - sorry I get rambly in these replies some times - I always view it as the first 2-3 seasons at the very least will be about establishing a characters look and vibe within the wider show, and from then on you can start to play into themes and colour theory etc. Somethings you can establish earlier - especially if they are centric to a character more widely. Examples of this are Eddies army green tees and shirts - establishing him visually as ex military, or the black singlets that he wears when in an emotionally vulnerable place, or Buck wearing his white trainers as part of his search for self, or his white shirts as a signal of him being in danger. You can do this, because they aren't playing on anything in relation to other characters at this early point.

So the decision to take Buck out of jeans (stone wash jeans specifically - he's been wearing jeans they've just been black or dark navy) and have him in very obviously shorter trousers, creating a specific aesthetic for him - this smarter, fitted clean cut style that is different from his season 1 looks, has been about playing into his journey of searching for self - that is his big overarching arc - the one that spans multiple seasons.

The intent to do that, wasn't about Buddie (or bi Buck) when they started to use it as a visual marker for him. It was (and always has been) about Buck. about his search for meaning in his life and who he is, who he wants to be - about being his authentic self.

The reason I got so excited about seeing him in jeans once more, when the first stills dropped at the start of the season - was because I knew that it was a signal that this bigger arc was coming to fruition and moving into its next phase. The costume team have been sitting waiting for when the time was right to do this - its being done with such intention.

Of course I hoped that it would be buddie related - things were pointing in that direction from other costuming choices. And to me at least, I still think its very much buddie related - because to do this now - for this bi awakening arc - its too loud and too big for 'just' a bi awakening arc - its about something bigger for Buck - something long term (and I'm not saying Buck being bi is't long term, because obviously it very much is - bi rep is so important!) him figuring out he is bi is a smaller part of a bigger whole for his character. The implication of the jeans returning is that this part of himself he has unlocked plays into a bigger story. Bucks search for self has always been about finding love - about being wanted and seen and accepted for who he is. As a costume designer, I wouldn't personally be putting him into jeans at this point unless it was related to his endgame - being bi isn't enough on its own for them to decide to visually show that he has fully found what he has been looking for on his search throughout the seasons (the white trainers still being in used also play into this) because he is still looking for that lasting happiness - he's just taken a massive step forward to figuring out what it is and where it lies.

With regards to colour theory and the paralleling of Buddie with other ships such as Bathena or Madney. Colour theory alone it wouldn't be enough to convince me, it is in combination with other factors such as the paralleling of Bathena and Madney that it comes into play. The thing is, creating those parallels and colour theory combinations doesn't have to lead to something. I'm going to do a terrible job of trying to explain this, but I'll give it a go.

Various people, who work on the show in some capacity have all commented over the years that they weren't expecting the level of chemistry that Oliver and Ryan have. We also know that they have played into the buddie of it all with some of the scene choices they've made - sort of an acknowledgement of what we're seeing - the elf scene in s2 is a prime example - a nod to fandom and the fact that they are being shipped together - and an acknowledgement of the chemistry - without it necessarily needing to mean more (the same goes for things like the text comments on the botfly influencer livestream call etc).

Back then wardrobe are still very much in character establishment mode - creating and defining the looks of the characters, and playing into colour theory on an individual level, not necessarily on a partnership level (S2 Bathena would've been treated in this way as they were already intended to be an end game couple so you can play into colour theory much earlier), that comes later. I wouldn't have been able to write costume metas in season 2-3 in the way I do now, because the parallels didn't exist and the ground work hadn't been laid.

Once you get past that intial establishing phase, hat is when you can start to play into the colour theory much more in relation to specific characters and pairings. One of the clearest examples of this is Eddies black shirt green trousers combo that he wears at the loft when having serious conversations with Buck. He first wears it in season 3 at the end of the lawsuit/fightclub arc (3x09), and then we dont see it again until season 5 (5x04) at yet another scene in Bucks loft.

The meaning of the colours in that scene are important sure, it is playing into colour theory, but what is happening visually is that we're subconciously connecting dots and remembering that Eddie has worn this outfit before to talk to Buck - that means it must be a serious conversation, one very much focused on something Buck has done (or hasn't done depending on which way you look at things). Eddie has been in Bucks loft on multiple occasions between those two scenes, and Buck and Eddie have had multiple serious conversations in the intervening episodes as well. so why that scene if its not meant to make us connect dots?

Now on a fundamental level, those two scenes can be read as establishing the close friendship Buck and Eddie share - that they are following through on their s2 promise to have each others backs. its entirely correct to assume that - it is after all what those scenes are establishing. But what it is also doing is laying the ground work for if they want to take Buddie further. we know that the conversations about Buddie have been happening in the writers room and on set for a good long while, and even if you don't yet know if you're going to go in that direction, you would be foolish not to lay the ground work in a subtle way if you can, so that the option is there if you did decide to take that direction.

A show will use what ever tools are at its disposal to lay various foundations that it can then pick and choose to build on as it wants or needs to. It is why we see the pictures in Eddies house moving around, why things on the fridge change (fridge theory is not as out there as some people would have you believe - there is a whole thing coming up on Eddies fridge in reaction to guts and the digestive system - which will very much be playing into his catholic guilt arc!) in Christophers room move around and change - its not just about him being a growing (soon to be teenager) boy, its also about laying foundations for story arcs they might choose to develop down the line and the Buddie groundwork is no different.

Its not about the wardrobe team being shippers of Buddie - its much more about them knowing where a season is headed (in brad strokes, even if they don't have specifics) being really good at their job and now being able to bear the fruits of their labour from earlier seasons - they had been doing the same with buck and Taylor - now they're doing it with Buck and Tommy (and Eddie). It would've been super easy to spin the costuming for Taylor into more positive colours - especially on Buck - in season 5, but they had the bigger picture and knew she wasn't going to remotely be endgame, so they were able to play into that throughout the season. Establishing Tommy as a version of Eddie is building on the Eddie groundwork they laid and using it to make it very clear that we are supposed to see the similarities between them - its steering us as viewers towards thinking 'oh Buck has a type - He's dating someone like his best friend - he should just date his best friend' is all about subtly nudging the audience in the right direction - towards Buddie - its just most people won't pick up on it in a conscious way.

I'm not sure if this makes any sense or if it even answered your ask, but essentially the show is using everything at its disposal to tell the story its telling and they have been laying groundwork that can take things in various directions - they are just choosing to push the buddie agenda to an increasing degree (and I have said groundwork far too many times in this post!!)

Thaks for the great ask 💜💜💜

#kym answers things #cookie-kat777 asks #costume asks #costume things #911 costuming #this is such a rambly post!!! #does it make sense - who knows!!! #911 abc #buddie

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 24th of April, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 24th of April, 2024

Question: Does King Charles want Prince William to reconcile with Harry, and if so, why?

Interpretation: King Charles wants the arguments and tension between the brothers to stop because he can't cope with it (this is 'Don't make my last years a misery' territory).

Note: A lot of this reading is nothing new, but rather confirmation of what we already know or suspect.

Card One: The World

The World is a card of endings, of something coming to a successful conclusion. It usually involves looking back over what you have done and noting the successes and failures before you move on.

As an answer to my question, the energy from this card says yes, The King does want Prince William and Harry to reconcile. He wants the hurts/tensions/disagreements between them to be over, done with, finished, and for them to move on into a new relationship where they support each other or at least give the appearance of supporting each other.

As an answer to why, this card tells me that King Charles sees the failed relationship between the two brothers as a sign of failure on his part, and it is something he wants to fix before he 'moves on' to another plane of existence. I think that King Charles has been reviewing his life lately and he wants his last years to be with the illusion or reality of a happy, supportive family around him. I also think that he is quite upset that Prince William will not 'forgive and forget' to give him that illusion/reality.

Card Two: The Eight of Swords in reverse

The Eight of Swords is about being stressed mentally. You are in a situation and you can't see a way out. When it is reversed either the situation is a lot worse than the upright card, or you can finally see a way out of the situation.

I think both of these meanings are true here. When King Charles looks at the situation with his sons, he feels like the Eight of Swords in reverse - trapped, unable to do anything, almost victimised - and the situation is worse than he though it would be. This is giving him a lot of stress as he doesn't want his sons to be fighting.

He thinks he has a found a way out of the situation - his sons forgive and forget, make up, and he has no more stress. This completely ignores the hurt and the invasion of privacy that Harry has inflicted on his brother and his family, but for some reason The King is not taking that into consideration.

The energy of this card reminds me of when victims are told to forgive their abusers because otherwise they are bad people/they are holding onto anger/they are destroying themselves etc, and no one ever holds the abusers to account for what they did to the victim or says that the abusers should be the ones begging for forgiveness.

Card Three: The Five of Wands

This is a card of conflict, rivalry, competition, and arguments. The card shows Jason and Medea facing off against a green dragon that guards the golden fleece. I see Jason as Harry, Medea as Meghan, and the dragon as William, the Prince of Wales. The dragon is just doing its job, guarding a treasure that was given into its care (Prince William protecting his family and, in the wider sense, the monarchy), and Jason and Medea come along and try to kill it to gain its treasure (Harry saying horrible things about Prince William and his family because he is trying to wrest his brother's 'treasure' from him, said 'treasure' being his position as the heir). In the myth, Jason succeeds in killing the dragon with Medea's help, but I don't think that is going to happen here.

The conflict between Harry and Prince William is because Harry wants to be in Prince William's position - to be the heir. Harry is aided and abetted by Meghan in his actions. These actions involve everything he can think of that will 'kill' his brother, so he can take over his brother's role, including attacking his brother's family. This is not news, it is confirmation of something that we have seen for quite some time. This card is confirmation that there is conflict between the brothers, it is initiated by Harry and supported by his wife, it works through the media and PR (wands are PR), and that it will not stop until Harry has gained his 'treasure' - the position of The Prince of Wales, heir to the throne.

It is this situation and the vicious media articles that come from this conflict that is creating stress for King Charles and that he wants to end by having the brothers reconcile. I have to say here that given the gravity of the situation and the hurt that has been inflicted upon Prince William by his brother, I think that asking Prince William to forgive and forget and make up with Harry is a rather stupid idea. I can understand The King's desire to have an end to the conflict but I don't think reconciliation is the answer, or even possible. This competition is all one sided, from Harry, and shows no sign of ending until he is either defeated or he achieves his goal of being The Prince of Wales (and, eventually, King).

Card Four: The Two of Wands in reverse

The Two of Wands is a card about planning, making plans. When it is in the reverse, those plans are not happening. The energy of this card is of plans that The King has, and wants to carry through, that are now impossible to implement because of the rift between his two sons. As for what those plans are - the Two of Wands can be a card of leaving home. The picture on the card shows a red haired man, Jason, who for me symbolises Harry, standing outside the cave of Chiron, which for me represents the BRF. In the upright, Harry has left the BRF - he is outside the family. In the reverse, as we have here, this situation is undone and Harry is returned to his family. For me, this seems to indicate that King Charles has plans to return Harry to the bosom of the BRF and that those plans are impossible to implement while there is antagonism between Harry and Prince William.

Card Five: The Ten of Cups in reverse.

The Ten of Cups is the happy family card, the card of emotional contentment. This can be a real state or, occasionally, it can be an illusion - looking at something through rose coloured glasses.

In the reverse, this state of a happy family, real or illusionary, is not happening. There is no harmony in the family, and instead the family is full of conflict. This is the reality that for whatever reason The King is refusing to face. He is trying to create this illusion/reality of a happy family and he is not facing the fact that the actions of his younger son have irrevocably shattered that happy family image and it can not be brought back.

This card tell me that the reconciliation that the King wants will not happen. The family will not be reunited and the the conflicts and competition of the Five of Wands card will continue.

This card shows a wedding on Mount Olympus, the home of the gods, which represents a royal wedding. The energy from the reversed card is almost as if King Charles does not want to admit that Harry and Meghan's royal wedding was a mistake? He doesn't want to see his son in a broken marriage or admit that his son has a broken marriage? I can't quite make the energy out - maybe sympathy for Harry in his marriage? Or The King thinks that if Harry is separated from Meghan, then everything will go back to being OK between him and Meghan (the Five of Wands tells me this is not the case and that at this point in time Harry will continue his one sided competition with his brother with or without his wife).

If Harry and Meghan do separate, then I feel that King Charles will blame everything on Meghan and say everything is her fault, and that is not what happened.

Underlying Energy: The Hanged Man

The Hanged Man is a card of inaction, of contemplation, of seeing things from a new perspective, which fits in with the energy of The World card of King Charles reviewing his life. It is also the card of sacrifice, of having to make a sacrifice or be a sacrifice, which for me resonates with his wish that his son 'sacrifice' (ignore) his hurt and the effects of his brother's attacks on his family, and make up with his brother who is continually attacking him. Finally, the Hanged Man is the card for Neptune, the planet of illusion and delusion (among other things), which tells me that The King's wish for reconciliation between his sons is an illusion that is not happening.

The Hanged Man is a card of inaction, and that is The King's position here. He can not take action and force his sons to reconcile, instead he should sit back and let them play this out between themselves instead of trying to force them together in the name of brotherly love. The Hanged Man's inaction sometimes brings a new perspective on things. It might be time for King Charles to find a different way of looking at the situation between his sons and how he would like that to be resolved.

Conclusion:

The King does want his sons to reconcile. His sons' fighting is causing him a great deal of stress and anxiety. Having them reconcile would remove that stress. He appears to have been thinking over his life and he seems to feel that the actions of his sons reflect on him and are a failure on his part. Removing the conflict would fix that failure, remove the stress that is caused by Harry's actions, and bring the conclusion that he appears to want - a happy family.

Unfortunately, Harry is attacking Prince William with a set goal in mind - to steal his brother's treasure/become The Prince of Wales - and he is unlikely to stop until this goal is achieved. The competition is all one sided, it stems from Harry and Harry alone, and for this reason it is unlikely to stop until Harry lets go of his need to be better than his brother (which in my opinion will only happen after a lot of reputable therapy, if at all). Until Harry changes, the King's wishes for a reconciliation and a happy family are going to remain a rose coloured illusion.

The King has plans that he wants to implement, plans that appear to involve having Harry returned to his family, and these plans can not be implemented with the situation between the brothers as it is. This is another reason he wants his sons to reconcile - so he can move forward with those plans.

The message from the cards is for King Charles to spend more time thinking about this situation so that he can see it from a different perspective and stop pressuring one son to sacrifice himself, his principles, and his family, for the sake of his rose coloured illusion of a peaceful life surrounded by a happy family.

[starlightshadowsworld]

I know that it is a joke when I see the Fyolai (Fyodor and Nikolai) as Atsushi's parents.

However, if Atsushi was related in some way to Fyodor either immediately or distantly. It would answer some questions.

Why Fyodor knew about him being the guide to the book. How he knew to send Shibusawa to that particular Orphanage to find Atsushi.

Why Fyodor knew about Atsushi's ability at all. Why Fitzgerald knows about Atsushi's parents and how they treated him. Why Atsushi was sent to an orphanage with religious symbolism.

Hell he might not even be related to Atsushi, but have bodyswapped with someone who is related to Atsushi.

Such as pulling a similar stunt to what happened with Kyouka's parents. Creating the circumstances for Atsushi to be transferred the tigers ability.

Bodyswapping could explain why Atsushi hasn't recognised his name or made a comment about knowing who he is.

Although as far as we know Atsushi doesn't know what Fyodor looks like. Given he's never interacted with him.

But why keep Atsushi in an orphanage, this one specifically?Possibly to feed a hatred of abilities in Atsushi.

From 55 minutes we know Atsushi's ability to negate wounds is "not unrelated to my upbringing." Perhaps its something Fyodor wanted him to develop and thus kept him in here.

And maybe even break Atsushi down to accept help from anyone showing kindness to him. To make him into a worthy pawn when the time Fyodor sees as right.

This isn't something I truly believe in and there's definitely be a lot of questions this would bring.

But... Some things would make sense. Whatever the reason, Fyodor and Atsushi are connected in some way.

... Makes you wonder where exactly Fyodor is now?

Because he's been trying to capture Atsushi since the series began. And even as recently as the 5th season, with Hawthorn going after Atsushi.

His plan has both failed, for now but there's another one in the works... And we don't know what or where he is.

Just saying, last time we saw Dazai this panicked was when he realised Q was going after Atsushi.

#bsd fyodor #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bsd atsushi #atsushi nakajima #bsd 114 spoilers #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd manga #bsd manga spoilers

[sleepyghostuwu]

The Artist and the Gem: Part 2

"...this'd better be a dream right now."

Synopsis: You start brainstorming about your mysterious client's request and begin working on it. Unfortunately, that means finding a way to get your unconventional art subject to cooperate with you, whether or not he knows about it.

Notes: Fem! Reader POV will be used in this series as it is what I'm most comfy writing in ^^ Also it's really lengthy lmao (I got too excited writing this) so get ready for lots of reading-

Previously: Part 1

It has been a good number of months since you've received the mysterious client's commission.

You've been finding yourself becoming increasingly productive in both your white collar and artistic jobs, presumably from wanting to rid yourself of as much work as you could to work on Aventurine's portrait. It has gotten to the point you even managed to send out most of your commissions to your other clients, even the impatient one who had been living on your nerves for what felt like an eternity. What made you want to get his portrait done and over with so badly? That was a question you were too afraid to find answers to.

Speaking of Aventurine, you had a problem: you know how he looks like very well, but you have no clue how to draw him that well. The fact that the both of you work in different departments and hence very rarely see each other made your task of observing his appearance better all the more difficult.

With all possible odds pitted against you, only two solutions remain: you could either spy on Aventurine during your lunch and tea breaks and sketch him in secret, or directly ask him to pose for you for a few minutes. Given your current ranking in the IPC, you have a slightly better chance at the former. As the clock strikes at lunchtime, you quickly grab your tablet and head for the first place you can think of: the lounge.

-------

"...Don't worry, I'll be sure to send you the updates as soon as I get them," Aventurine's carefree voice echoes like a chime as he and the other Stonehearts leave the meeting room for their break. Your breath hitches and you quickly crouch behind the nearest potted plant you spotted in the vicinity, peeking through its leaves cautiously.

"This is the worst idea I've ever thought of..." you curse under your breath as you stabilised yourself against the wall. You have passed by Aventurine during work before on several occasions, and rarely ever get to briefly speak to him about work-related matters, so seeing the man himself with your eyes was not something unfamiliar to you. However, what left you the slightest bit horrified was the next thought that entered your mind.

Aventurine is stunningly handsome.

His sandy hair, which was slightly tucked behind his left ear, flowed down his neck like sand in an hourglass, and his eyes were as vibrant as stained glass windows in the sun. The deep green and gold coattails trailing behind him reminded you of a brightly coloured bird as he strode across the hallway, always seeming like he had people to show off to in every corner.

(Y/n)! Focus! You frantically shake your thoughts out of your hand and ready your tablet. It's your only chance at this, so don't mess this up! Propping yourself against the wall as you continue crouching behind the potted plant, you whip out your stylus and begin drawing furiously.

The first few attempts you made were a little sloppy (by your standards, at least), but in a short while, you manage to fill the better half of your drawing spread with surprisingly good sketches. The fact that Aventurine was perfectly still as you drew each pose made your success feel too good to be true. As you watch Aventurine leave the vicinity with a few cups of coffee in hand, you heave a sigh of relief and stood up, propping yourself against the wall as you wait for your legs to recover from crouching on the ground for so long.

And it's still lunch hour, too! You smile to yourself as you turn to leave for the office cafe. Everything went according to plan. Surely nothing could possibly go wrong after this-

"Oh, (y/n)? I didn't expect to see you here."

A chill runs down your spine as you slowly come face-to-face with none other than Aventurine himself.

#honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine #hsr #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr fanfic #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader

[rosedark88]

My Opinion On Why Sam gets more hate & his mistakes gets highlighted more than Dean..

The quick answer is that the audience react based on the characters reactions, and the Show is told from Dean’s POV.

The long answer: During 15 seasons, How many times did Sam actually say hurtful things to Dean? Aside from season 9 i cant think of any. Even when Dean has done questionable things like killing Amy and lying about- all Sam did is ask for space, and even when he was pushed for a confrontation by Dean.. all he said was u lied to me.

Sam is always very careful using his words around his big brother, he almost never lashes out at him, if he did it means things have gone dark. Sam never ever reminds Dean of his past mistakes—and i hope no one says that Dean never made mistakes—Even when Dean says hurtful things to Sam, he mostly just skip it, and when Dean tries to apologise to Sam, he tells him he doesn’t need to.

And if u need a reminder on Dean greatest hits:

S4 Dean: “ If I didn't know you, I would want to hunt you”

S5 Dean: “I don’t know whether it’s gonna be demon blood or some other demon chick or what, but…I do know they're gonna find a way to turn you”

Dean after getting the gentle sweet treatment 99% of the times from his baby brother, the 1% he doesn’t get it, he acts like a kicked dog, and he cant and wont ever move on.. i am glad we had Bobby in the earlier seasons calling Dean out on that by saying “ i am sorry ur feelings are hurt princess “

Dean actually always goes out of his way to take whatever Sam says in the worst way possible. Like clearly in S9 the point of conflict that Sam didn’t want to be possessed, and he wont do it to Dean if the situation reversed. But Dean took as, oh “ you are not going to save me…” actually its Dean own insecurities, and his own self hatred that wanted him to believe that Sam doesn’t love as much, as he loves him.

And even when Sam back tracked what he said in the final and worked an entire season trying to save Dean even intimidating a human into making a deal. Still Dean had to remind him again of what he said, a sign that he didn’t move on. So of course the audience didn’t.

Didn’t Dean tell Sam he should have died instead of Charlie! Did he backtrack that? Even apologised ? No to both, and almost everyone forgot about that because Sam did——and plz no one says it was the mark of cain talking, because i dont see Sam getting a free pass with demon blood—-

I don’t judge the guys for this dynamic. I think Sam is willing to forgive his brother because he owes him so much, because Dean has been taking care of him his whole life. Dean choose to be a good older brother and NOT mirror his father awfulness, so he earned his place in Sam’s life.

However i wish the show fans see the two sides, not only Dean POV.

#supernatural #sam and dean #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn meta #spn analysis #classic spn #samdean #deansam #the winchester brothers #Roseanalysis

[sweetteaanddragons]

Snippet from "Raise Them Well" Alt. PoV

Having trouble writing this one, so I hoped posting this would help inspire more.

Link to the original story here.

. . .

Tyelkormo was not much of one for drawing, but when he could be coaxed into artistic endeavors, he had a gift for capturing animals mid-motion. Anything stationary had a tendency to be rendered in a few careless strokes, too uninteresting to bother with details.

His latest efforts were stacked on hanno’s desk, intermingled with scraps of Makalaure’s latest songs. Nolofinwe had been straightening them compulsively for the last five minutes; it was easier than looking at Maitimo and seeing his own reflection in his brother-cousin’s eyes.

“Do you remember that picture of my mother I drew for Uncle Ingwion? I wanted to draw yours too, so I asked hanno for her hair color.”

He’d had rather confused ideas on how exactly motherhood worked at the time. It was only then that he’d fully comprehended that death was an aberration, not a prerequisite.

“I remember.” Maitimo’s voice was cautious from its place by the doorway he was still so carefully not-guarding.

They were not, technically, supposed to be in here alone. But no one would care too badly, and it was a day for doing not-quite things.

He would rather be in a courtyard, working through the patterns of his sword, but the halls were so crowded with people rushing, gossiping, preparing, and this had been the first room Maitimo could drag him to that they could trust to be empty of people who would wonder at the shaking of Nolofinwe’s hands.

“I remember Amil talked to us both after,” Maitimo added when Nolofinwe didn’t continue. “So we’d know what had really happened and wouldn’t have to hear it from rumors.”

There was an unspoken question in the way he said rumors: What have you heard? Is this what’s bothering you?

They had always heard rumors. That the old king had been cursed; that it was all Nolofinwe’s fault, all hanno’s fault, all the Valar’s fault, all - 

Always rumors.

“And then hanno came and got you for a lesson,” Nolofinwe said, “and she asked me if I had any questions.” He had not shared this part before. “I asked if it was true that not all of the dead could come back.”

They both knew the answer to that question, though Maitimo had not been there when Nolofinwe had first learned it, and Nolo had never spoken of it since.

“When she said it was, I said that I thought Atar should be the one to stay. That it seemed most fair.”

The word Atar felt awkward on his tongue. He pushed through it, forcing the syllables through; it didn’t matter if he could say it right, as long as he could say it with confidence; they both knew that lesson well enough. 

He would have to get used to the word. Best to practice now.

Especially when it would make it easier not to think of the rest of what he had confessed.

“It didn’t seem right for me to get my mother back, and hanno not to get his,” he said with a lightness he did not feel at all. “I thought we could both have a mother and be missing a father and that would be fair.” Not perfect, but fair, with a childish logic entirely centered on the feelings of those he knew and not on the desires of the people whose names he had most often heard in whispers.

It had suited him, selfishly, because he had not had a mother. He’d had ressë  - holding him, singing to him, helping mold clay into little pots until he tired of the art - but she could not cradle his fea as his mother would have.

As his brother had.

As a child he’d been able to picture how his mother could be added into their circle, nothing lost. But a father -

If the king - his father returned, things would change.

He had known, even then, it was a dangerous thing to say.

"And so perhaps it shall be,” Nerdanel had said. “But it hurts people to speak of it too much, and there is no use worrying over it yet; it shall yet be many long years until anything is decided.”

“I thought it would take longer,” he said, at last setting down the much abused papers with far too much force. He knew it must sound abrupt to Maitimo; he didn’t care. “So many others take longer.”

He looked at Maitimo, finally, and saw just what he should have expected; Maitimo leaning against the bar set across the door, unfairly tall and uncommonly worried, and trying with his slumped posture against the wood to deny both.

Still listening. Always listening until he knew just what word to use to strike.

“I thought I would have a chance to - “ He made a confused, too violent gesture, but Maitimo would know what he meant. He always knew what he meant.

He had grown up knowing he had killed his mother, but that it had not been his fault. Nerdanel had made sure he knew it was not his fault. How could you blame a baby for anything?

But it was his fault, even though he had not killed her. It was his fault because he would be dangerous to Melkor, and Melkor knew it.

He had thought he would have a chance to prove that danger. That Melkor had been right to fear him.

He had thought that when she emerged, he could stand before her and say, I avenged you, Amil. I was worth it.

“I know,” Maitimo said because he could keep no secrets from Maitimo, not really. “Maybe this way’s better. If she’s anything like the rest of us, she won’t just want to have heard you’ve done it; she’ll want to help.”

The words had just a hint of warning to them.

You promised, Nolo. Don’t you dare go running off alone. We do it together, or not at all.

It was how they did everything, of course. The only way. So he let out the rest of his tension with a long breath and bumped Maitimo’s shoulder in apology on his way to the barred door.

“Ready?” Maitimo murmured. 

By the time they slipped back to the rush of the corridor, both their faces were bright and pleased with the news of the royal couple’s return once more.

#silmarillion #maedhros #nolofinwe #raise them well or out of spite #feanor raises his half-brother au

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nineteen [fin]

🐴Chapter summary: Your sister and Jungkook arrives home from their honeymoon with exciting news. You and Jimin just can’t wait to marry each other, and when you finally get to, it’s like your soul has come home.

🐴Chapter title: Home

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: can you hear the wedding bells???? 💒 there’s fluff, so much kissing, so much love, explicit smut in the form of unprotected sex (slight impreg kink), oral (female and male), hair pulling, use of a degrading name (he calls her nasty a few times, but that’s it), dirty/sweet talk, praise kink, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, biting, exhibitionism (it’s not MC and Jimin this time, lol), there’s also a pregnancy. The smut is just nasty and dirty, but also very sweet and intimate (a lot of bodily fluids 🫣).

🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!)

🐴Word count: 18.2k (I’m so sorry, I got very emotional 😭)

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “My Heart’s Home (Drover’s Run)” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: wow. Okay 😭 I feel very emotional with this chapter. It’s a chapter that I have looked forward to writing for many months, since I outlined the whole story, and it’s sweet, it’s cute, it’s romantic!!!! Don’t come @ me, this is a romance story at its core 😭 I just feel sad that it’s ending now, because I truly love these characters so much and it has been so much fun putting them (and you, sorry) through hell and back. These characters will always have a special place in my heart, it’s sorta like with my characters from ‘Friendcation’ 🥹 Anyway, I’m rambling again— I just wanted to take some time to thank each and every one of you, both here on tumblr and on AO3. So many people, regulars even, have commented and engaged with me and this story and fucking shit, it makes me cry with happiness that some people actually like or even love this story 😭 I honestly never thought anyone would, when I outlined it, so it makes me so happy that someone out there loves this like I do. Thank you. Truly. I don’t have enough words to express how grateful I am to you 💖 This is actually the last ‘official’ chapter, so this is actually the end of the story. I’m going to write an extra chapter for you guys— chapter 20, but it will be an epilogue/Q&A thing where you can read what happens with the characters in like a year after the story has ended. There will also be answers to some of the questions you’ve sent in over time, so please look forward to it when it comes out some time soon 🫰

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜

** this is the last call to send in asks that will feature in the epilogue. You’re still very welcome to send questions after, I’ll still answer future asks and comments! Thank you!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next (epilogue) (tba) →

“The eyes of a childSee a long long waySee the future see the pastThey see everything first and last I was that childWho rode these hillsIn my dreams I see the starsIn my dreams I always will Ride these hillsSee in the morningI’ll hear the rain on the shedBut other stars and other sunsets will hang above my headThere will be different places different peopleBut I’ll still be the same” ‘My Heart’s Home (Drover’s Run)’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Jungkook’s black truck remains absent from the yard for two long weeks, and anticipation builds within you for his return alongside your sister from their honeymoon. The longing to reunite with them intensifies with each passing day, driven by a dual desire: one, the longing for their presence, and the other, an eagerness to share your plans to move in with Jimin, a significant step forward in your life that you’re bursting to reveal to them both.

As you gaze out of the living room windows, the glow of the television casting flickering shadows across the room, the familiar roar of an engine reaches your ears, a sound that ignites a spark of excitement within you. With a surge of anticipation, you leap up from the couch, the rhythm of your heartbeat quickening with a mixture of affection and giddiness at the thought of their imminent arrival.

“Jimin, they’re finally back!” Your voice rings out, echoing through the house as you dash through its corridors and burst out into the yard, your excitement palpable in every step. Behind you, Jimin trails closely, his presence adding to the anticipation as he follows from the kitchen, eager to join in the long-awaited reunion.

With an almost reckless abandon, you swing the door open, the anticipation too overwhelming to contain. You and Jimin rush outside, your steps quickening with each heartbeat, until your eyes land on the driveway, where, as expected, the familiar silhouette of the black truck awaits, a beacon of their return and the promise of reconnection.

You’re overcome with a childlike excitement, your heart racing with anticipation akin to a kid on Christmas morning, as you eagerly watch the truck draw nearer, each moment filled with the promise of joy and reunion. Your eyes lock onto the familiar sight of it parking next to Jimin’s blue truck.

With bated breath and a heart brimming with anticipation, you eagerly observe as the truck’s engine fades into silence, and the doors swing open, revealing the figures you’ve been yearning to see: your sister and Jungkook.

Every second is precious as you dash towards your sister, your steps propelled by a surge of longing and affection. You collide with her in a heartfelt embrace, the warmth of reunion enveloping you both as you murmur, “I missed you,” the words laden with the weight of your longing and love.

“Hi,” your sister’s voice emerges slightly strained by the force of your hug, yet filled with the warmth of genuine affection. As you envelop her in your embrace, you draw her closer, reveling in the familiarity of her natural scent, a comforting reminder of the bond that binds you together.

Jungkook stands beside her, his face radiating joy as he juggles two bags, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. After exchanging warm greetings with your sister, you turn your attention to him, enveloping him in a tight embrace, the warmth of your reunion filling the air with a palpable sense of belonging.

Jimin joins you, stepping up beside you with a warm smile as he extends his greetings to your sister and his brother, his smile genuine and welcoming, mirroring the happiness that fills the air.

“Did you have an amazing honeymoon?” You inquire, granting them a moment of privacy as you observe their radiant faces. The subtle sun-kissed glow on their skin sparks curiosity within you, prompting thoughts of the exotic destinations they might have explored during their time away.

“It was so wonderful,” your sister shares, her smile radiant as she recalls their time away. Her eyes sparkle with the memories of relaxation and adventure.

Jungkook releases one of the bags and sweeps a hand through his tousled black hair, a contented smile gracing his lips. “It truly was,” he affirms, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia as he reminisces about the cherished moments shared with your sister.

“Where did you go?” Your curiosity brims over, unable to contain your eagerness any longer as you hang on the edge of anticipation, craving to unravel the mystery of their honeymoon destination.

“We traveled to a tropical island,” your sister reveals, her voice laced with a soft smile that speaks volumes of the cherished moments they shared. In the glint of her eyes, you catch a glimpse of the love and sweet memories woven into every moment of their adventure.

“That sounds so lovely. You can tell us more about it inside, Jimin has made breakfast,” you exclaim with a warm smile, nodding towards the house where Jimin has prepared a meal. With a shared sense of excitement, you and Jimin assist them with their luggage, eagerly ushering them back into the cozy embrace of home.

Inside, you carefully set their bags down in the hallway before kicking off your boots, the anticipation of the delicious breakfast Jimin prepared propelling you into the kitchen. Together, you assist each other in carrying the aromatic dishes to the dining room, where you swiftly set the table and pull out chairs, eager to indulge in the meal. As you all settle in and begin to eat, a serene silence envelops the room, broken only by the rhythmic clinking of utensils against plates.

As you steal glances at Jimin, your heart swells with affection, his presence a constant source of comfort and joy. Turning your gaze to your sister and Jungkook, their happiness radiates, igniting a flutter in your chest as you bask in the warmth of their contentment, a tangible reminder of the bonds that bind you all together.

“I’m dying to know, what were your favorite island adventures? Just spare me the details about how much you fucked,” you jest with a chuckle, pushing your empty plate aside. As you watch them, grinning like lovesick fools, you can’t help but feel a pang of envy mixed with genuine happiness for their shared bliss.

“We mainly just relaxed on the beach, and Kookie ate a lot of food,” your sister laughs, her joy infectious as her smile reaches all the way to her eyes, reflecting the carefree happiness of their tropical escape.

“We also went swimming in crystal clear water and hiked in nature, but that’s about it,”Jungkook chimes in with a grin, punctuating his words with a refreshing sip of water. His smile holds a trace of the exhilaration experienced amidst nature’s embrace.

“How have you guys been? Was it easy to manage both ranches?” Your sister’s voice brims with genuine curiosity and delight, her eagerness to catch up evident in the lilt of her tone.

“Yeah, it was manageable, especially with all the support we had,” you affirm with a nod. “But there’s something important we’ve been meaning to discuss with you,” you continue, your gaze drifting to the table below as a hint of nervousness tingles through your veins. It's a strange sensation, considering your eagerness to share the news and hear their thoughts on the matter, as well as their own plans for the future.

Your sister’s initial surprise doesn’t go unnoticed, but before she can voice her thoughts, you interject gently, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad.” With a reassuring smile, you gather your courage to continue, “Jimin and I have been talking, and we’ve decided that we want to take the next step in our relationship. We want to move in together, right here, at Bell Ranch.”

Your heart races in anticipation as you lock eyes with both Jungkook and your sister, the weight of your announcement settling heavily in the air. Sensing your nerves, Jimin’s hand seeks yours, offering a reassuring squeeze that anchors you in the moment, a silent reminder of his unwavering support and love.

Both Jungkook and your sister share a knowing chuckle, their eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and playful mischief, as if they’ve already anticipated this moment and are delighted by your decision.

“That sounds amazing. You should absolutely go for it,” Jungkook beams, his voice laced with genuine happiness. “In fact, we’ve been meaning to discuss something similar with you,” he reveals, his words tinged with excitement.

You raise a quizzical eyebrow, your curiosity piqued by Jungkook’s cryptic statement.

Your sister leans closer to Jungkook, their connection palpable as she intertwines her fingers with his over the table, a radiant smile gracing her lips. “We’ve been thinking about it for a while,” she reveals, her voice filled with excitement. “We want to take the next step too, move in together. At Bora Ranch.”

Laughter erupts around the table, filling the room with infectious joy until tears well up in your eyes—tears of pure, unadulterated happiness that overflow with the overwhelming love that you feel in your chest.

“That’s absolutely perfect,” Jimin’s smile widens, his touch gentle as he runs his fingers tenderly over your arm, his eyes alight with a warmth that mirrors the sentiment shared among all of you.

“We just need to move our stuff then,” you say with a smile, turning to Jimin and pressing a kiss to his lips. The news of your sister and Jungkook’s plans fills you with a sense of relief, especially since Bora Ranch no longer feels like home, not after the fire. In that moment, as you embrace Jimin, you realize where exactly home is for you, and honestly you’ve known for a while now, and it’s not a place—it’s wherever he is.

“Absolutely, let’s make it happen in the next couple of days,” your sister exclaims with a radiant smile, enveloping Jungkook in a tight embrace as if to solidify their excitement and determination.

“Let’s make it a team effort,” you suggest with a warm smile, leaning your head against Jimin’s shoulder for support. The idea of everyone pitching in to help each other move fills you with a sense of love and familiarity.

A brief, serene moment hangs in the air as you all bask in the warmth of love and excitement. However, as your sister and Jungkook exchange hesitant glances, a sense of anticipation hangs in the air, as though they are on the brink of revealing something significant yet are unsure of how to broach the topic.

“What’s on your minds?” You inquire, a note of concern creeping into your voice as their prolonged silence becomes increasingly conspicuous. Their lingering gazes, fraught with unspoken tension, only serve to heighten your curiosity, compelling you to seek answers to the unspoken questions hanging in the air.

Your sister straightens her posture, a flicker of nervousness dancing in her eyes, though they still sparkle with underlying happiness. Meanwhile, Jungkook’s smile broadens, his eyes shimmering with affection as he tenderly squeezes your sister’s hand.

Your sister draws in a deep, steadying breath, her smile revealing a mix of nervousness and unbridled joy. “Here’s the thing,” she begins, her voice quivering with anticipation. “You’re about to become an uncle and aunt,” she announces, the words tinged with the excitement of impending parenthood, setting the room abuzz with anticipation and elation.

Your eyes widen in realization, the weight of your sister’s words sinking in as your heart swells with overwhelming love. Emotions surge within you, threatening to spill over as tears well up once more, their intensity hitting you with a heavy force. Glancing at Jimin, you find his expression mirroring your own astonishment, his happiness palpable as he shares in the joyous revelation.

Your voice trembles, tears pooling in your eyes as you lean forward over the table, barely able to contain the flood of emotions welling up inside you. “Are you... pregnant?” You manage to whisper, the words laden with anticipation and a surge of overwhelming emotion.

Jungkook’s grin stretches so fucking wide, you fear his face might split in two, his infectious joy radiating throughout the room. Your sister nods, her smile beaming with happiness, though her eyes glisten with tears yet to fall.

“I am,” she confirms, her voice ringing with both certainty and a hint of wonder, as if she’s still coming to terms with the beautiful reality of impending motherhood.

Jimin envelops you in a tight embrace, his arms a comforting sanctuary as tears cascade down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the overwhelming rush of emotions coursing through you. The damp trails mark your shirt, but in this moment, you couldn’t care less about the stains. Amidst the tears, you’re consumed by an indescribable sense of happiness and boundless love, knowing that you’re surrounded by those who cherish you unconditionally.

“No, why are you crying?” Your sister asks, her voice catching with emotion, tears mirroring your own as they trickle down her cheeks. 

“I’m just overwhelmed with happiness for you guys, congratulations,” you beam, feeling a swell of joyous emotions engulfing your chest. “These tears are pure happiness,” you add, your smile radiant and genuine, as you revel in the shared joy and anticipation of the precious new life joining your family.

Jimin’s embrace tightens, his affection palpable as he presses a tender kiss to your cheek, his silent gesture speaking volumes of his love and support in this moment of shared happiness.

“We found out during our honeymoon, and we just couldn’t wait to tell you,” Jungkook’s voice brims with pride and happiness, his words resonating with the excitement of this newfound journey into parenthood.

“I couldn’t be happier for you both, congratulations,” Jimin’s voice quivers with emotion, mirroring the heartfelt sentiment that permeates the room. In this moment, it’s evident that the overwhelming flood of happiness is shared by all, binding you together in celebration of this joyous news.

You nestle closer into Jimin’s embrace, thoughts swirling in your mind like autumn leaves in the wind. You’re aware of his desire for children, a notion that’s taken root in your own heart, especially after everything with Deiji. The idea of parenthood with Jimin fills you with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. You want to witness him step into the role of fatherhood, yet you grapple with your own insecurities about becoming a mother.

Despite these apprehensions, you sense a growing readiness within yourself, a quiet confidence that whispers of your eventual readiness for motherhood when the time is right. And now, with the news of your impending aunt-hood, you’re struck with the realization that this journey alongside your sister’s impending motherhood might just serve as the perfect trial run.

Though the child won’t be your own, you’re eager to observe, to support, and to glean insight into the complexities of parenthood. It’s a chance to test the waters, to discover if children truly fit into the tapestry of your future dreams and aspirations.

“I’m going to be an aunt,” you announce proudly, your voice catching with tears and overwhelming emotion. Jimin enfolds you in his embrace again, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the whirlwind of feelings. With each reassuring squeeze, he reminds you of the unwavering support and love he always provides, grounding you in his steadfast embrace.

“This thing’s a beast!” Yoongi grunts, his voice strained with exertion as he joins Jungkook in lifting the hefty dresser from his room. 

As they maneuver the bulky dresser down the stairs, Jungkook’s laughter fills the air, a lighthearted counterpoint to the laborious task at hand. While the rest of you have pitched in by packing his belongings, your sister watches eagerly, her desire to help palpable. However, Jungkook remains adamant, refusing to let her lift even a finger, his protectiveness extending to the safety of their unborn child. You can’t suppress a chuckle at the sight, finding it both endearing and slightly excessive given her early stage of pregnancy. You wonder if Jungkook will extend his cautious approach to other activities, maybe even her beloved horseback riding.

In no time, you’ve managed to load Jungkook’s belongings onto the trucks and horse trailer. As you survey the now empty room, save for his bed, a pang of nostalgia washes over you. The stripped-down space feels oddly unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the warmth and personality it once exuded.

With the trailer securely locked, you step outside, relishing the fresh air after the exertion of heavy lifting. Taehyung’s smile beams at the group.

“Now that Jungkook is moving out, can I get his room?” Taehyung’s inquiry is met with a wide grin, his eyes alight with anticipation as he eagerly awaits your and Jimin’s response.

“Do you really want to sleep in that bed? You know they’ve had sex on it a lot,” Jimin jests, a playful grin dancing across his lips. Jungkook simply shrugs, his own smile acknowledging the undeniable truth in his brother’s jest.

Taehyung groans audibly, his frustration evident in the tone as if he’s contemplating a drastic measure like clawing his own eyes out. “I know,” he concedes, his voice laced with determination. “But trust me, once I’m through with it, that bed will be practically brand new. Fresh sheets and a thorough deep clean— it’ll be like sleeping on a cloud.”

A chuckle escapes you involuntarily. Taehyung’s innocence is endearing, prompting a gentle giggle to bubble forth. “I don’t mind you living with us,” you admit with a warm smile. “But the final say rests with Jimin,” you tease lightly, casting a playful glance in Jimin’s direction.

Turning to Jimin with an eager glint in his eyes, Taehyung poses the question, “Can I live with you guys?”

Jimin’s grin widens, radiating warmth as he responds, “Sure. As long as you don’t mind the occasional noises.”

Taehyung emits another groan, his tone tinged with humor. “As long as I’m not witnessing any reenactments of last time, I’m all in,” he quips with a playful eye roll.

Jungkook halts abruptly, his hand hovering over the truck door handle, his curiosity piqued. He strides over to you with purpose, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue. “What’s this about reenactments?” He inquires, his gaze flickering between you and Taehyung.

Your sister sidles up beside you, her curiosity evident, and you can’t help but offer a subtle eye roll, already anticipating the impending discussion with a mix of reluctance and amusement.

“Yoongi and I walked in on them doing it on the couch,” Taehyung utters with a deep groan, his hand instinctively covering his eyes as if attempting to shield himself from the memory once more.

Jungkook erupts into laughter, giving Taehyung an affectionate pat on the back. “I’m sorry, but let’s face it, we’re all a bit... horny around here. Can’t say you should be too surprised to catch an eyeful or an earful now and then,” he quips with a grin, breaking the tension with humor.

Taehyung lets out an exasperated huff. “I still believe intimacy should stay behind closed doors. You guys are some serious exhibitionists,” he retorts, shaking his head in disbelief.

Laughter erupts among the group, but amidst the mirth, Taehyung’s observation strikes a chord. While you don’t relish being watched, there’s a truth to his words. You and Jimin have a knack for choosing semi-public settings, a fact you’re now forced to confront.

As you pile into the trucks and embark on the journey to Bora Ranch with Jungkook’s furniture in tow, the anticipation of a new chapter fills the air. Upon arrival, a collaborative effort ensues as everyone pitches in to unload his belongings. Once completed, it’s your turn to pack your own possessions for the move.

As you gather your belongings, you find yourself with mostly pre-packed bags and suitcases filled with clothes and the few remnants of decor salvaged after the fire. Among them are the cherished photos Jimin gave you, snapshots of your childhood that hold precious memories. Opting to leave your bed behind, you realize it’s a symbolic gesture as you prepare to share Jimin’s bed permanently, marking a new chapter in your lives together.

“She doesn’t have as much stuff as Jungkook,” Taehyung remarks, gesturing toward your modest collection of bags. It’s true; compared to Jungkook’s substantial furniture, your belongings seem minimal. But within those bags lie not just clothes and essentials, but memories and hopes for the future, making them weightier than they appear.

“I’ve been thinking,” you start, sweeping your hand around the room, still filled with furniture you got after the fire, “and I don’t feel any connection to this new stuff. It’s like it’s just here, not really a part of me. I’d rather start fresh with Jimin, with pieces that mean something to both of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says, his tone tinged with understanding, though you’re not sure why he’s apologizing. Maybe it’s just the acknowledgment that things have shifted, that change is inevitable. Like the seasons, feelings change with time, and you’ve come to accept it. This ranch will always hold a special place in your heart, it’s the first place you called home, but you’re eager to forge a new path with Jimin— to create a home that’s uniquely yours.

“It’s okay. I’m excited about living with Jimin, and now having you as a roommate,” you say warmly, enveloping Taehyung in a hug, a genuine smile playing on your lips.

“I gotta ask you something. You’re not a screamer, are you?” He asks, a hint of apprehension in his voice, his expression betraying his worry.

You chuckle, teasingly responding, “Well, I guess you’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

He groans dramatically, adding, “I might reconsider moving in and just staying in the guest cottage.”

Jimin’s laughter fills the room as he playfully adds, “That’s up to you.”

As you descend with your bags, Hoseok and Yoongi join in, shouldering your easel and paintings, a colorful procession of creativity weaving its way to the waiting trucks.

“Do you paint?” Taehyung asks, his curiosity piqued as he catches sight of your easel being carefully loaded into the truck. 

“Yeah, it’s my work,” you respond with a proud laugh, a touch of confidence in your voice. The smile on your face reflects the satisfaction and joy you find in your art.

“Wow, that’s amazing! I had no idea,” Taehyung exclaims, his enthusiasm clear as he grins at you. “We’ll definitely have to chat more about it—I’d love some tips! Painting’s a passion of mine too.” His excitement is infectious, prompting you to smile back and nod in agreement, already imagining the creative conversations and shared insights to come.

“I’m going to fetch Mikrokosmos,” you announce with a smile, making your way to the stables to retrieve your horse. As you greet her in her stall, she nuzzles you affectionately, sensing the journey ahead. You lead her out with her halter, guiding her down the yard toward the waiting horse trailer. Mikrokosmos steps in without hesitation, a testament to her trust in you. You secure her safely with a quick safety knot on her halter, ensuring she’s comfortable for the ride.

Once again, you all pile into the trucks and make your way back to Bell Ranch with your belongings in tow. The journey is filled with a sense of camaraderie, and upon arrival, your friends and family pitch in to help you unload. 

You carefully guide Mikrokosmos out of the trailer and lead her into one of the paddocks next to the stables. Once inside, you release her, watching as she eagerly trots away, basking in the freedom of the open space. 

As you take in the serene scene, you catch sight of Yoongi and Hoseok making their way inside to grab some cold beers. As the work wraps up, the sky is painted with hues of twilight, and the sun dips below the horizon.

Jimin, ever the gracious host, fires up the grill, the sizzle of the barbecue adding to the evening’s ambiance. The inviting aroma of grilling food wafts through the air, promising a satisfying meal to cap off the day. The scene feels like the perfect conclusion to a day of teamwork and togetherness, as you all prepare to share a delicious dinner under the night sky.

Jungkook joins his brother at the grill, their teamwork evident as they skillfully tend to the sizzling meat and vibrant grilled vegetables. When you return to the porch, the savory aroma envelops you, the smoky scent of the food teasing your senses and making your mouth water in anticipation of the feast to come.

Jimin sets a relaxing ambiance by playing soft music on the speakers, the melodic tunes complementing the twinkling stars overhead. This serene setting envelops you in a sense of comfort, surrounded by love and the warmth of friendship and family. As Jimin serves everyone food, you settle in to eat, savoring the delicious meal while sipping on a cold beer and refreshing water. 

Yoongi breaks the serene silence with a knowing smile and a playful glint in his eyes, asking, “So, how’s married life treating you?”

Jungkook chuckles, a playful tone in his voice. “It’s pretty much like ‘regular’ life,” he remarks, using air quotes and a lighthearted grin to convey the experience of married life.

“But we love it,” your sister adds, her voice brimming with happiness and love, the warmth of her sentiment echoing in the glow of her smile.

A smile tugs at your lips as you imagine the day you’ll marry Jimin, the thought filling you with a rush of anticipation and warmth. You turn your head towards him and lean into his embrace, finding comfort in his steady presence. As you rest your head against his strong shoulder, you share a tender smile with him, a silent promise of the beautiful future you both envision together.

Resting your head on Jimin’s shoulder, you watch as your friends and family chat about everything under the sun. Occasionally, you join in, but you mostly listen, soaking up the joy and familiarity that fills the air. The comforting blend of Jimin’s musky scent surrounds you like a warm embrace, filling you with love and serenity. The gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against your body harmonizes with your own, the two of you perfectly in sync, a quiet yet powerful reminder of your deep love.

For a moment, you close your eyes and let yourself truly savor this idyllic scene with your friends and family, the sounds of laughter and conversation swirling around you. As you bask in the warmth of this perfect moment, a profound realization washes over you: you’ve been granted everything you once dreamed of. The rift with your sister has healed, something you once thought impossible. You’ve rekindled your relationship with your childhood friend and crush, and soon you will marry him. The sheer serendipity of it all feels almost surreal as you reflect on how life has brought you full circle.

In the two years since your return, your journey has been marked by a whirlwind of experiences—mistakes, challenges, and triumphs. Each one has played a vital role in molding you into the person you’ve become. These moments of growth have paved the way for your present strength and resilience.

The infectious laughter of those around you envelops your ears, amplifying the love and warmth that fills the air. This moment holds a unique magic, one that you can’t quite put your finger on but know instinctively is special. It’s your first official day living with your fiancé, and as each day passes, you draw closer to the dream of calling him your husband. The anticipation of the future mingles with the beauty of the present, creating a moment you’ll cherish forever.

You eagerly anticipate the day you’ll exchange vows and begin your life as a married couple. The thought of your wedding day fills you with joy and excitement, knowing that it will mark the start of a beautiful, lifelong journey together.

Jimin guides the truck to a stop in front of the jewelry store, silencing the engine with a twist of the key. The building’s polished windows reflect the bright sunlight, hinting at the treasures inside as the two of you prepare for a special moment in your lives.

“Is this where you got my engagement ring?” you ask Jimin, glancing at the golden band with its stunning purple gemstone on your finger. You lift your gaze to him, your heart racing with anticipation as you smile, cherishing the beautiful memory of how he proposed to you in the muddy rain.

“Yes, I did,” he confirms with a soft smile. “And I have a feeling we’ll find the perfect wedding bands here too.” Leaning across the center console, he gently cups your face and pulls you in for a deep, sweet kiss that fills you with warmth, his affection radiating through every touch.

You savor the touch of his soft lips on yours, the way they fit perfectly against yours, as if you were made for each other. 

“Come, love,” he murmurs, pulling back with a lingering smile. He opens the door and steps out, waiting for you as you follow suit.

Outside, Jimin takes your hand in his, the warmth of his touch sending a rush of affection through you. Together, you walk toward the store’s entrance, feeling a sense of anticipation. Jimin opens the door for you, the soft chime of the bell welcoming you into the world of sparkling jewels and possibilities.

Your eyes are met with an array of displays, each one showcasing exquisite jewelry in various metals and vibrant gemstones. The dazzling assortment leaves you momentarily unsure where to focus your attention. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer variety, you turn to Jimin, trusting his experience with the store to guide you through the selection process.

A woman elegantly dressed in a black pencil skirt and crisp white blouse approaches you with a welcoming smile. “Hi, how can I help you?” She asks, her gaze briefly resting on your intertwined hands. As she meets both of your eyes, her expression lights up with recognition. “You’ve returned!” She exclaims, her gaze lingering on Jimin's face as a hint of familiarity crosses her features.

You offer a hesitant smile, the sense of familiarity between the woman and Jimin making you feel slightly nervous. Jimin, however, greets her with a friendly smile and a nod, acknowledging the recognition.

The woman glances at you with a knowing smile. “I take it she said yes, and she loves the ring?” she asks, her gaze settling on you as she sees the engagement ring on your finger.

You smile and nod, acknowledging the woman’s question. The conversation feels a bit strange, being discussed as if you weren’t present. Despite this, you try to remain polite and gracious, eager to continue with the task at hand and find the perfect wedding bands.

With a gentle smile, she says, “Congratulations! Are you here to find the perfect wedding bands today?”

Both you and Jimin reply in unison, “Yeah!” 

Your simultaneous response triggers a burst of laughter, easing the slight nervousness you felt as it dissipates into the air. 

The woman guides you to a display filled with a stunning array of rings, predominantly wedding bands in various styles and materials. “These are our selections, and there are more on this display right here,” she explains, pointing to a neighboring case. “Take your time to browse and let me know if you see something you like,” she adds with a warm smile before stepping back to give you some privacy.

You both nod in acknowledgment, turning your attention to the two displays she indicated. The sheer variety of rings is a bit overwhelming, leaving you unsure of what you want—or what Jimin might like. Seeking his opinion, you turn to him and ask, “What do you like?”

Jimin offers you a warm smile as he surveys the selection. “I think something classic,” he muses, his gaze skimming over the array of rings. “Nothing too flashy, just something timeless that suits us both.”

You nod in agreement. “I think that’s the way to go—something classic and timeless.”

“Yes, I like that idea,” he agrees. Together, you browse the display of rings, taking in the classic gold bands, sleek silver options, and even some adorned with delicate stones. The variety offers a range of choices, each with its own unique appeal.

Your eyes catch on something that stands out—it’s not a traditional classic band, but there’s an intriguing charm to it. You point it out, intrigued. “What about this one?” You ask, indicating a wedding band with a unique design. The band blends classic and modern styles, featuring intertwined silver and gold in an elegant twist, creating a captivating visual effect.

“I know it’s not the traditional style, but there’s something so beautiful about it,” you say, your voice thick with love and affection as you admire the ring’s unique design.

“It’s beautiful—almost like a blend of classic and modern,” he says with a smile, squeezing your hand gently. “I really like it.”

“Do you think this is the one?” He asks, his eyes shining with anticipation. You nod enthusiastically, your smile beaming back at him.

“Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

You signal to the store lady, who promptly approaches and carefully removes the ring from the display. As she hands it to you, you turn it over in your hands, examining it closely. The smoothness of the metal and the intricate twist of silver and gold seem to encapsulate the unique blend of your relationship. This ring feels like a tangible symbol of the fusion of your love for each other, and its perfect balance fills you with certainty.

Jimin asks the store attendant with a gentle smile, “Would it be possible to have them engraved?”

She nods enthusiastically, a joyful smile lighting up her face. “Absolutely, what would you like engraved on them?” She asks, her excitement mirroring yours as you prepare to add a personal touch to your chosen rings.

“Our names and the date we first met as kids,” Jimin explains, writing down the details on a piece of paper—your names, the meaningful date, and your ring sizes—and handing it to the store lady. 

The store attendant’s face lights up with a bright smile, her happiness evident as she absorbs the details. “That’s incredibly sweet,” she remarks, her voice filled with warmth. “Were you childhood friends?” Her eyes glisten with emotion, touched by the story of your enduring bond.

“Yes,” you both respond in unison, leaning into each other with smiles that reflect your history and deep affection.

“I love it,” she says, her voice brimming with warmth. “I’ll have the rings ready for you in a couple of weeks. I can ship them to you by mail if that’s alright?” She asks, her tone filled with genuine care for your special request.

“That’s perfect,” Jimin agrees with a nod and a warm smile. He completes the payment for the rings, and the two of you make your way back to his truck, holding hands and looking forward to the future together.

As he gazes at you with such intensity, you can feel the depth of his love, as though you are his entire world. It’s a moment that takes your breath away and leaves you with a profound sense of gratitude. The anticipation of marrying him swells within you, making your heart race with excitement for the future you will build together.

The door swings open abruptly, and Jungkook strides into the living room, momentarily disrupting your cozy evening with Jimin. You’re sprawled on the couch, sharing a relaxed moment while watching your favorite dating reality show, which the two of you often enjoy critiquing with playful banter.

You hear Jungkook’s groan and immediately shift your attention to him, taking in his furrowed brows and anguished expression. Concern washes over you as you watch him take a defeated seat next to Jimin, his body language revealing that something is weighing heavily on him. The lighthearted mood in the room shifts, and you brace yourself for what's coming next.

“What’s going on, Kook?” You ask, your voice laced with curiosity and a touch of apprehension. Jungkook’s defeated demeanor has you on edge, and you hope whatever is troubling him isn’t as serious as it seems.

Jungkook groans once more, sinking deeper into the couch with a look of exasperation. “It’s your sister,” he mutters, his tone heavy with frustration or concern.

At the mention of your sister, you flinch, an instant jolt of concern propelling you to move closer to Jungkook. Practically crawling over your fiancé to get a clearer view, you urgently ask, “Is everything alright? Did something happen?” The worry in your voice is undeniable as you brace yourself for his response.

Jimin lets out a grunt as you inadvertently put your hands and most of your weight on his thighs. He shifts beneath you, making room for you to get a better view of Jungkook while you’re practically sitting on him. Despite the sudden pressure, Jimin’s presence provides you with the stability and support you need as you focus on Jungkook with concern etched across your face.

Jungkook shakes his head, his expression a mix of frustration and amusement. “No, it’s nothing serious—just the pregnancy.”

Frustrated by Jungkook’s vague response, you reach out and grab his shirt, pulling him closer with a determined glint in your eyes. Your face inches away from his, you hiss, “If you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’ll make it so this will be the only child you ever have.”

Both Jimin and Jungkook recoil slightly at your intense threat, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Jungkook exhales a huff, his expression a mix of surprise and reluctant amusement. “Wow, that’s quite the threat,” he remarks, attempting to diffuse the tension. “I was going to tell you, just calm down.”

You roll your eyes in exasperation, releasing your grip on Jungkook’s shirt. As you settle back into your spot beside Jimin, you relax against him, resuming the comfortable lounging position you had been in before the interruption. 

The moment of tension dissipates, but your curiosity about the situation remains.

“Talk,” you demand, the edge in your voice leaving no room for misinterpretation. The seriousness in your tone serves as a clear warning that Jungkook should tread carefully to avoid provoking your anger.

“Well, Jessi’s been dealing with nonstop nausea, and her mood swings are off the charts,” Jungkook begins with a frustrated groan. “One minute she’s furious, the next she’s in tears, and then suddenly she’s super emotional and wants to be intimate all the time. It’s a rollercoaster, and I’m struggling to keep up.”

You and Jimin both burst into laughter, relieved by Jungkook’s predicament and thankful that there was nothing seriously wrong. The shared humor lightens the mood, easing your earlier tension and allowing you to relax back into the couch, reassured by the knowledge that Jungkook’s concerns were more about the trials and tribulations of parenthood than any serious issue.

“She’s pregnant, Kook. Those things happen to some pregnant women,” you say with a shrug, your tone gentle as you offer some reassurance to Jungkook. Leaning into Jimin’s comforting touch, you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, finding solace in his embrace as you reflect on the challenges your sister is navigating.

“Maybe, but I’ve never seen her like this before,” Jungkook admits, a mix of concern and frustration coloring his voice. “She’s so emotional, and she seems so fragile when she’s usually so tough,” he adds with a sigh, grappling with the unexpected transformation of your sister.

“Just hang in there—only seven more months to go,” Jimin reassures Jungkook with a gentle pat on his back. 

“You and Jessi will make it through this together.” 

“So, is this your escape from her wrath?” You ask with a chuckle, a playful smile on your lips. Your teasing tone lightens the mood a bit.

Jungkook buries his face in his hands and lets out a groan. “Yeah,” he admits, his voice filled with a mixture of frustration and resignation. 

“She was crying because the dishwasher wouldn’t start,” Jungkook begins, and you can feel a flicker of anger at the thought that he might have left your sister in distress. But then he continues, “And when I tried to fix it, she got so mad at me and told me to leave.”

Jungkook appears slightly emotionally drained, and you can understand why. Your sister has always been a strong-willed, independent person with a quick temper—traits that pregnancy may have intensified. You can’t help but feel relief that you don’t live with her anymore, though you sympathize with Jungkook’s predicament.

“I’m sorry,” you say, trying to balance humor with understanding. “But I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean for you to actually leave the property.” You let out a soft, empathetic laugh, your voice tinged with melancholy. “Why not head back and give her a hug? It might be just what she needs right now.”

Jungkook nods in agreement and rises from the couch. “You’re probably right,” he concedes with a resigned sigh. “I’ll head back and apologize.” 

“Catch you later, Kook,” you and Jimin chime in unison, exchanging a playful glance. You gaze up at Jimin’s face as you rest against his shoulder, tracing the familiar patterns of his cute moles with your eyes and feeling a warm sense of comfort.

“Do you think I’ll be like that too when I’m pregnant?” You ask Jimin, your question hanging in the air between you. You can feel his heart rate quicken, a sign of his sudden nervousness or excitement at the thought. He shifts slightly, turning his head toward you and pulling you gently away from his body to meet your gaze. His eyes lock onto yours with a tenderness that speaks volumes, as if searching for the right words to offer reassurance or express his own thoughts about the possibility of starting a family together.

“When you get pregnant?” Jimin echoes your question, a hint of uncertainty coloring his voice. His curious gaze locks onto yours, as though he’s trying to grasp the full meaning of your words. His expression suggests he’s unsure whether he heard you correctly, leaving you with a sense of anticipation for his reaction.

You bite your lip and give a nod, confirming his question, “Yeah.” 

“You want to have kids with me?” Jimin rephrases the question, his wide eyes shimmering with the hint of tears. His joy is palpable, his beaming smile nearly breaking free as he processes the profoundness of your admission.

“Yeah, I told you before. I’ve been thinking about it more. I want to have kids with you,” you say, your smile soft and sincere as you cup his face with your hand. “A little one with your beautiful eyes, your full lips, and those adorable cheeks,” you add, your voice filled with affection. “And they’ll inherit my amazing personality too,” you tease playfully, imagining the perfect blend of your best traits in your future child.

Jimin begins to sob, tears streaming down his face as he struggles to steady his uneven breathing. Your heart aches seeing his emotional response, and you gently wipe away his tears with a comforting touch. “It’s okay, love,” you soothe, your voice soft and reassuring, offering him a sense of calm and safety as he processes the moment.

“I’m just so happy,” Jimin says, his voice breaking as he chokes back tears. “To know that you truly want kids... I was never sure if it was something you really wanted or if you were just saying it to make me happy. I would never want you to feel pressured into this, you know that, right?” His eyes glisten with a mixture of love and happiness, reflecting the depth of his emotions.

You nestle closer to Jimin, kissing him deeply as you whisper, “Oh, Jimin, don’t worry. The thought of having kids with you fills me with so much love. Just imagining a little one with your beautiful eyes and infectious smile running around lights up my world.” As your lips meet his, you savor the connection, even tasting his salty tears. In this moment, your love for him overwhelms you, making everything else fade into the background.

“I’ll go find Tae and let him know dinner’s ready,” you announce to Jimin, Yoongi, and Hoseok, who are already settled at the dining table enjoying their meals. 

You step outside, heading down the yard towards the stables where the light still glows, suggesting Taehyung might be there. It’s the most likely spot to find him, and as you walk, the evening’s cool breeze adds a calming touch to your purposeful stride. The stables, with their comforting familiarity, seem like the perfect place to begin your search.

As you step inside the stables, you’re met with an unexpected chorus of grunts, moans, and heavy breathing. The sudden sounds catch you off guard, causing your body to freeze in place. A blush quickly creeps up your cheeks, spreading to your ears as you process the intimate noises.

You grapple with the shock, as your heart races, realizing you’ve just walked in on an intimate moment. It’s a strange mix of embarrassment and disbelief, feeling like an uninvited guest in a private scene. Then it hits you—the irony of their choice to be so bold in such a public setting like the stables.

Despite the initial shock, you decide to proceed further into the stables, taking careful, deliberate steps down the aisle. You make sure to create noticeable sounds with your movements, whether by deliberately stepping harder or shuffling items along the way. This way, you aim to signal your presence and give whoever is there a chance to respond or adjust to your unexpected arrival.

“Tae?” You call out into the room, your voice echoing through the stables. Almost immediately, you hear the sound of shuffling, followed by grunts and the soft murmur of curses. 

“What?” Taehyung grunts from where he’s hidden among the hay. The sound of his voice elicits a mischievous smile from you as you imagine the flustered scene you might have interrupted.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Ara’s voice reaches you, carrying a note of embarrassment and guilt. You sense her distress, but you take it in stride, not overly concerned by the situation.

“I just wanted to let you know that dinner’s ready,” you announce in a matter-of-fact tone as you turn to leave. “Come down whenever you two are finished.” 

You can’t help but chuckle, the irony of the moment not lost on you. “You really are a hypocrite, Tae.”

As you hear more shuffling and rumbling noises behind you, you can’t help but shake your head and close the stable doors with a sense of amusement. The absurdity of the moment strikes you, and you laugh so hard that your stomach begins to ache from the intensity of your laughter.

“It’s been ages since we went for a ride just for fun,” you say with a smile as you and Yoongi trot through the lush green landscape. The freedom and simplicity of the moment bring a sense of nostalgia and joy, reminding you both of the simple pleasures that life offers.

Yoongi chuckles, a rare glint of lightness in his eyes. “Yeah, it’s a nice change of pace,” he says, his tone carrying a hint of appreciation for the moment.

You urge your horses into a gallop, with Yoongi on Holly and you on Mikrokosmos, the rush of speed and the exhilaration of freedom washing over you. The wind plays with your hair as you give the horses free rein, allowing them to kick up dirt and race to their heart's content. This moment of wild abandon brings a thrill that makes your heart soar and brings you closer to the essence of being alive.

You’ll never tire of this feeling—the sensation of flying and floating as you ride your horse through the open air. The caress of the wind on your face as you gallop through nature is an experience unlike any other, a rush of freedom and exhilaration. Even though you don’t currently need healing, the simple act of horseback riding has always been a source of peace and rejuvenation for you. It’s a therapy that soothes your soul and brings you back to your center.

You and Yoongi ride for a long while, enjoying the tranquility of the journey, until you approach the edge of a dense forest. Together, you guide your horses to a halt, stepping down and allowing them to graze on the lush green grass around you.

As you take a seat on the soft grass, the serene surroundings envelop you. The shade of the forest offers respite from the sun, and the sounds of nature—rustling leaves and distant bird calls—create a calming backdrop. It’s a moment of perfect harmony with the natural world, a peaceful interlude where you can fully absorb the beauty and stillness of your surroundings.

You settle down next to Yoongi, and you take a moment to savor the quiet companionship you share. The simplicity of your friendship brings you a deep sense of contentment, and you can’t help but feel immense gratitude for the day you met him. His presence is a constant source of comfort, and you appreciate the easy friendship and understanding you both share.

For a moment, you exchange a knowing look with Yoongi, a silent understanding passing between you. There’s no need for words—you both feel the same deep sense of appreciation for this quiet companionship. You cherish how you can simply be in each other’s company, enveloped in the serene embrace of nature, without the need for constant conversation. The unspoken bond you share is a rare and beautiful thing, a testament to the strength of your friendship.

Yoongi suddenly turns to you, his expression a mix of anticipation and nervousness. “I’m going to ask Hobi to marry me,” he confides, his voice carrying the weight of the monumental decision he’s about to make. His eyes lock onto yours, searching for your reaction, and you can sense the depth of his emotions—love, excitement, and a hint of apprehension.

You’re taken aback by Yoongi’s revelation, but simultaneously, it’s not entirely unexpected. You’ve observed his growing interest in the idea of marriage over the past few weeks, noting his thoughtful questions and contemplative musings on the subject. His decision to propose to Hoseok feels like a natural progression, given the depth of their relationship and his recent reflections on commitment and partnership.

You envelop Yoongi in a tight hug, a warm smile lighting up your face. “You absolutely should. I’m so happy for you, and I have no doubt he’ll say yes.” Your voice carries genuine excitement and encouragement, affirming Yoongi’s decision and offering him your full support.

Yoongi chuckles as you hold him close. “I hope so too,” he says, his voice filled with warmth and a touch of nervousness. “I really love him more than anything.” His words reveal the depth of his feelings for Hoseok, making the moment even more touching and heartfelt.

You nod, your expression earnest. “I know, and you both deserve all the happiness in the world.” Your words carry a deep sense of conviction, affirming your belief in their love and your wish for their future together.

You release Yoongi from the hug and lean into his shoulder, offering him your silent support. 

“You too—have you thought about when you want to get married or what kind of wedding you’d like?” Yoongi asks, his curiosity evident in his tone. He’s genuinely interested in hearing about your plans for the future, showing his investment in your happiness and his desire to share in your excitement.

You let out a thoughtful sigh. “I’m not sure yet. We’re leaning towards something small and intimate,” you admit, your voice thick with love as you chuckle. “Honestly, I just want to marry him already, but we haven’t set a date yet. Maybe it’s time we do.” 

“I understand completely. If you need any help at all—setting a date, picking out invitations, choosing your dress, anything—you know you can count on me,” Yoongi offers warmly, pulling you into a supportive hug. His reassurance and willingness to assist in the wedding planning process highlight his genuine care for you and his desire to help make your special day as perfect as possible.

“You’re my best friend, and I want you to have the most perfect, happiest wedding day,” he continues, his words brimming with sincerity and affection. As you hear his heartfelt sentiment, you suddenly feel a few tears on your hand, realizing how much his support and friendship mean to you. In response, you wrap your arms around him even tighter, embracing the depth of your friendship and the love you share.

“Jimin!” You call out excitedly, rushing through the house and into your bedroom with a package in your hand. Your enthusiasm makes you push the door open with more force than intended. Your heart races with love and anticipation, as you can’t believe the moment has finally arrived—your rings are here.

Just as the jeweler had promised, the rings have arrived a few weeks after you and Jimin selected them together. It’s been a month since you made your choice, and now the moment you’ve been eagerly waiting for is here.

Jimin groans, still caught in the haze of sleep as you crawl onto the bed beside him. With a gentle touch, you shake him awake, your excitement palpable as you prepare to share the moment with him.

“What is it, love?” He asks, his voice heavy with sleep as he slowly comes to. His groggy state doesn’t dampen the affection in his tone, and you can tell he’s ready to listen despite his drowsiness.

“It’s our wedding rings! They’re finally here,” you exclaim, your smile radiant despite the early hour. You can’t contain your excitement, and the joy in your voice is infectious. The thought of holding your rings brings a sense of happiness and anticipation that overshadows the sleepiness of the morning.

Jimin’s eyes snap open at your words, fully awake now. His gaze locks onto the package in your hands, then shifts to you in your silky nightdress. As he runs a hand through his tousled blonde hair, he bites his lip in anticipation, his excitement mirroring yours. 

“Now that the rings are here, maybe we should talk about what kind of wedding we want,” you muse as you stretch out beside Jimin. 

Jimin chuckles, his smile warm and affectionate. “Yeah, we’re not exactly known for our planning skills,” he admits with a playful tone. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, locking eyes with Jimin. “But let’s take some time now to discuss it so we can make plans.” The love in his eyes is overwhelming, and you feel like you could lose yourself in them. 

With a soft smile, you run your hand over his bare skin as he lounges on his side. “Do you still want to keep the wedding intimate and small?” You ask, your fingers tracing gentle patterns, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against your touch.

“Yeah, I do,” Jimin responds with a smile, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “We don’t have a big family, and I just want our closest friends and family there.” He lets out a soft giggle as your playful touch lingers on his torso, enjoying the intimacy and lightheartedness of the moment.

“I want an intimate wedding too,” you say, pulling closer to Jimin as you share your thoughts. “If we just want our closest loved ones there, why not have the wedding soon? Everyone is already here.” Your suggestion brings an exciting immediacy to the conversation, hinting at the possibility of a heartfelt, spontaneous celebration of your love.

Jimin’s eyes light up with realization, and he nods, his excitement palpable. He bites his lip thoughtfully, a lovely smile spreading across his face as he processes the idea. The notion of an intimate wedding with your loved ones already present clearly resonates with him.

“You’re right. Why wait?” Jimin responds, his voice filled with eager excitement. You watch as his body trembles slightly, a visible manifestation of the anticipation and love that courses through him at the thought of marrying you sooner rather than later.

“Today?” Jimin’s body radiates love and anticipation, and his infectious excitement mirrors your own. You can’t help but break into a smile as you straddle him, looking down at the person who means everything to you. In that moment, you’re overwhelmed by the thought of marrying him right then and there, the desire so strong it fills your heart to the brim.

“Today,” you reaffirm, your voice filled with conviction and exhilaration. Your heart races, almost bursting from your chest with the overwhelming love you feel. The realization that you might get married today sends a thrill through you—you’re ready and can’t wait to take this monumental step.

You surge forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that lasts for minutes. Your lips begin to ache from the intensity, but you barely notice—it feels too good, his taste intoxicating, his touch igniting a fire within you. You savor every moment, lost in the connection, in the depth of your love for him.

“Wait, we don’t have an officiant,” you suddenly realize, your excitement giving way to a moment of concern. “And on such short notice, how can we find someone out here?” Your disappointment is clear as your heart sinks at the thought of delaying your wedding plans. The longing to marry Jimin as soon as possible, now that you have your rings, feels urgent and immediate.

“Yeah, we need an officiant,” Jimin agrees with a groan, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ll ask Yoongi if he knows anyone who can help us out.” His quick-thinking response offers a glimmer of hope, suggesting a possible solution to your dilemma.

“We’ll ask him together,” you say playfully, running your fingers teasingly over Jimin’s chest. Reluctantly, you slide off him and get out of bed. “Come on, let’s get dressed.” Your voice carries a mix of anticipation and mischief, hinting at the adventure you’re about to embark on together as you prepare to speak with Yoongi.

Together, you hastily dress, the thrill of your mission adding a sense of urgency to your movements. You rush down the stairs and make your way outside, heading straight for Yoongi’s cottage with excitement propelling your steps. The anticipation of making your spontaneous wedding plans a reality fills the air.

You knock on the door, expecting a quick response, but when none comes, you decide not to waste any time. “Forget it,” you mutter, pushing the door open with determination. Your eagerness to speak with Yoongi outweighs any hesitation about barging in unannounced, driven by your desire to make your wedding plans a reality.

Yoongi and Hoseok are still asleep when you enter, and you briefly regret interrupting their rest. However, you remember that Yoongi told you to seek his help with your wedding planning, so you press on. With Jimin behind you, you approach Yoongi and gently poke his face to wake him. “Yoon, wake up,” you whisper, trying to rouse him without causing too much of a disturbance.

Yoongi grumbles, slowly stirring from sleep.

“What?” He mumbles, his voice thick with grogginess. His half-asleep state makes him sound less than enthusiastic, but the familiar tone in his voice reassures you that he’s ready to hear what you have to say.

“Do you know anyone who can officiate our wedding?” You ask, a bright smile on your face as you observe Hoseok stirring awake beside Yoongi. 

Yoongi groans, his voice heavy with sleep as he mutters, “Yeah, I know someone.”

“Great, just give me their number, and we’ll leave you alone,” you say, trying to minimize the disruption of his sleep. Although you feel a twinge of guilt for waking him, you reassure yourself that he would be up soon anyway, hoping your request doesn’t cause too much inconvenience.

“You already have it,” Yoongi grumbles, his voice still thick with sleep as he turns over in bed to face Hoseok, who is now fully awake. 

“What do you mean?” Jimin asks from your side, his curiosity evident in his voice. He looks between you and Yoongi, trying to understand the situation.

“I got ordained a couple of weeks ago, after our wedding talk,” Yoongi explains, still facing away from you as he speaks. His words catch you off guard, a pleasant surprise as you realize he anticipated your need for an officiant. This unexpected gesture of support and forethought from Yoongi fills you with gratitude and admiration for his thoughtfulness.

“You did?” Your eyes widen in surprise and your heart swells with love for your best friend. The unexpected gesture leaves you feeling incredibly grateful and touched by Yoongi’s support. You can’t help but feel an overwhelming urge to hug him and show your appreciation for his thoughtfulness.

“I had a feeling you might want to elope or have an intimate ceremony,” Yoongi says, his voice still heavy with sleep. “Let me guess—you want to get married today.” Despite his groggy state, he sits up, turning to face you. His bare chest is on display, but you focus your gaze on his slightly puffy face, your excitement building as his words confirm he understands your plans.

“Yeah, we do,” Jimin confirms, his hand reaching out to find yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. The touch is intimate, a silent affirmation of your shared desire to get married today. 

“I’ll marry you to each other. That was the whole point anyway,” Yoongi says with a casual, dismissive tone, but his voice is thick with love. His intentions are clear, and the smile playing on his lips confirms his genuine happiness for you and Jimin. His commitment to officiating your wedding adds a special touch, turning the moment into one of deep affection and anticipation.

“Thank you so much, Yoon,” you say, your voice filled with gratitude as your eyes well up with tears. Letting go of Jimin’s hand, you wrap Yoongi in a heartfelt hug. The warmth of his body and the friendly pat on your back from his hands offer comfort and reinforce the depth of your friendship. 

It’s a touching moment of friendship and appreciation for Yoongi’s willingness to play such an important role in your special day.

“No problem,” Yoongi replies, giving Jimin a playful thumbs up behind your back. “Now, off you go so I can properly wake up with my boyfriend.” His words are lighthearted and teasing, infusing a touch of humor to the moment and subtly hinting that he wants some privacy with Hoseok.

You chuckle and release Yoongi from the hug, offering him a grateful smile. “Yes, of course! Sorry for the intrusion, but thank you so much,” you say, your tone lighthearted and full of appreciation. 

Your smile is radiant, a reflection of the overwhelming happiness and love you feel. You can’t possibly contain your joy as you grab Jimin’s hand and pull him outside, eager to share your excitement and anticipation for the day ahead. Your enthusiasm is contagious, and Jimin’s grip on your hand tightens, ready to embark on this special journey with you.

“I can’t wait!” you exclaim, your voice brimming with giddiness as you practically bounce around Jimin. Your excitement is palpable, and your energy is infectious. In response, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you a deep, passionate kiss that conveys his own eagerness and love. 

The embrace feels like a promise of the beautiful day ahead and the many more to come.

It feels as though your souls are intertwined in a beautiful dance, swirling together in perfect harmony. The overwhelming love you feel fills every corner of your heart, making you ache with anticipation to marry Jimin. The closeness between you, the way your hearts beat in sync, makes it clear that this is the love you’ve always dreamed of.

Jimin gently pulls away, locking his gaze with yours. “Now we just have to call everyone,” he says with a smile, his excitement evident. “But let’s have some breakfast first.”

You nod, your heart fluttering with love as you and Jimin walk back to the house hand in hand. Together, you grab something to eat while you look at your phone, deciding who to call and invite. You start with your sister, eager to share the good news. When you tell her, she yells in excitement before breaking down in happy sobs, promising that she, Jungkook, and the rest of your friends will come over right away. 

After finishing your meal, you seek out Taehyung to share the exciting news about your wedding taking place later today. When you tell him, his face lights up with happiness and anticipation. He can’t wait to attend the ceremony and celebrate this special day with you and Jimin. 

“Love, you don’t have a wedding dress,” Jimin says, his eyes filled with concern over the oversight. But you smile, brushing it off. The lack of a wedding dress doesn’t bother you in the slightest; your focus is on the joy of marrying Jimin and celebrating your love with those closest to you.

“I don’t need a traditional white wedding dress,” you reassure Jimin, your excitement evident. “I already have the perfect dress.” With that, you pull out the flowery dress Jimin bought for you two years ago, a dress that holds sentimental value. The sight of the dress brings back fond memories, and you know it will make your wedding day even more meaningful. Jimin’s gift now becomes a beautiful symbol of your love and the journey you’ve shared together.

You watch as Jimin’s eyes fill with tears, mirroring your own emotional response. “I don’t care about tradition,” you say, your voice tender and sincere. “I care about you, and I love this dress that you gave me.” Your words convey the depth of your affection for Jimin and the sentimental value of the dress.

Jimin sniffles as he walks over to you, wrapping you in a heartfelt embrace. “I fucking love you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. 

You chuckle softly, the intensity of emotion between you two almost tangible. “I love you too,” you respond, your voice full of warmth and sincerity. 

Jimin pulls back slightly, a playful glint in his eyes as he asks, “Should I wear a suit?”

“You can if you want, but my only concern is that you’re comfortable,” you say with a mischievous smile, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “I’m going to be ripping your clothes off at the end of the day anyway, so it’s up to you.” Your teasing words make Jimin burst out in a giggle.

You take your time getting dressed and applying makeup, stealing a glance at Jimin out of the corner of your eye. You watch as he slips on his suit and hat, the ensemble bringing a smile to your face. He looks undeniably dapper, though in your eyes, Jimin would look good in anything. 

Hand in hand, you and Jimin walk out of your bedroom and descend the stairs, the anticipation building with each step. As you reach the living room, you’re greeted by the sight of your family and closest friends, all gathered and dressed up, their faces beaming with joy. Your eyes meet those of your sister, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin, all of them warmly smiling at you and Jimin. The warmth and love in the room envelop you both, creating a perfect setting for the special day ahead. 

Your eyes begin to well up with tears as you take in the sight of your family and friends gathered to celebrate your special day. You start to understand why your sister was so emotional on her wedding day—the overwhelming sense of love, support, and unity is almost too much to contain. The realization of how significant this moment is fills you with a deep, heartfelt joy.

“Where do you want to get married?” Yoongi asks, his eyes reflecting genuine interest as he addresses both you and Jimin. The question holds a sense of anticipation, as though he’s ready to help make your dream ceremony a reality wherever you choose. 

“Outside in nature. We have to ride there on horseback,” you announce with a pleased smile, grabbing Jimin’s hand as you envision your dream wedding. The thought of saying your vows surrounded by the beauty of the natural world, riding to the ceremony on horseback, fills you with excitement. 

“You’re lucky we’re all on horseback,” your sister grunts, gently caressing her growing belly.

“And you had no issue letting her ride a horse?” You ask Jungkook with disbelief, clearly surprised by his decision. His choice seems at odds with the usual precautions he has taken during her pregnancy, and you can’t help but express your astonishment.

“She’s a grown woman and a skilled rider. I’m not about to argue with her on that,” Jungkook responds, his voice confident as he defends his decision. His mischievous smile reveals his trust in your sister's abilities and his decision to respect her autonomy. 

“Damn right I am,” your sister retorts with a grin, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and leading him outside. 

You hand the rings to Yoongi, your trust in him evident in your gesture. “I want you to present them to us when the moment comes,” you tell him, entrusting him with a crucial role in your wedding ceremony. 

Yoongi takes the rings from you and carefully places them in the pocket of his black jeans. His deliberate action reassures you that the rings are safe with him. 

“Let’s get you two married,” Yoongi announces with a grin, leading the way to the stables alongside you, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, Seokjin and Hoseok. As you prepare to saddle up, you can feel the anticipation in the air, the group united in the shared excitement of the day ahead.

You gently pat Mikrokosmos on her head as you tack her up, leading her out of the stables. As you meet Jimin outside, your hand instinctively finds his, and together you guide your horses toward the house where the others are waiting. 

You gallop out to the perfect spot, the wind rushing past you and your companions. There’s a serene, unspoken understanding between you all as you ride. The silence that envelops you adds to the magic of the moment, as you take in the breathtaking beauty of the open land and the anticipation of the ceremony to come. 

The only sounds are the rhythmic hoofbeats and the gentle breeze.

As you finally approach the spot, your heart swells with recognition and joy. The intimate clearing, framed by trees and shrubs with the majestic mountains as a backdrop, feels like a scene from a dream. Fields of bluebonnets and wildflowers you’ve yet to identify create a vibrant, fragrant carpet. You guide Mikrokosmos to a gentle stop and gracefully dismount, allowing the breathtaking beauty to wash over you. For a moment, you stand in awe, absorbing the serene landscape, as Jimin and the rest of your loved ones arrive, matching your shared sense of wonder.

Taehyung takes in the surrounding nature, his expression curious. “What’s so special about this place?” He asks, his gaze sweeping over the vibrant wildflowers and picturesque backdrop.

“This is where we had sex for the first time,” Jimin reveals, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek, sending a thrill down your spine. 

Taehyung grunts and rolls his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “You guys are so gross,” he teases, but there’s an undercurrent of fondness in his voice. 

“I think it’s incredibly sweet and romantic,” Soo-ah chimes in, walking up to you with a warm smile on her face.

“After what I heard you and Ara do in the stables, I don’t think you’re one to talk,” you retort, a playful huff in your tone. Your teasing jab at Taehyung immediately silences him.

The group chuckles together, their laughter echoing through the serene surroundings. Yoongi steps forward, positioning you and Jimin face-to-face while your friends form a supportive circle around you. Meanwhile, your horses graze quietly in the background.

You can hardly contain your excitement, your body trembling with joy and love. The setting holds a special place in your heart, as it is deeply meaningful for both you and Jimin. The sheer perfection of the moment and the location fills you with gratitude and anticipation, knowing that there couldn’t be a more fitting or beautiful place for your wedding.

“Are you ready?” Yoongi asks, his voice soft and warm. His gentle smile is filled with genuine affection, and his eyes sparkle with love as he looks at you and Jimin. 

You both nod, grinning like fools in love—because you are. The anticipation swells within you, knowing you’re about to marry your childhood friend, your longtime crush, your soulmate. This moment is the culmination of a beautiful journey, and your hearts are ready to take the next step together.

Jimin removes his hat and hands it to his brother, a casual yet deliberate gesture. As he runs his hand through his hair, you can’t help but be drawn to him, knowing how that move always gets your heart racing and turning you on.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, smiling warmly at the gathered guests. “Welcome, friends and family. We’re here to celebrate the union of these two wonderful souls. Today, we’re witnesses to their commitment to love and their choice to spend their lives together. Let’s share in their joy and support them on this beautiful journey.” His words set a heartfelt tone for the ceremony, inviting everyone to join in the celebration of your love and dedication to each other.

“Jimin, you’re up first. I hope you prepared some vows,” Yoongi says with a chuckle, eliciting laughter from the rest of the party. You don’t mind the light-hearted banter; in fact, it helps ease the slight nervousness coursing through your veins. 

Jimin’s soft smile grows wider, showcasing his perfect crooked teeth and those endearing dimples. “My love,” he begins, his voice filled with affection. “I’ve loved you for so long, since we were kids, and my love for you has only grown stronger. Sometimes, the intensity of it scares me, but I know that with you by my side, there’s nothing to fear. Together, we can face anything, and my love for you feels transcendent, ever-growing and evolving. I know I’m flawed and have made mistakes, but your unwavering love has been my anchor. I’m so grateful for you and your love. I promise to cherish you forever, to fill our days with happiness, adventure, and boundless love. I’m excited to share my life with you, to build a family with you. All my love is yours, and it always will be.” 

His heartfelt vows resonate deeply, conveying his profound commitment and adoration for you.

As you hold Jimin’s hand, a wave of emotion washes over you, making your hands suddenly feel sweaty. Gazing into his soft brown eyes, you see a world of love and devotion reflected back at you. His eyes speak volumes about his boundless affection for you, and you can’t help but feel a lump form in your throat. The depth of his emotions stirs something profound within you, filling you with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

Jimin smiles at you, his eyes brimming with tears of emotion. You watch as a few slip down his cheeks, his vulnerability touching your heart. Your instinct is to reach out and gently wipe away his tears, but you resist, allowing him to fully experience this profound moment. 

Yoongi turns to you with a gentle reminder, “It’s your turn,” his words prompting you to take the next step in your vows. His supportive gaze encourages you, and you take a moment to gather your thoughts and emotions. 

You chuckle nervously, mustering all the love you have for this incredible man. “Jimin, my love,” you begin, “I’ve loved you since we were kids, but my love for you developed slowly over the years. It took me time to realize my feelings, but they’ve always been there, just waiting to be unlocked. I love you with all my heart; you are my soulmate, and I adore your heart, your soul, and your kindness. I love you so much that it should be illegal, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, building a family together.”

You pause as tears begin to flow, overwhelmed with emotion. You clench his hands in yours and continue, “With you, I’ve found my home. Home is where my heart is, and my heart is with you.” Your heartfelt vows touch everyone present, the intensity of your love clear in every word you say.

Jimin starts to lean in for a kiss, but Yoongi playfully interrupts, placing a hand between you. “Wait, the rings first,” he chuckles, and the rest of the party joins in the laughter. 

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself as Yoongi asks if you want to marry each other. The anticipation builds, but when you both say yes, your heart swells with happiness. Yoongi hands you your rings, and the exchange of this symbol of your love and commitment fills the moment with significance and emotion. 

Jimin takes your left hand in his, carefully sliding off your engagement ring. He transfers it to your right hand, placing it gently on your ring finger. Then, with deliberate tenderness, he slides the wedding ring onto your left hand, his movements slow and precise. Once the ring is in place, a surge of happiness washes over you. You gaze at the beautiful ring on your finger, admiring the way the silver and gold intertwine perfectly. The design symbolizes your unity, reflecting your journey together and the depth of your love. 

You examine the ring in your hand, its engraving catching the light—a delicate inscription of your name and the date you first met. The thought that you both carry each other’s name with you on your rings fills you with warmth and a sense of deep love.

You take Jimin’s left hand, your touch gentle but steady. As you find his ring finger, you slowly slide the ring onto it, your movements deliberate and heartfelt. The moment feels sacred, the symbolism of placing the ring on his finger marking the beginning of your new life together. You watch his face light up with joy, and you know that this exchange of rings signifies not just your love, but the promises you've made to walk hand in hand for the rest of your lives.

When the ring is securely on Jimin’s finger, you both lift your gazes to meet each other’s eyes. The moment feels charged with emotion, as if the world stands still for just the two of you. Then, you turn your head to Yoongi, seeking his next words to finalize the ceremony. Your anticipation grows as you await the moment that will officially seal your union.

“Yes, yes, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss,” Yoongi declares, his tone almost nonchalant, as if he can hardly be bothered. But you know the truth—his words carry warmth and a deep sense of joy for you both. His casual delivery brings a touch of humor and charm to the ceremony, and the affection in his eyes reveals just how much this moment means to him.

You grin widely as you lean in to kiss your husband. This kiss feels different, charged with a new sense of intimacy and commitment. Shivers run through your body as you feel giddy, overwhelmed with joy and happiness. 

As your lips meet, you don’t pull apart. Instead, you stay locked in the kiss, savoring the love. Jimin holds you tight and pushes you back gently, making you hover in the air as he deepens the kiss. The embrace is both tender and passionate, sealing your vows with a kiss that signifies the start of your new journey together.

Your friends and family erupt in cheers, catcalls, and applause, filling the air with their excitement. They shout congratulations and well-wishes, creating an atmosphere of celebration and joy around you. Their enthusiastic response amplifies the happiness of the moment, making you feel truly surrounded by love and support as you and Jimin share your first moments as a married couple.

Jimin lifts you back up, and you both pull away, gasping for air before bursting into laughter. The moment feels lighthearted and full of joy. You lace your fingers with his, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and devotion. It’s as if you can’t get enough of him, your heart overflowing with affection for your husband.

“Congratulations!” Yoongi says with a beaming smile, and the rest of the party echoes his sentiment, surrounding you and Jimin with hugs and kisses. You’re showered with love and affection from all sides, your heart swelling with gratitude. As tears of joy stream down your face, you realize how truly blessed you are to have such supportive and loving people in your life. This outpouring of emotion makes the moment unforgettable, truly sealing the beauty of your special day.

“I’m crashing at Jessi and Kook’s tonight,” Taehyung declares with a playful grin, hugging you tightly. “Because I know you two are gonna do nasty things I’d rather not hear or see.” His teasing tone brings a lighthearted touch to the moment, and his affection for you is clear in the way he holds you close.

You can’t help but burst out laughing at Taehyung’s comment—it’s true, and everyone knows it. The anticipation of getting home and fuck the shit out of Jimin, your husband, fills you with too much excitement. You’re eager to rip his clothes off and lose yourself in the passion and intimacy of your new life together.

After spending a few moments catching up with your friends and family, you and Jimin say your farewells. You mount your horses, waving goodbye to everyone as they prepare to ride back to Bora Ranch. The journey home to Bell Ranch with Jimin feels serene and special, as you reflect on the incredible day you’ve had and the future that lies ahead. The ride back allows you to savor the peaceful moments together, anticipating the start of your new life as a married couple.

You and Jimin race across the open fields, urging your horses forward as excitement pulses through you both. The wind whips your dress around your thighs, but you pay no mind—you can’t wait to get back and have sex with your husband once you reach the sanctuary of your home.

When you arrive back at the ranch, you ride straight up to the stables, untack your horses, and settle them comfortably in their stalls. The moment you’re done, you and Jimin turn to each other, the anticipation palpable. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, unable to contain your desire any longer. 

You push Jimin against a stall, your eyes locked on his as you let out a low, throaty growl. “I want you, Jimin,” you whisper, the words dripping with desire, as your breath mingles with his. 

When you look into Jimin’s eyes, they are completely dark with desire. The intensity of his gaze sends a rush of arousal through you, and you can feel the heat between you two. There’s no doubt that your panties are already soaked, your anticipation for what’s to come pushing you closer to the edge. 

“Shit, I want you too,” Jimin pants, his breath hot and heavy as you touch him through his pants. 

You lean in close, whispering in his ear, “Let’s do it on the bed, like old married people.” 

Jimin chuckles, allowing you to lead him out of the stables and back to your house. The playful anticipation between you two is palpable. Once inside, you pull him close and knock his hat off before kissing him hungrily.

Your lips move from his mouth to his neck, planting kisses and gentle bites as you moan against his skin. 

Your hands glide eagerly over Jimin’s chest as you attempt to unbutton his shirt, but your impatience gets the best of you. Instead, you tear the shirt open, buttons flying to the ground as you reveal his toned chest. The sight of his exposed skin makes your breath catch and your lips part in anticipation, licking them as you prepare to feast your eyes and hands on him.

You swiftly pull the shirt off Jimin, leaving him shirtless in front of you. His bare chest and the desire in his eyes make your pulse race. In response, you reach behind to unzip your dress, letting it gracefully slip off your body and fall to the floor. 

Jimin’s eyes widen in astonishment as he gazes at you standing before him in just a bra. “You weren’t wearing panties this whole time?” He asks, his voice filled with lust and a hint of surprise. 

You chuckle softly, enjoying Jimin’s reaction to your revelation. Moving closer, you tease him by running your fingers playfully over his pants, feeling his dick pressing against the fabric. 

With a sultry tone and a smoldering gaze, you draw out the words, “No panties today,” savoring the look of desire in Jimin’s eyes. You bat your eyelashes flirtatiously and bite your lip.

“My nasty girl,” Jimin murmurs, his voice thick with a blend of lust and love. His hands grip your hips firmly, drawing you closer to him. As he moves in to kiss your neck, he adds a playful bite, promising a purple necklace as a mark of your passion. 

Jimin’s breath brushes against your ear as he pants, “I want to fuck my wife.” 

The raw desire in his voice sends shivers down your spine, igniting an electric anticipation within you. 

“Then take me to bed and fuck my brains out,” you moan, the intensity of your desire for Jimin nearly overwhelming. Your voice is laden with lust and love, and your chest feels like it's about to burst from the sheer force of your emotions. 

Jimin’s strong hands grip your hips firmly, lifting you effortlessly. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, holding on tight as he carries you through the house and up the stairs. nst yours fuels your desire, promising a night of unrestrained passion and closeness.

You feel Jimin’s heart pounding against your chest, the rhythm a sweet symphony to your ears. When he playfully tosses you onto the bed, you burst into laughter, feeling a rush of excitement. You spread your legs, allowing him to see just how wet you already are for him.

“Fucking hell. How long have you been like this?” Jimin exclaims, his voice filled with astonishment and desire as he takes in the sight of you. 

His gaze shifts down to his pants, noticing the wet stains there. “You’re dripping,” he remarks, a mixture of surprise and eagerness in his tone. 

“I just can’t wait for my husband to fuck me,” you say, your voice dripping with desire. As you teasingly touch your clit, Jimin lets out a groan, a blend of frustration and intense lust. 

You move to the edge of the bed where Jimin stands, your eyes locked on his. With a deliberate, teasing smile, you unzip his pants and pull them down along with his boxers, revealing his neglected, hard cock. It springs free, standing tall and proud, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.

The sight of him makes you lick your lips in anticipation. Without hesitation, you grab his cock and wrap your lips around him, surprising him with your eagerness. 

Jimin’s taste is intoxicating, and you can’t get enough of him. You eagerly take him into your mouth, sucking him with a fervor that makes him moan with pleasure. The sounds he makes—obscene and raw—intensify your desire, fueling your passion for him. 

You moan around Jimin’s dick, the vibrations sending shivers through him. His hands find purchase in your hair, his fingers tenderly stroking your cheeks as you hold his gaze, the intimacy of the moment building between you. As you look into his eyes, you can feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Love, I’m seriously not going to last long, and I want to come inside you,” Jimin tells you, his voice filled with urgency and desire. He gently tries to pull you away, his hands on your shoulders, revealing just how close he is as he tries to pull you off his dick.

You release Jimin’s cock and look up into his lustful eyes, your own gaze filled with longing and confidence. “I want you to come more than once—we have all the time we need, love,” you say, a playful edge to your voice. 

You wrap your warm mouth around him again, this time with more urgency and speed. Your cheeks hollow as you increase your pace, your tongue expertly teasing his frenulum. The sensation makes him gasp for breath, his hands finding your hair and pulling on it gently, a sign of his overwhelming pleasure. The combination of your soft tongue and the intensity of your actions sends waves of ecstasy through Jimin, his grip tightening in your hair. 

Jimin grunts above you, the sounds of his pleasure intensifying. You look up at him, taking in the utterly overwhelmed expression on his face and knowing he’s close to his orgasm. Determined to push him over the edge, you stroke the part of him that doesn’t fit in your mouth as you try to take him deeper.

You feel his dick hit the back of your throat, but you relax your jaw, focusing on breathing through your nose. 

As you continue to pleasure him with your mouth, you reach down with your other hand to play with his balls. The added sensation makes him throb instantly in your mouth, and you respond by moaning even more around him. 

Jimin moans your name as he pulls his cock from your mouth. With a few strokes, he releases his warm, white seed onto your face, while you stick out your tongue, eager to catch some of it and swallow. 

He grunts, panting for air, as he empties the last of his release. As he relaxes, you move in to tease the head of his dick with your tongue, playfully licking it like a lollipop. 

Jimin whimpers softly from overstimulation, but his gaze is filled with love and adoration as he looks at you. “My nasty girl,” he murmurs, his voice laced with affection. “You look so beautiful with my cum on your face.” 

He reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. As the fabric slips away, a trail of his seed runs from your face down to your breasts, and he groans at the sight.

He gently pushes you back onto the bed and straddles you, his now softening cock brushing against your skin. You don’t mind; in fact, you savor the intimate moment, the closeness of your bodies, and the tender weight of him on top of you. His gaze locks with yours, filled with affection and desire.

Jimin shifts his position, moving off the bed and sitting down. He then pulls your body closer to him, positioning you so that your pussy is right in front of his face. His eyes light up with hunger and admiration as he takes in the sight of you.

“I’m gonna taste you now, wifey.”

His words send a wave of desire through you, causing your pussy to clench in response. A moan escapes your lips, and you find yourself yearning for the touch of his lips and tongue on your most sensitive spot. 

He wastes no time, immediately diving in with his tongue. His skilled lips find your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. You instinctively wrap your thighs around his head, resting them on his strong shoulders for support. Meanwhile, your hands grip the sheets tightly, holding on for dear life as he works his magic on you. 

Slurping sounds echo through the bedroom, creating a symphony of intimacy and pleasure. Although he’s just begun, you already feel swept away by the sensations he is creating. The intensity of his touch leaves you feeling overwhelmed, as though you're already on the edge of an orgasm.

His tongue vigorously licks your clit, and you find yourself lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. Your wetness amplifies the sensations, making every touch feel intensely magnified. Each stroke of his tongue sends shivers through you.

Jimin’s hands gently part your folds, his touch both tender and purposeful. He lowers his head, his tongue making its way inside you, exploring with an intense, focused attention. The sensation of his tongue entering you sends waves of pleasure through your body, and his expert movements ignite a fire within you. 

“Jimin!” As Jimin’s tongue enters you, you can’t help but scream his name, your voice echoing with a mix of pleasure and overwhelming lust.

The soft muscle of his tongue skillfully dives in and out of your entrance, exploring you deeply as far as his tongue can reach. His nose brushes against your clit with each motion, creating an intoxicating combination of sensations. The precise rhythm of his tongue, paired with the stimulating touch of his nose, drives you wild with pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

The pleasure is overwhelming as you feel a knot tightening in your stomach. Your orgasm begins to build, slowly but powerfully, taking your breath away with each wave of sensation. The anticipation of release makes your body tremble, your senses on high alert as you inch closer to the peak of release.

Jimin pulls away from your pussy, taking a moment to gaze at you. You’re flushed, sweating, and panting heavily from the intense pleasure he’s been giving you. His lower face glistens with your juices, evidence of your intense arousal and his passionate exploration. The sight of him like this, lost in the moment, is slowly making you lose your mind.

“Come on my face, love,” Jimin commands as he moves back to your pussy. He licks and sucks your folds, his mouth working you over with intense precision. One of his hands finds your clit, his deft fingers expertly rubbing the sensitive bud.

The pleasure is overwhelming as you feel your toes curl and your breath grow short and erratic. Your climax hits you like a freight train, the intensity taking you by surprise. You moan his name loudly, surrendering to the ecstasy as you come on his tongue and face. 

He licks you up with an eager intensity, savoring your essence as though he’s drinking you in. 

“Fuck, Jimin,” you pant, your voice laden with satisfaction and awe. Jimin finally pulls away from your now sensitive pussy, his lips lingering for a moment before he moves up beside you on the bed. As he joins you, his presence offers comfort and a sense of closeness, allowing you to bask in the afterglow of the intense pleasure he just brought you. 

Jimin hovers over you, his breath warm against your skin. As you notice his now fully erect cock, he leans down to whisper in your ear, “You made me hard again, wifey.” 

His words send a thrill through you, the playful intimacy of his tone making your pulse quicken. 

“Already?” you pant, a mix of surprise and lust in your voice. 

“Yeah, my wifey just drives me wild,” he groans, his voice thick with lust. 

Oh God, every time he calls you ‘wifey,’ your pussy clenches involuntarily. The sweet intimacy of the term sends a wave of desire through you, and you wonder if he’s aware of the effect it has on you.

Jimin lies down beside you, a playful glint in his eyes and a chuckle of lust escaping his lips. “Come and ride me,” he invites, his tone teasing yet filled with desire. 

Your whole body tingles with anticipation, and even though you’re tired and overwhelmed with lust and love, you find the energy to rise and straddle Jimin. You take his dick in your hand, aligning it with your entrance before slowly lowering yourself onto him. The sensation of him stretching you is intense, the smooth glide enhancing the pleasure for both of you. You savor every inch of him, and the stretch is oh so exquisite and intense. He fills you up completely, an intoxicating pleasure that makes your breath catch and your pulse race.

You brace yourself with your hands on his chiseled chest and begin to ride him, bouncing with a rhythm that matches your pounding heartbeat. The sensation of his cock inside you intensifies with each movement, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. As you shift your weight and grind against him, the pleasure deepens, drawing out gasps and moans from both of you.

“Fuck, my wife is so fucking hot,” Jimin praises, his voice heavy with lust as you ride him. Your pussy tightens around him, and you feel a powerful wave of arousal knowing how much he enjoys watching you take control. The sensation of him inside you is overwhelming, both physically and emotionally, and you know it won’t take much to push you to the brink of another orgasm.

His words of admiration intensify your pleasure, the feeling of his thick cock filling you up adding to your imminent unraveling.

“Jimin, you’re gonna make me come again,” you pant, your voice laced with both pleasure and exhaustion. Though your body feels tired, you continue to ride him, driven by the intense desire to reach another orgasm.

“Are you close?” Jimin asks, his voice thick with lust and anticipation. His intense gaze meets yours, the desire in his eyes mirroring your own. His question fuels your urgency, and you can feel your body tightening with the approach of another climax. 

You nod eagerly, biting your lip to hold back the pleasure, “Yes!” 

Jimin’s fingers find your clit again, and even though you’re sensitive, the sensation is intensely pleasurable. He rubs the nub with expert precision, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through you. The combination of his touch and the fullness inside you brings you to the brink, your body about to erupt like a volcano. 

The pleasure is overwhelming, teetering on the edge of being too intense to take. As you reach your peak, you scream Jimin’s name, your voice echoing through the room. Your climax ripples through you, every nerve ending on fire as your body tightens around his cock. The release is a burst of euphoria, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed by the ecstasy he brings you.

You catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you steady yourself on Jimin’s chest. The afterglow of your climax leaves you feeling both tired and utterly full of love. His warmth beneath your hands grounds you.

“So good, my love. Now relax while I take care of the rest, wifey,” Jimin murmurs with tenderness. He turns you around gently and guides you back onto the mattress, his dick still nestled inside you. As he adjusts his position, he sinks deeper, eliciting a moan from you at the intensity of the sensation.

Jimin pulls your legs to the side, opening you up to him, and then begins to thrust his cock into you with a steady, powerful rhythm. Each thrust fills you deeply, his pace unwavering as he seeks to deliver intense pleasure. 

The hypnotic motion of Jimin’s hips captivates you, each precise movement drawing you deeper into the moment. His scars catch the light as they move with him, a testament to his strength and resilience. There's something truly magical about witnessing this intimate dance, the rhythm of his body resonating with yours. You can’t help but get lost in him, this man who is now your husband, the one who makes your heart race and your soul sing.

You feel as though you can barely withstand the intensity of the experience. It’s not painful—in fact, it’s the opposite. Waves of pleasure ripple through your entire body, creating a sensation that feels simultaneously like floating and drowning in ecstasy. The tingle is unusual, yet deeply satisfying, and you find yourself reveling in the overwhelming delight. The sensation is both exhilarating and surreal, leaving you craving more of this extraordinary feeling.

Jimin lowers his mouth to your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin as he bites and kisses you. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, making you squirm beneath him with a mixture of pleasure and lust.

As he moves up to kiss you deeply on the mouth, the intensity of the moment heightens. The deep, passionate kiss perfectly synchronizes with his thrusts, amplifying the pleasure for both of you. His lips on yours, combined with the intimate rhythm of his body, create an electric connection that leaves you breathless and aching for more.

Your hands grip Jimin’s biceps firmly, drawing him closer to you. When he pulls away for a moment, you lock eyes with him, staring into his deep brown orbs. You see your whole universe reflected in them, and it fuels your desire for more—for everything he can give you.

You can’t take the distance for long, pulling him down to you again and kissing him with an intensity that feels like your life depends on it. The kiss is a passionate, all-consuming expression of your love and need for him, and it binds you even closer together in the moment.

“I’m gonna come soon,” Jimin pants as he pulls back from your kiss. His breathless voice conveys the intensity of his desire, the pleasure he feels evident in his expression, with the way that his nose is scrunching so cutely.

“Come inside and get me pregnant,” you pant, biting your lip and moaning his name.

Jimin’s eyes widen in surprise as he stares at you. “Pregnant? But you’re on the pill,” he blurts out, his expression a mix of shock and wonder.

You squeeze Jimin’s biceps tightly, your voice thick with both love and lust. “Not anymore,” you reveal, a hint of determination in your gaze. “I haven’t been taking them for a month.” 

The weight of your confession hangs in the air, and you can see the surprise in his eyes. 

For a moment, Jimin remains completely still inside you, his eyes locked with yours, reflecting disbelief and a touch of awe. The depth of your confession catches him off guard, and you can see the range of emotions playing across his face. The intimacy of the moment deepens as he processes the significance of your words, the silence charged with anticipation and the weight of what this decision could mean for your future.

“I said I wanted your kids. I wasn’t joking. Now fill me up with your seed, Jimin.”

He slowly starts to move again, his breath coming out in short, measured puffs. Running a hand through his hair, he bites his lip in a mix of concentration and desire, his expression shifting from disbelief to raw, intense passion.

You feel the coil within you tighten rapidly. The pleasure builds swiftly, spiraling out of your control, and you find yourself unable to hold back. Without warning, the coil snaps, sending you crashing into another climax. You clench tightly around his cock, a moan of his name escaping your lips as you surrender to the wave of ecstasy that consumes you.

“Shit,” Jimin groans as your walls tighten around him, hugging his cock close. He thrusts into you a few more times, each movement charged with intensity, before he releases inside you, filling you with his seed. 

Jimin huffs above you, his breathing heavy as he pulls his sweaty bangs away from his face. A wide smile stretches across his lips as he gazes down at you, and you return the smile, your heart overflowing with love. He leans down to kiss you tenderly, his cock still nestled inside you, giving occasional twitches that make you chuckle.

His groan reverberates into your mouth as he whispers, “Wifey, I love you.” 

His voice is husky with emotion, and you can feel the depth of his affection in those simple words. The tenderness of the moment, combined with the enduring intimacy of your bond, envelops you both in a wave of warmth and love.

You chuckle softly, your voice filled with warmth and affection. “Hubby, I love you,” you say, your words a playful echo of his. 

Jimin gently pulls out of you, savoring the moment before he falls to your side, resting beside you. 

You feel some of his seed trickle out of you, but the sensation is a natural part of the intimacy you share, and you embrace it without concern. Turning onto your side, you face Jimin, and he mirrors your movement, meeting your gaze with tenderness. The simple act of being close to him fills you with warmth and satisfaction, the afterglow of your love making soothing your body and soul.

He notices the lingering traces of his seed on your face and gently brushes it away with his fingers, chuckling softly. “You still have some semen on your face,” he remarks playfully, his touch light and tender. “But you still look incredibly hot.” 

“And I’m sorry about your neck—it’s kinda purple now,” Jimin says with a chuckle, his fingers lightly tracing over the tender spot. You move closer to him, your hand finding his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. 

“I don’t mind,” you reassure him with a loving tone and a gentle smile. Your words are filled with warmth and acceptance, conveying that the marks are a sign of your closeness and shared passion. 

“We should probably clean up,” Jimin suggests, beginning to rise, but you stop him with a firm squeeze of your hand on his bicep.

“No, please just stay here with me. We can take a bath together later,” you plead, your voice soft and filled with affection. Jimin sees the warmth in your eyes and smiles, giving in to your request. He settles back down beside you, wrapping an arm around you. The comfort of being close and the promise of a relaxing bath later creates a sense of serenity, allowing you both to enjoy the moment of rest and closeness.

“You know, your vows were really beautiful,” Jimin says, his voice gentle and filled with exhaustion, love, and happiness. His words carry the depth of his appreciation for the heartfelt promises you made to him, reflecting the strong emotional bond you share. 

“Thank you. So were yours,” you murmur, leaning in to capture his plush lips in a tender, lingering kiss. The soft press of your lips expresses your appreciation and love, deepening the intimate bond between you and making the moment all the more special.

Jimin gently runs his hand through your hair, his touch soothing and affectionate. “What you said about home—I think you’re right,” he says, his voice soft and filled with contemplation. 

You give Jimin a questioning look. “Which part?” you ask, curiosity evident in your tone. Your eyes search his face, eager to understand which aspect of your heartfelt vows resonated most with him. 

Jimin takes a deep breath, filling his chest with the love that lingers in the air between you. “Home is where my heart is, and my heart is with you,” he says, his voice filled with emotion. His words echo your own from earlier, emphasizing the profound bond and shared understanding you have found in each other. 

“Oh, that part,” you chuckle, seeing Jimin’s eyes well up with tears once more. Your heart swells with affection as you lean in to kiss him. The soft brush of your lips against his ignites a cascade of tender, heartfelt kisses—one after another, until you lose count of how many times your lips have met. 

With your hands, you cup Jimin’s cheeks, feeling the warmth of his skin against your palms. His musky scent envelops you, filling you with a sense of deep contentment and love like you’ve never known before. Your heart seems to beat in perfect sync with his, an unspoken rhythm that binds you together.

His eyes shimmer with tears, but you find solace in the fact that you have each other. The unbreakable bond between you brings a profound sense of peace. You know with certainty that you will share your lives, facing whatever comes together. This bond is more than just love; it’s a soul-deep recognition that you have married your true soulmate.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (in a few days I’ll write the epilogue) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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[cades-outsider]

Robby Keene X Reader

Warnings: None, it’s mainly just fluff! This is S3 because I am IN LOVE with S3 Robby!

Side Note: I am not stopping the Cobra Kai writings! I am going to be focusing on Milo Manheim characters as well, so if you like any of his characters, send in requests! I have a special Ryan Baker smut coming up! 😩🤚

Your heart raced as you walked down the halls of the juvenile detention center in which they were holding Robby, a guard escorting you to your destination. Going through two big white double doors, catching the attention of a bunch of juvie inmates.

A bunch of squared silver chairs and tables came into view, but it seemed as if time had stopped once you spotted Robby, his hands covering his mouth anxiously waiting. Bobby, one of Johnny's best friends sat beside him. He was the one who was able to get you in to see Robby so soon, apparently you weren't old enough to visit him by yourself. Which you thought was stupid.

With every walk towards Robby your body was shaking, you were nervous. Not because of what happened that led him in here, but because of how he would react to you wanting to see him.

Bobby's head perked up as he seen you, he waved you over with a soft smile causing Robby to turn around. His lips parted as he was in shock, surprised that you actually showed. But more importantly shocked that you actually wanted to see him after what happened.

Robby stood up slowly as you walked closer to him, you couldn't hug because of the no touching rule. But you wanted to, and by his reaction you knew he wanted to as well.

You smiled at Bobby as he led you to take a seat beside him, Robby turned back around and took his seat, lips still parted, too shocked to speak.

Bobby looked back and forth at you both awkwardly for a moment before pointing behind him "I'll let you guys.... catch up" He spoke before walking away.

"You're- you're here...." Robby said lowly, as if in disbelief. He wouldn't have blamed you for not coming.

"I'm always here for you Robby..." You placed your elbows on the silver table, resting your chin on your hand.

Your eyes couldn't escape his, you had missed him so much and you didn't want to look away. The slightest smile fell across Robby's lips as he cleared his throat.

"So... what have you been up too?" He questions, wanting to know if you've been okay.

"Missing you" You crack a smile with your answer.

Robby let's out a small chuckle, with a side smile "besides that..." He jokes lightly.

You sigh, pretending to think "nothing too interesting, everything's pretty much been quiet" Your tone changes with every word you speak. It's as if Robby sensed your emotions, he raised his eyebrows and looked down slightly, disappointed with himself.

"Is... is Miguel okay?" Robby questions nervously, bitting his fingernail as he looks up at you. Almost not wanting to know the answer to that question.

"He's okay Robby, he's healing" You tell him sincerely.

You could see the pure guilt written on his face, the regret. "Hey..." You grab his hand that was laying on the table, completely disregarding the rules.

"I don't blame you for any of it... I know you would take it all back in a heart beat if you could, but it'll be okay..." You said lovingly. But you also didn't quite know what to say, you hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Robby's eyes bore into yours, you start rethinking your words for a moment until he nods his head, closing his eyes. A small tear rolling down his cheek.

Your hand finds its way to his right cheek, wiping the tear away gently. Your thumb runs over the purple and red bruise that lied there.

"What happened...?" You basically whisper.

"Just a couple of guys. No big deal" He tries to speak as convincing as possible, you could tell there was more to it but you decide not to push him further.

"I miss you Robby... a lot" You say, placing both of your hands on top of his free hand.

"I miss you too..." Robby says, his side smile starting to show.

Soon your sincere moment is broken up by Bobby placing his hand on your shoulder letting you know that your time was up. You nod letting him know you got the message, before turning back to Robby.

"I don't know when or if I'll be able to come back and visit you, but I'll be here to pick you up when you get out" You say, a small smile falling across your lips.

Robby nods his head in understanding, his heart leaping at such a promise. Though apart of him didn't expect you to keep it. Bobby and some of the guards lead you out of the waiting room, your eyes stayed glued to his as much as they could. You could feel Robby’s stare on you, and you knew that his eyes were still trained on the metal doors even when you were out of his sight.

*THREE MONTHS LATER*

Pulling up your car into one of the driveways at the detention center you spot both Daniel LaRusso and Johnny Lawrence at the doors, bickering. Daniel was your dad and Johnny was Robby's dad. You let out a sigh as you step out of your car, leaning on the side of it. You watched as Johnny and Daniel kept yelling at eachother.

"So you got it all under control?" Daniel interrogates.

"Yeah, I do." Johnny nods his head.

"Just like you had Kreese under control? Right?-" Daniel pauses. "-what did you think would happen when you summoned that devil back to earth?" He finishes, almost as if it was a rhetorical question.

"Kreese is my problem" Johnny states, tilting his head up.

"Not anymore. He's made it crystal clear that he's everyone's problem... as usual I'm gonna have to be the one that cleans up your mess" Daniel sighs.

"I clean up my own messes.... and I'm dealing with it" Johnny says louder, walking up to Daniel.

"Yeah and how exactly are you dealing with it? What are you gonna do, barge in there and beat him up. That worked real well with the guys at the chop-shop" Daniel smart mouths, using his hands as references.

"Those guys deserved it..." Johnny says.

"That's your problem Johnny..." Daniel starts, but before he could finish you drown them out, rolling your eyes at their antics, they acted like they were teenagers all over again.

"Seriously?" You hear a familiar voice interrupt the two kids.

You perk up leaning off your car and getting a good look at Robby, "Robby..." Daniel says, turning to look at him.

"Hey Robby" Johnny says as Robby takes a few steps closer to try and pass them, not yet spotting you.

Robby looks at Johnny "I told you i don't want you here." He says nodding his head upwards as if pointing to Johnny.

"You're my son, I wanted to be here" Johnny says 'as a matter of fact'.

"and so did I..." Daniel speaks up.

Robby turns to look at his and squints his eyes "Don't do me any favors, it's your fault I was in here" He blames.

"Listen I know you're upset but I was doing what was best for you...-" Daniel starts as Robby rolls his eyes, looking away "now that you're here I want you to know you'll always have a home at Miyagi Do." Daniel says sincerely.

Johnny steps up demandingly "you're with me." He says.

Robby looks back and forth at the two of them, pursing his lips, an angry expression on his face "both of you. Stay out of my life" He says before walking off.

He stops in his tracks as he makes eye contact with you, both Daniel and Johnny stop their staring contest with each other and turn towards you, just now noticing your presence. "Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?!" Daniel yells from afar.

"I came to pick up my boyfriend" You say as if it was a stupid question to ask. You see Robby let out a small side smile as you make eye contact with him once again, you smile and nod your head to your car. "You coming?" You question, a small smile placed on your face.

Robby nods his head as he walks over to the passengers side and takes his seat, you doing the same in the drivers side. You pass by Johnny and Daniel, both of them looking baffled. Daniel had a look of defeat and annoyance on his face, while Johnny’s face held a grin. He always liked you, despite your dads and his rivalry.

You make it down the road before looking over at Robby, "Thanks for coming Y/n..." He says as he sinks back in his seat.

"Of course babe, I wasn't gonna miss coming to get you" You smile, turning on a green light.

You look over for just a split second to catch Robby's side smile, "you hungry?" You question, looking back at him on a red light. "I could eat" He replies before resting his arm against the door, looking out the window.

You decided not to rush him into talking. You didn't want to overwhelm him, especially after what just happened moments before. Instead, you drove to In-n-Out.

You decided to drive to Miyagi Do, you knew nobody would be there at this time of day and you wanted a place to eat and talk alone with Robby. You parked your car horizontal to the dojo. You handed Robby his food and ate in silence for the first few minutes.

After Robby finished his food you decided to wrap the rest of yours up and put it back in the paper bag. You could feel Robby practically staring daggers into your head.

"Why did you come?" He finally spoke up.

You look up at him confused by his question, "what do you mean Robby?" You asked, furrowing your brows.

"That day, with Bobby. Why did you come?" He clarifies.

"Because I love you Robby" You state, staring into his eyes that are scrunched up in confusion.

"Did you not want me to come...?" You couldn't help but ask.

"It's not that, I just... no one's ever showed up for me like that and I just wanted to know why.... especially after what I did" Robby says, breaking eye contact to look at the floorboard.

"Robby... what happened was horrible, but I'm always going to be in your corner. I'm always going to be there for you" You say, as Robby feels his heart skip a beat.

He finally manages to look you back in your eyes and when you get to see his face, his eyes are filled with tears that won't stop rushing down. The small bags under his eyes are slightly red, as he finally reveals his vulnerable self to you.

"I need you Y/n" He cries, and you take that as your sign to unbuckle your seat and place yourself in Robby's lap.

His hands hold onto your waist for dear life as he looks up, and into your eyes. You place your right hand against his face, rubbing your thumb back and forth on his soft skin.

Your legs wrap firmly around Robby's waist as you place your lips on his. His lips fight with yours as his tears fall against both of your lips, it becomes messy and filled with love.

Robby pulls away to lean his forehead against yours, both his hands now holding onto the sides of your face only for his lips to be back on yours "I love you" he mumbles against your lips.

"I love you Robby" Your voice comes out as a whisper against his lips.

You pull away from his lips, your eyes gazing over every inch of his face, Robby's eyes are still closed as another tear rolls down his face. You take that as your sign to tightly embrace him in a hug.

His arms wrap firmly around your waist, hands resting on your back as he lets his head fall onto your shoulder, his body starts shaking as he starts crying harder, holding onto you for dear life.

  You stay like that for a while, until his breathing calms down and his tears fade away. Still on his lap, you pull away from the hug while his hands drop down to your waist.

  Robby's glossy eyes meet yours "I have something for you" You say before lightly placing your lips on his for a brief moment before getting off his lap and returning back to the drivers seat.

  You don't give him a chance to speak before you're already driving away from Miyagi Do. A little while later you pull up to his old apartment building.

  Robby looks at the building and back to you with a confused look on his face as you park the car. "Come on, it's just in here" You give him a small, innocent smile.

  You both get out the car, grabbing Robby's hand you walk into the complex and in the elevator to his apartment door. You grab the keys out of your back pocket and unlock the door, letting Robby in first.

  "Y/n what is this?" Robby questions looking around the apartment, as he noticed how clean and kept up it looked.

  "Well... while you were in juvie I decided to fix it up for you, I got permission from your mom and everything's taken care of, the fridge is full of food and the rents payed off for a while, so you don't have to worry about anything" You explain while you close the apartment door. You knew your dad, Daniel, would have some words to say about it, but you didn’t care, Robby needed someone, he needed you.

  Robby takes in every detail of the apartment until you're his main focus, your nerves start to take over as he walks up to you. He brings his hand to your cheek, his thumb moves back and forth in slow motions. His eyes move back and forth to yours and your lips.

  He's lost for words, but he manages to speak "you didn't have to do this, I could've figured something out on my own..." Robby says. Every part of him wanted to reject the offer, fearing it was out of pity but he knew by the sweetness in your voice that you truly just wanted to be there for him. Help him.

  "I know, but now you don't have to worry about that" You give him a small smile as you speak.

You don't give him the chance to say anything before you speak again "I want to help you Robby, not because of pity or feeling like I have too, but because I love you an-" Your sentence is cut off by Robby's lips on yours.

Both of his hands are now grasping your face, his lips move against yours with so much love and compassion as he pushes you up against the door. Your right hand goes to his shoulder as your left hand rests on his jaw.

You both make out for a while, it wasn’t any regular heated make out. No…. It was filled with love, warmth, and desperation. This was Robby’s way of saying thank you. You didn’t know what would happen in the future, or where this teenage love would lead you both, but you were more than willing to love him with every fiber in your body.

You were willing to be there for him.

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