#this is so bad but i spent an hour on it so

[sehodreams]

cherry blossom scars

TW and tags: tattoo artist!Wonbin x insecure!reader, surgery scar, pierced nipples, nipple play, mutual masturbation, tons of overthinking and word vomiting, corny as hell, fluff, kind of dom reader but not much.

WC: 9.3k

Comment: hi guys, I made brief descriptions of the scar, to be honest, I don’t have one or ever had surgery, so I’m not exactly sure how one would look, I just saw a couple of pictures on the internet and wanted to write something about it, hope it’s okay. I didn’t sleep at all to finish it because I knew I’d leave it in a draft if I didn’t write it in one go. Probably has mistakes and inconsistencies. I don’t know anything about piercings, tattoos, or early education.

While growing up, as weird as it sounds, summer was your favourite season. You remember a lot of things about it, how your parents would drive to the coast to spend the day at the beach, playing in the water with the friend your parents had agreed to take with you, and eating the most boring sandwich your mother could make in a busy morning that felt like a feast in your mouth after swimming for hours.

It was all good, until you started to grow up. Your parents had no time to take you anymore, your friends had better things to do, and you had entered the phase of your life in which you hated the idea of wearing a swimsuit if you weren’t perfect.

Perfection is, as you thought after a particular summer, simply not you.

Perhaps your mother hadn’t said it with bad intentions, she was your mother after all, and you were sure she loved you, but that little phrase had impregnated your head like the gum on your head one of the boys in class thought it looked good smeared on your hair.

‘’I don’t think you should wear this blouse doll’’ she said, showing you her selection instead.

‘’Why? I like it, and it’s too hot to wear normal shirts’’ you replied, feeling your arms sweat just with the simple action of changing into the clothes you were wearing.

‘’It’s just… the scar is showing’’ she said, pointing at the line that went from the start of your shoulder to the middle of your chest.

It was a long line, thick, slightly red and purple, noticeable from the way it would get deeper into your smooth skin, surrounded with thin little lines that looked like roots expanding to grow. You were just fourteen, not thinking much of it; actually, not even thinking about it until she talked about it.

You spent the summer with short-sleeved shirts, leaving all the dresses with thin straps and anything that showed your cleavage behind. You could, never again, wear anything that did.

It didn’t matter how many creams your mother bought, or how many treatments in clinics you received, it stayed there with you, like a mark of how fragile your body was, and how easily you could break with a simple fall.

You had gotten hurt after biking with your friends and making a wrong turn. You fell with a strong thud, and you don’t remember much about what happened that day anymore, because when you were conscious again, you already had the scar there. Less to say your parents banned you from riding a bicycle ever again.

So, it’s not difficult to guess why you hate summer now. You can’t wear the clothes you want, you’re a broke college student living alone with no AC, and you have to walk everywhere with the fear of getting a heatstroke.

To your luck, or disgrace, today you run out of clean t-shirts acceptable for the weather, and you simply refuse to wear a long-sleeved one, resolving to grab one of the thin straps that you usually wear when you’re alone in your room.

You don’t think much about it. You’re going to your friend’s place, and she should have a shirt to lend you around there. Still, not even the thought makes the journey bearable.

You’re anxious in your seat, listening to some podcast you had found about old music (you don’t know if to call it old since it’s the 90s, but your friends didn’t even watch programs that weren’t from your century, so to avoid all explanation you simply say you like old music), when you feel weirdly observed.

Looking in front of you, a mother is carrying his child in her arms, who is looking intensely at you. You smile because the kid is cute. He has big eyes, almost black, and chubby cheeks. He must be at least four years old, and when you wave your hand to say hi, he points at your chest. You know what he’s pointing, and you nod as if you explained everything with that move.

When the mother turns at you, directing her eyes at what her son is watching, and sees you, she smiles and then her face falls, almost as abruptly as you did that day from your bicycle, and she apologizes for her son.

‘’He didn’t do anything’’ you say, and she denies it.

‘’He shouldn’t be looking at you like that’’ she answers.

‘’Why?’’ you ask.

‘’Because…’’ she can’t finish her sentence. You kind of know what she refers to. Because you’re hurt, and we can all see it. You almost want to correct the words she didn’t say because the kid doesn’t look at you as if you were a monster, he’s just curious, while she is the one doing it.

‘’He’s cute’’ you say instead.

‘’Thank you’’ she answers.

‘’Be careful when he grows up’’ you say. ‘’Because…’’

Because he could look like me it’s implied, and the mother looks at you horrified, as if you had just cursed his son. She quickly gets up and presses the button to get off the bus with such desperation you feel bad for having talked more than necessary.

When you go back to your own thing, you notice something weird again. You lift your eyes, finding the seat in front of you, in which the mother had been sitting just seconds before, empty, and a man beside you. When you meet his eyes he smiles at you, a big grin with no teeth, he’s obviously older than you, with lines of age on his face, normal looking, almost kind, and then, in front of your face, he moves his eyes down to your chest.

Great, now you didn’t have to deal with people staring at your scar, now you had to deal with old men staring at your tits too.

You feel so creeped out by it that you get up and press the button for the next stop. It’s not your stop, but now you can understand why the mother was so desperate to get off. A creep, as normal as they look, it’s still a creep.

Walking the streets at a fast pace, you try to arrive at your friend’s place as soon as possible. You feel even more observed, perhaps it’s because you’re almost running at 36oC and you’re sweating your ass off, but you think it’s because of your uncovered cleavage.

The minute you arrive you start telling your friend everything, from the cute kid to the disgusting man, and she tells you that people usually act dumb, doesn’t matter how you look, people are just people.

‘’It’s their nature, they’re programmed to act like fools, especially men’’ your friend says.

‘’Well, they’re fucking disgusting’’ you answer, grabbing one of her t-shirts and sliding into it to cover yourself like you usually do.

‘’Boys will be boys’’ she finishes, and then she rushes you to finally leave.

You have to go to a pool party (a private party he has clarified), and you honestly would’ve refused on any other occasion, but Sungchan, the owner of the house and your friend’s boyfriend, was cool enough to not force you to go in when you said you weren’t fond of swimming, nodding in understanding as if you had told him the entire story tale of your life, which was kind of comforting.

Also, since he lives with his parents, he has AC.

At the party, a couple of hours later, when almost everyone is outside enjoying the water, you’re left alone in charge of the snacks and drinks, mixing shit as if you knew what you were doing.

‘’Could I have some of that?’’ one of Sungchan’s friends asks, pointing at the jug you’re holding. You nod, you have no reason to say no, and when he takes a sip of it his eyebrow frowns for a second before he smiles. ‘’Wow, that’s… good.’’

You know it’s not, it’s just rum coke with too much rum and almost no limes, to which you decide to add a bit of sprite to see if it does the gig. It doesn’t, but it could punch anyone into not asking for more and you nod content at the result.

‘’Thanks, I should probably make a career of it’’ you answer.

He flashes you a smile before he grabs a can of Coke to sip it. ‘’Sure, if your goal is to hook more people into going to A.A meetings’’ he says while opening a bag of salt and vinegar chips. ‘’I’m Wonbin’’ he smiles.

You tell him your name and serve yourself a cup too. You try to secretly add more ice to your drink, and he laughs louder when he catches you feigning you were getting ice for the whole jug.

‘’I’ll be honest, I feel like I’ve seen you before’’ he says then.

‘’Well, we’re kind of connected through the couple there, perhaps we crossed each other’’ your finger directs at your friend over Sungchan’s shoulders, laughing and screaming something you can’t understand with the music on out there.

‘’True, but not only that… weren’t you last week at the tattoo shop right next to the bookstore that sells old books no one reads?’’ he takes a sip of the drink with more ice, and he denies, adding the rest of the can of coke he had opened.

‘’Do you mean the Rip Tree? I mean, it’s not Barnes and Noble, but it does the job. I got a nice copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray for four dollars there, and they gave me a bunch of bookmarks for free. Of course, they had the publicity of a nursing home in the back, but I’m sure it’s a completely respectable place to read books at’’ you answer immediately, adding rum to the jug when he laughs so hard his head falls back and his eyes close.

When he leans more to the front and you see his arms flexing, you can’t help but suddenly feel conscious of how much you’re talking to a boy you have just met so freely. Maybe you’ve had too many trial drinks while you were mixing and it had started to get in your head without noticing, it wouldn’t be the first time, and sure wouldn’t be the last time.

He smiles at you with a closed mouth, just like the man you had met on the bus many hours before, but you like this smile. Wonbin, unlike the older man, looks at your face without trailing down.

‘’Well, were you?’’ he asks.

‘’Where?’’ you ask too, because half of the conversation you were having just disappeared from your head when you saw his necklace, almost as pretty as him, glint.

‘’The Ink, the tattoo shop’’ he repeats.

‘’Oh, well yeah, but I just went in because I was curious.’’

You’re lying. You hate lying, but again, you didn’t feel like telling someone you just met your whole life.

You had seen on the internet how some people covered their scars with tattoos, which honestly, seemed like a great solution to your esthetic situation. However, when you crossed the door all your bravery went to hell, especially when the gorgeous admin asked you to see it and then the next time told you that a skin-colour tattoo wouldn’t be possible in your case since the scar was too dark, and that a much better option would be to get one with colours. Obviously, she didn’t know your parents or your career, because who the hell will want to hire a preschool teacher with a colored tattoo? You could already hear the comments, you being so silly to try to cover a scar with a new one, and how improper was for a lady, a teacher, to have one.

He nods at your answer. ‘’Well, was it worth it?’’ he asks.

‘’What? Going in? I guess so, it’s a nice place, a bunch of colours and great walls, they have some interesting draws too’’ you say, also leaning and grabbing a few chips to eat while talking.

Your hand almost meets his when you reach the bag again, and you look at each other’s eyes. He smiles again and you get shy at being that close to him again, pushing your hand into the bag to pretend you didn’t feel your stomach flutter with that silly interaction. He lets you put your hand in first, and then he grabs a couple more, eating them slowly, looking as if he was thinking about something else.

Michael Jackson starts to sound in the background, and you bob your head as instinct to the rhythm.

‘’Didn’t take you for a Thriller girl’’ he says, tilting his head and grinning.

‘’Because I’m not, I’m a Rock with You girl, sometimes a Dirty Diana one too’’ you answer, happy to talk a bit about music you like. Your friends don’t like him that much, but they let you sneak a few songs into the shared playlist, and that’s enough for you.

However, you didn’t choose Thriller for this playlist.

‘’I guess you’re the Thriller guy then’’ you say.

‘’Yeah, I’m a failure’’ he stands, grabbing his cup and sipping before he continues. ‘’But I’d like to hear you teaching me something about him, so I stop being one.’’

Smooth Criminal, you think, letting him guide you to the couch.

While talking, you don’t even realize how much time has passed until you hear the laughs fall and some of Sungchan guests start leaving. The day is well behind, an orange sky out there at 6 pm, and you don’t want to go home.

Your friend had come with Sungchan to say goodbye to some people, and when she asks you if you’re tired, you say that you’re okay, just a little hungry. She nods and orders a couple of pizzas with Sungchan’s phone since hers is connected to the speakers outside.

There are only like 7 people left, including you and Wonbin, who decide to stay on the couch with you when another boy, Sohee, tells him that going to the jacuzzi to submerge his feet should be fine.

You don’t think much about what Sohee says, but you’re too cosy with Wonbin to even think at all.

‘’Won’t you ask why he said that?’’ Wonbin says when you’re alone again.

‘’None of my business’’ you say.

‘’I’m a bit curious though, if you don’t mind me asking why you would prefer to stay here in charge of the bar, because as much as I like your drinks, I don’t think you’re used to staying still in charge of things like this at parties.’’

‘’Well, you’re wrong about that, I enjoy being in charge a lot, and I can do it for many hours’’ you say, not noticing how odd it sounds. He looks a bit shocked at first, and then laughs hard. You can’t go back in time to correct yourself, so you laugh with him.

You start to think that maybe you can tell him, it’s not the end of the world, but you can’t even think about revealing something that deep to him. Well, it’s not that deep, you showed it to your friend literally the day you met her. You were in the cafeteria when you spilt your milkshake over your sweater, so you had no option but to change, and you somehow knew she would be your friend when she laughed and told you to grab her sweater if you were that cold, so you showed it to her.

Still, Wonbin is so pretty, even his teeth when he laughed were pretty, and you couldn’t imagine what he would think if he knew.

You don’t imagine a whole relationship with him to think about his opinion too highly, but there is interest, and you want to keep it there as long as you can.

Being your age and haven’t fucked a boyfriend under the light, you simply couldn’t feel comfortable enough to show it to a boy you barely knew and kind of liked.

‘’Just because’’ you say.

‘’I see’’ he says, knowing there’s something you don’t want to tell him. ‘’Well, a win for me anyways, I’ve learned a lot in just an afternoon’’ he says, making you sigh, glad he changes the subject.

‘’I’m glad I was able to tell you everything Wikipedia has about the most known person in the world’’ you haven’t even stayed on the topic for too long for him to learn something, you just said what songs you liked, then showed him some playlists and laughed when you had songs in common, mentioning little moments you remember while listening to them, like not being able to remember your lines in a school play when they suddenly put Beat It as background music, or playing The Way You Make Me Feel in the speaker when one of your friends wanted to confess to a girl (she rejected them so it’s banned from every shared playlist). You shake your head with a smile, not looking at him when one of his hands gets closer to you, resting behind you on the couch.

Oh, you say in your head. You don’t know how close you’ll let him get, but it feels so right.

You haven’t talked (kind of flirted, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself) with a boy that long in years. You kind of remember Anton from your Art, Music & Movement course with whom you went on a couple (unofficial) dates until he took an exchange program and had to leave for a whole year. Then you remember talking to Seunghan, a guy who gave you his spot in the queue for the bathroom at a concert and with whom you exchanged numbers after he bought you a really overpriced burrito, but he lived two hours away, and you had no energy or time to really be something. And then, then you got no one else.

The room is quiet, you notice. He’s not talking, and neither are you, so you fall into a comfortable silence. You hope he’s not tired yet, you’re not, but maybe your social battery has just died, so you lean into his side a bit more, letting your body relax and your head touches his arm behind you.

He looks at you with a small smile, and you start to inspect his face like you feel he’s doing with yours. He has dark eyelashes, thin, but they’re enough to mark his eyes, and they go well with his black hair. You also notice that his hair is shorter on the back and longer on the front, letting some locks fall around, creating little shadows over his face and covering the end of his eyes. He looks really good with the haircut, but you’ve seen him in pictures with Sungchan before, and he honestly always looks good.

Your eyes fall to his chest because you don’t want to make the moment awkward.

What he’s wearing is simple, a black shirt without sleeves that shows his well-toned arms, skin smooth, almost too perfect, and you can’t help but remind yourself how you’re not as perfect as him.

You doubt he has any flaw like yours, and you don’t mean a weird-looking mole or a scar that anyone could have from childhood, yours is different, too noticeable, impossible to ignore. His whole body was an uninterrupted harmony you couldn’t relate to.

Wait, you stop yourself from thinking too far away. What’s that?

You notice that there, in his chest, under the fabric of his tank top, there’s a bulge you haven’t noticed before, and it’s not his nipples, you’re completely sure of that.

Boys will be boys, and the words of your friend start to echo in your head.

You always hated that phrase. How could they all be so brute and inconsiderate of everyone else that weren’t themselves? The lack of respect to stare at your chest without a care of you disgusted you just hours ago.

And now, you start to ponder if, perhaps, in the end, you’re as brute as the man you met on the bus.

Poor Wonbin is finally filing the silence with something about how he had found a new band not long ago, giving you the exact same charming smile he’s had the whole afternoon, flirty but respectful, making you feel almost guilty from not being able to concentrate on the conversation, too busy trying to not stare at his chest.

You blink twice, trying to look at his eyes again.

It doesn’t work. You can’t ignore it.

It was impossible. They were there, standing under his shirt, calling for you to look at them.

Coughing, you move from the touch of his hand behind you, almost as if it burned you, and drink the almost pure water from the ice that melted in your cup.

You scold yourself. I’m not better than a man, you say in your mind before finishing the opaque result of water, rum and coke in your hand in one go, and then, not having anything else to distract yourself with, you bite the inside of your cheek to distract yourself with the pain.

‘’Sorry, am I boring you?’’ he says not much later, feeling the change in your behaviour.

‘’Eh?’’ you say, turning your body in his direction again.

You notice that his cheeks have a pretty reddish flush, and he stays still, letting you stare, waiting for you to talk. Without a doubt, he was one of the prettiest boys you’ve ever met, and in that moment, you were too dazed into him and his stupid pierced nipples to talk to him as easily as you’d been doing when you didn’t know about their existence.

‘’No’’ you finally say. ‘’I’m sorry, that was rude of me, I had other things on my mind.’’

‘’Like what?’’

You don’t expect him to lean even more into your space and show more interest in what you’ve been thinking about, making you more nervous for not being able to concentrate on another thing that wasn’t him and his pierced nipples so close.

It’s stupid, you can’t help but think. You’re treating him differently. You’ve changed after finding out he has pierced nipples, and it’s exactly what you don’t want to happen to you when people find out about your scar.

‘’Your cheek’’ his hand moves to your face, startling you since he hadn’t touched you that directly the whole night, and with his thumb he caressed the cheek you were obviously biting from the inside. ‘’Doesn’t it hurt?’’ he asks.

You gulp. ‘’Not really.’’

He hums, smiling even more when you move your eyes from his face to his chest, and then, after awkwardly blinking a couple times, looking down to your lap.

A strand of your hair falls out of the lame excuse of a hairstyle you tried to do (not daring to use a ponytail to a party and loose hair with the hot weather) over your face when you look down, and his hand moves on its own to accommodate it behind your ear, the pad of his finger slowly brushing a spot you didn’t know you like, making you melt with his touch like a popsicle in the street at 2PM.

 ‘’It doesn’t hurt either’’ he says. ‘’If you were curious.’’

Not understanding what he’s referring to, you give him a confused look.

‘’What doesn’t hurt?’’ you ask him.

‘’The piercings’’ he answers, laughing when your cheeks get red, and you shake your head to say no.

‘’I-‘’ I wasn’t looking at them, you want to say. It was just untrue, and denying something you’ve clearly been doing since you noticed them would make you look even more pathetic. So, deciding to be different from the shameless man who never apologized to you, you prefer to be honest. ‘’I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have looked at them like that’’.

‘’Why?’’ he asks, and you feel a sense of deja vu.

‘’It’s rude, to stare at your chest’’ you clarify. ’’At least, uninvited.’’

He looks as if he’s enjoying seeing you that embarrassed, almost as pleased as when you bravely talked to him at the bar, when you remember applauding your mind for creating fresh answers. At that moment, your brain seems to have suffered from all the rum you’ve had since you arrived, so it can’t change the subject or give you a quick joke to make the moment less humiliating.

‘’It’s okay, I don’t mind’’ he denies with a breathy laugh, hand moving down from near your face to your arm, sliding until he finds yours, interlocking fingers when he does. ‘’I invite you to do it, then.’’

‘’What?’’ your eyes become bigger and everything around you, mute.

You see his mouth moving and saying something like, I can show them to you, if you want, before he, not waiting for an answer, makes you stand with him. You can’t see what he says after that when he looks back to the crystal door separating you two from the others outside, and then without doubt he makes you follow him.

It wasn’t his place, yet he moved with enough confidence as if it was, dragging you by the hand to the second floor, a place you had never seen even with your constant visits to the place of your friend’s boyfriend. You always stuck to the first floor, not wanting to cross any boundaries with Sungchan, so you feel as if you’re seeing something you shouldn’t when on the second floor, after walking upstairs, you’re received with tons of family portraits showing you his childhood.

You don’t say anything, you let him move you until you both enter a bathroom you’ve never been to. Closing the door, suddenly you can hear again when you recognize the faint sound of music coming from downstairs and some people laughing.

‘’We have to be quick’’ you hear him say after he presses the secure of the door.

The bathroom is smaller than the one on the first floor, almost tiny. There’s only a sink and a WC besides, with a towel hanger under the light and a mirror over the sink. You can hear the vents working when he turns on the light, but you’re too distracted with his whole body trapping you between him and the sink, not giving you opportunity to put any space between you two, to care.

When he shows you a cheeky grin after you lean more into the sink to put a centimetre more between you, nervous of being there with him, close, and obviously about to do something you’re not used to do with people you’ve just met, you don’t care anymore.

His lips are pink and glowing after he licks them, and he’s too pretty for you to say no.

He moves your left hand to his covered chest, and you have to contain the surprised whimper your throat almost lets out when you feel the little thing that has caught your interest since you recognized it.

One of your hands is gripping the marble of the sink with force to maintain you sane, and it works, until he sighs when you flick it.

His face still has that cheekiness that you had understood, from your time talking, characterized him, but it was now mixed with desire, leaving behind the whole courtesy, making him look even better in front of your eyes.

You become needier, if he looks that good with just a flick, you can’t imagine how would he look if you two did more.

‘’Take it off’’ you urge him, not caring that the tone of your voice makes it seem almost an order.

The hand previously glued to the cold surface moves to the border of his shirt, feeling like a punch the warmness of his skin, pushing it up so he does what you asked faster.

‘’Shit’’ he grins, lifting his arms and allowing you to take it off for him. ‘’What happened to the timid girl from before?’’

‘’I’m not usually like this, I swear’’ you say. You want to tell him that no one had made you that eager before, even less with just a look, but again, you had never met anyone, especially a man, with pierced nipples, so he should understand your curiosity when you admire his naked chest and lick your lips before you look at his eyes again.

Growing up as a woman, you have seen firsthand how a good pair of tits could make the smartest and most respectful man a complete asshole. Even the most respectful men that you had gladly called your friends, have been caught by your always wary eyes looking at other women’s chests.

You don’t wear cleavage, so it doesn’t happen to you that much, but just that day a man did it on the bus, like a primitive caveman, a beast, and it’s so embarrassing that you’re acting like one of them in that moment.

Surely, Darwin would be especially disappointed with your regression as a human, but, in your favour, everyone becomes monkeys with the quantity of alcohol you’ve had that afternoon. Also, the weather has a lot to do too, because if it wasn’t that hot, Wonbin wouldn’t have been wearing a tank top, therefore, he wouldn’t have left his ample chest on your eyesight, and that has nothing to do with you. It was all climate change, so perhaps even Darwin would’ve forgiven you for wanting to lick some man’s nipples.

The rum in your system makes your mind babble nonsense and you have to shut your mind for a second. But you want to lick them so bad. You never thought you could fall that low, but there you are, in a bathroom only used to shit at, trying to not moan just from the sight of those pink nipples with little silver beams pointing at you.

‘’I believe you’’ he sighs with a smile, moving further to the wall behind him so you could see his chest better.

You can’t believe your eyes.

You can see the metallic object break through the pink flesh, two tiny spheres on each end of it to not let it move from its place, and you can officially say you have never seen anything that hot in your life.

Hypnotized by the way the object sparkles with the warm light above you two, you timidly move your index fingers to flick them again, making him breathe through his nose and bite his lip to contain himself.

‘’Do they feel good?’’ your curiosity, instead of getting satiated, is growing, and you have tons of questions appearing in your mind.

‘’Per se… sometimes, when I get conscious of them’’ he admits. ‘’But I usually have to touch them if I want to feel something’’.

You flick them again, to then grip them with your index and middle finger and, slightly, almost with fear, twirl them. ‘’Is this okay?’’ you ask, gulping the saliva accumulating in your mouth.

‘’Yeah, that feels good’’ he assures you, both of his hands going to your hips to maintain you in place while his head falls to the wall behind, and he closes his eyes.

You keep doing the same motion, loving the sighs that he leaves out and how a frown of pleasure starts to install on his face. At some point, his own chest is moving with how hard his breath has become, doing the work for you of tugging them while you hold them still.

His eyes are closed and his tongue salutes you when he wets his lips, pressing his hips against you. His boner is appearing there, pressing the mount of your abdomen, but you’re so concentrated on the image in front of you that you can’t care less about him using you to stimulate that area every time his hips push softly into you.

He looks so good like that. You can’t stop yourself from asking when, after twirling them harder, a particular moan leaves his mouth, making you wet. You’re not being touched at all apart from his hands marking your hips with his strength, but your sex was clenching with the pleasure you were giving him, as if those touches were gifted to you too.

‘’Can-Can I lick them?’’ you ask nervously.

‘’Fuck, don’t do that to me’’ his eyelids flutter and you stop all your movements, afraid you’re asking for too much. Shit, perhaps even he thinks I’m crazy, you tell yourself.

‘’Can’t I?’’ you ask, sad of him denying your question, or at least, what you understood as a denial.

‘’Don’t fucking stop’’ he says, one leg going between your thighs and bending it to touch you more. ‘’Do whatever you want honey, I know you’ll do it with care’’.

You don’t need anymore, and moving down your face to his chest, you look up at him with deer eyes, afraid of him stopping you again.

He nods at you, giving you the certainty you want to start doing it.

You’ve never licked another person’s nipples before, so you were unsure of exactly what to do, and remembering what your couple of partners have done before to make you feel good, you press the tip of your tongue over one of them, damping the pink tip and tasting the combination of the flavour of his skin and the metallic object.

Your pussy feels even better with the sensation of it in your mouth, stealing a moan from you.

‘’Shit, you like them that much?’’ he asked, obtaining a nod from you as a response. God, what would your friend say if she found you in that position? You feel sick for a second, but you quickly ignore that thought with the shake of his laugh inside his chest making you look at him instead.

‘’They’re really pretty’’ you say between laps, maintaining eye contact.

‘’Not as pretty as you baby’’, he praises you back.

You moan again with his words, and your eyebrows frown when you feel his knee pressing your cunt, feeling yourself dripping inside your shorts.

‘’You’re doing good baby, keep going’’ he smiles, making you happy with the idea of doing a good job for him.

It’s all so weird. The last thing you expected that day was Wonbin to have pierced nipples, even less, that you would be licking them in a bathroom. However, there you are, moaning while humping his knee and playing with one of the piercings while your mouth continues tasting the other.

Wonbin tastes and smells so good, you’re getting dizzy, as if his whole body was made from the sugar you needed to get completely drunk.

It’s all a bunch of frantic moves, you’re humping his leg while his hands push to the sink behind you, biting his lips hard at the sensation of your mouth drinking his chest.

‘’Fuck- that’s so good’’ his voice sounds in pain, and you bite the little mound in your mouth as you do with your cheek, controlling yourself to not hurt him, to what he shudders before his mouth falls open and a choked sound escapes his swollen lips. ‘’That’s enough, stop’’ he pushes you away, gaining a whine from you because you don’t want to stop, you want to continue, to see his gorgeous face break apart.

‘’Why?’’ you complain. His knee digs into you harder, and you move your hips more to the front as a response. He’s trying to control his breath, and you like how he’s looking at you, as if he was as bad for you as you are for him.

‘’I was about to cum’’ he reveals, and you can’t believe he just told you that, because the idea sounds so good you clench around nothing.

‘’Please, please’’ you beg.

Just minutes before you thought you were crazy for wanting to lick his nipples, but now you realize that you’re insane for wanting to see him cum like that. For needing to see it. You’re sure his cock is fucking pretty as well, and you want to see it spurring with cum so bad you don’t even ask before your hand starts to pull his belt open. He lets you, going to the hem of your shirt, and there’s when your whole euphoric state stops, and panic arises.

‘’No, wait, stop’’ you push his hand away and he lets you go immediately.

‘’What’s wrong? I thought-‘’ he doesn’t finish the sentence, clarity coming back to him too. ‘’Did I read things wrong?’’

He didn’t read anything wrong. You wanted to get even more intimate, but you’re scared. The light is on, and you can see him, which means, he can see you too.

‘’No, it’s just…’’ how could you say, please don’t get scared, or disgusted, I have a huge mark that goes from my shoulder to my chest that will never leave me alone, without sounding odd. You don’t think he’s ever heard or seen anything about surgery scars, from what you can see, he’s perfect in more ways than you can even explain. He’s handsome, yes, but his pierced nipples had added a touch of surprise to him, making him insufferably hot. He wouldn’t understand.

‘’What?’’ he asks, shaking you out of your mind vomiting sentences that make your insides stir with anxiety.

The moment is already awkward, the emotion and lust overpowered by your discomfort.

‘’I shouldn’t’’ you say, your words not making any sense since you can’t force yourself to tell him.

‘’You don’t want to continue?’’ he asks confused. ‘’I mean, you can change your mind, but I don’t get it, did I do something wrong?’’

‘’No, of course not’’ you say. ‘’It’s not you, it’s me.’’

Perfect, now you sound as if you were breaking up with him.

You can’t find the correct words. You’re sure what you’re feeling is perfectible understandable with how your parents had taught you that you shouldn’t just show it around, making you ashamed of it until you reached your vast age. But, you were a grown-up now, and you were about to be a teacher, how could you let your life be controlled by something you couldn’t change, even more, by something as banal as your physique.

You would be in charge of so many little lives in just a couple years, and you would never want one of them to feel ashamed of who they are solely because of their bodies.

You know what your mother did that day was wrong, but you know even more that you should start to change how you feel about it.

Also, you’ve talked the whole night, and if you were about to (probably) fuck him, you should at least make sure he wasn’t an asshole that found you disgusting by a mark.

Looking at him with pleading eyes, he stays silent, letting you take as much time as you need. You grab the hem of your shirt, and you want to sprint out as soon as your head starts playing the exact words you’ve heard every time you’ve gone shopping and tried on something that showed your skin. You shouldn’t.

To be fair, you correct that same voice, you’ve done a lot of things you shouldn’t, like entering a tattoo shop when your whole family and career were conservative as hell, or accepting a burrito from a complete stranger in the middle of the night in a concert, and you’re still alive.

His shoulders become smaller, and one of his hands goes to his shoulder, covering himself while his biceps show more.

‘’If it’s the piercings, I assure you I don’t have one down there, I’m not that brave’’ he laughs.

‘’What?’’ now you’re even more confused.

‘’Well, I know many don’t like them, I thought you did, but I could be wrong’’ he blinks like you do when you’re nervous, and you have to shake your head before you talk again.

‘’Wonbin, I was moaning while licking them just a second ago, I think that’s enough proof of how much I do like them’’ you say suddenly surprised with the way the confident guy you’ve been talking to the whole party has changed to a shy version of himself. You can’t seem to let him feel the problem is him, so you take all the courage you have, pull up your shirt and toss it to the floor, just like Wonbin did.

You’re wearing the top of a swimsuit, because even if you weren’t going to swim, you didn’t want to stay out of the theme. The thin straps don’t hide anything from you, and you leave the insecurity of your life on full display.

He looks at you and blinks.

‘’So, you want to continue?’’ he asks.

You blink, not believing that he’s not making any question about it. Your first boyfriend asked you desperately what had happened to you, expecting a sad story with tears, and you didn’t feel like receiving that pity look again, so you never fucked him, or anyone, in daylight ever again.

You also broke up with him after fucking two times.

‘’I mean, I want to, but don’t you have any question?’’ you ask unconvinced. Was he ignoring the elephant in the room or were you to pretentious to think everything was about your mark and everyone would focus on it your whole life?

‘’About what?’’

You start to feel stupid (which was probably right).

‘’Is my scar… okay to you?’’ you ask then.

‘’Why would it not be? I’ve seen it before’’ he says.

You lift your hand to stop him. You have to stop everything from moving forward in that exact same second.

‘’What do you mean you’ve seen it before?’’ you can’t believe it. You’ve hidden it so well some of your friends have never seen it in years of friendship. You’ve hidden it so well that you have family that has never heard of your fall when you were a dumb child who obliged their parents to take off the training wheels before they learned how to fully drive a bicycle.

‘’I’m a tattoo artist at The Ink. The admin sent me a picture of it to check if I could do the nude tattoo. I told you that I saw you there. I wanted to talk to you to convince you to a coloured one, but you had left when my other appointment ended.’’

He says it with such calm you can’t help but feel calm too, even if incredibly dumb at the same time. He didn’t look like usual tattoo artists, he had his arms empty, like blank canvases waiting to be painted, and you had to be honest, you imagined them all to have no empty space in their bodies.

Where was the tweety you imagined them all to have?

You nod, understanding. You’re such an asshole, you’ve done to him everything you didn’t want people to do to you. You’ve judged his appearance, his career, everything out of the stupid traditionality of your ideas.

 ‘’I see’’ you say, and he smiles.

‘’Did you think I would push you away the second I saw it? As if it was a scarlet letter?’’ he says with a breathy laugh, as if he found funny how dumb you were for thinking it was a problem.

‘’First, I didn’t know you read. Second, well yes, don’t laugh at me, I’m all vulnerable and almost tits on air’’ you say, looking at his chest to distract yourself from the shame. At least, you think, it’s not because of your body anymore.

He laughs louder, getting closer to your body and leaving his head on the space of your neck and putting his hands over yours, which were gripping the surface of the sink. It feels like a hug, but you doubt it could be described as that when he wasn’t wrapping you with his arms. He was just there, close, chest to chest, pressing his hard piercings against your flimsy bikini top.

‘’I have something to admit though’’ he says after a second.

Of course, there was something, everything was too good to be true. You sighed, nodding and giving him permission to say it.

It’s weird. Looks a bit ugly. It’s hard to digest.

‘’I think it’s really pretty, especially the color, it reminds me of cherry blossoms.’’

You swear, Wonbin can’t stop surprising you.

‘’Shut up’’ you smile shyly. He moves apart and when he sees you becoming all timid again, he cups your chin and makes you lift your eyes to him.

‘’I have a scar too, although not as pretty as yours’’ he says, moving the locks of hair covering his left eyebrow and showing you the nude line there.

You press your finger there. He’s a bad liar, not because he sounds unconvincing, but because what he said is blatantly not true. His scar is prettier, so much that it looks as if it had been done in purpose to make him look more handsome.

‘’Dumbass’’ you smile, pressing the pad of your thumb over his almost perfect eyebrow. If you’re honest, it looks perfect to you.

He uses your distraction and gives you a quick peck on the lips. You can’t react to it when he’s already away.

‘’What was that?’’ you laugh loudly, finding him adorable.

‘’A kiss, I hope’’ he answers, smiling so wide you see his bunny teeth.

Fuck, I like him, you think.

You kiss him again, this time for longer, so it’s a real kiss.

His hands go play with the straps of your top and you move your hands to your back to undo the knot holding it in place.

When you let it fall, he admires you like you did to him before. His hands, bigger than yours, go to your chest, playing with your nipples, to then go higher and follow the trail of your scar.

‘’I would die to draw flowers over them’’ he comments, index drawing the line. ‘’It would be a good branch’’ he notices. ‘’The flowers would be blossoming, at their best point, full of colour’’ he sighs, eyes dropping as if he was getting hot with the mere idea of tattooing your skin. His middle finger touches the little lines that move outward, like they’re born from the thick, uneven line. ‘’It would be a perfect tree’’ he finishes.

You’re getting wet with the image he plants in your imagination. It blooms in your sex, which is getting more wet with every second that passes. In your ears, he’s singing the hottest song you’ve heard in your life, watering the seed he had buried in your mind.

‘’I want to be a teacher. I’d get fired if they saw it’’ you lament.

‘’Don’t think so, every student would think you’re the coolest person around’’ he whispers. One of his hands goes down your abdomen, cupping you over your denim shorts and pulling a soft whimper from you. ‘’Just like I do right now.’’

 ‘’Welcome to the fan club,’’ you shake your head, opening your legs a little more, unnoticeable, and then punching his chest. ‘’You’re such a simp.’’

He grabs your hand and maintains it over his chest, cupping you harder to feel how wet you’re getting. He’s not touching you directly, but he knows you’re wet under all the clothes, and he smirks proudly. ‘’What can I say baby, you rocked my world.’’

You can’t believe he’s using one of your favourite songs to turn you on. He didn’t need to. You’re so wet you’re sure your bikini bottoms are drenched and it’s probably reaching the hard fabric of your shorts.

‘’Shut up’’ you order, touching his clothed erection and unfastening his belt. The metallic sound of it echoes inside the small room, covering the sound of the vents and your throat gulping the saliva accumulated.

‘’So, you do enjoy being in charge’’ he clicks his tongue, smirking. ‘’Now I just wonder how many hours you can boss me around.’’

‘’You said we have to be quick’’ you remind him, pulling down his zipper and smirking too.

‘’You’re right, sadly we’re not alone’’ he agrees, doing the same action with you. ‘’We’ll take out time the next time.’’

His fingers finally touch you directly, sliding a finger between your lips, gathering the wetness that pools there. You almost roll your eyes, feeling the quick touch over your clit electrifying. Still, you must have the last word. ‘’Bold of you to assume there’ll be a next time’’ you say like you can, hand going inside his trousers too.

He groans when you touch his cock. It jumps inside your grip, making you smile until he talks. ‘’With how wet you are, I’m sure it’ll be soon.’’

You want to say something even more cocky, but you can’t answer when his fingers press your clit again. You’re sure you’re making a mess inside your shorts and that you’ll be fucking uncomfortable downstairs, but if you’re going to go around with your clothes all dirty, he should do it too.

Playing with the head of his cock, you have to contain yourself from pulling down his underwear to catch the sight of it naked. The skin feels soft in your hand, and he’s so hard that, when you press it, you feel what he’s made. You’re sure he has a pink tip, just like his nipples, and that seems to drive you a bit more insane. The picture you create in your head is nearly orgasmic. His hard coke, with its thickness and bloody colour, angrily pointed at you for being the cause of its pain.

This is really something you shouldn’t be doing. You shouldn’t be giving a boy you just talked to that day a handjob. It’s so nasty and improper, much more than your scar or any tattoo you could get done.

When you use those adjectives, you notice, that you’re mostly referring to yourself. Could you see Wonbin as nasty and improper? He has pierced nipples, but you thought they were incredibly hot, not to be described as those words, or to be categorized with you.

‘’Your pussy is dripping so much. I want to lick it until I drown in it’’ he sighs, fingers smearing your juices and making a wet sound. ‘’You’d come in my mouth so good, I’m sure I’d be able to taste you the whole night.’’

Oh no, he is nasty and improper, just like you.

Your hand is a bit dry. The only thing helping you touch him good is the little pre-cum you’re using as lube to slide your hand. You spit in your hand while maintaining eye contact, and his grin gets wider, as if he’s glad he has found someone as sick and perverted as him.

You’re not, you try to convince yourself, but you know there’s no use. You were licking his nipples as if your life depended on it moments ago, and you’re sure you’d do it all over again.

Remembering they’re there, at your whole disposition, your free hand moves to touch one. You play with the beams, flicking it up and down, to then pull them. He groans harder when you do it, and you feel his cock get somehow thicker, but instead of loosening your grip, you tighten it and jerk him faster, touching the tip and the base so fast he hisses.

His hips move when you suddenly stop your hand, and you smile, liking how desperate he looks. He notices it, so to erase that smudgy grin, he plugs two fingers inside you, obliging you to part your lips with the sensation of him filing you and the sound of your pussy squelching. His fingers are long enough to shock you, and the pain of pleasure building is starting to hit you as much as him.

‘’Let it free, please’’ he asks nicely. He’s so polite and looks in so much pain you want to do it, but you’re sure that, if you asked the same, he wouldn’t comply your begs.

A dark spot is appearing in his black underwear. You can see it with the orange light on. He’s also sweating so bad with the temperature of the room that you see a drip fall from his damp hair to his neck and die on the bone of his clavicle.

You want to lick that place too.

‘’Don’t want to’’ you say, doing the fast motion again, making him grunt.

His fingers move faster too, pushing a bit down your shorts so he can finger you better. It sounds almost like a dessert, and you moan when he curls his fingers. Fucking tattoo artist with talented hands.

‘’Don’t be mean or I’ll be even worse’’ he warns you.

You twist his nipple harder, and he whimpers.

His hands are ferociously fucking you, two fingers deep inside you and his palm brushing your clit, making you wish you had the liberty of cumming without consequences.

You do it too, you keep his pace, moving your hand up and down, not thinking much about it, just following him. You’re the one touching him, you’re the one being mean while jerking him off inside his trousers, yet it feels as if he was the one commanding you to do so.

He starts thrusting the hold you have on him, simulating the force and speed he’s using to fuck you with his fingers.

‘’You’re so bad, the next time I’ll make you beg for me to use my tongue on you’’ he painfully says.

You’re getting closer, you feel it coming. Your pussy is already dripping what you feel as your close orgasm, and so is he with the twitching of his cock, you just know it. You frown, mouth open, and you don’t analyze your question when you do it.

‘’Why would I beg?’’ you innocently ask.

He doesn’t have to say anything. He opens his mouth, flashing you the silver ball in his rosy tongue, and you lose yourself, cumming with a silent moan and shaking legs. He does the same. Feeling your orgasm splashing his hand, he shoots his cum, marking with the marbles more than one spot in his underwear.

You finally pull down his underwear when you feel he has finished cumming, and you see, even if not as hard anymore, the prettiest cock you could’ve imagined. To fuck with him, you spread his cum along his softening shaft, and he does the same with you, sliding his fingers a couple more times before he takes his hand out. Watching it glossy and drops sliding down to his wrist, he looks at you and licks them before they get to his forearm.

You’re both a couple of nasty, improper, sick and pervert people.

Not much later, when you’re both getting decent again, he talks. ‘’Come to the studio, I’ll give you the tattoo’’ he says with a drunk voice. You’ve cleaned as much as you could with toilet paper, and you meet his eyes in the mirror. He’s behind you, knotting your bikini top for you, and looking extremely placid for doing it, as if he was still in the haze of the moment. ‘’Of course, after that, we should go on a date too’’ he says more firmly than his previous offer.

He’s perfect and imperfect in so many senses: he has rosy delicate lips, yet he has uttered the nastiest words you’ve ever heard, he has shaped eyebrows, yet a scar interrupts the harmony of them, and he has the beauty to attract anyone with all his odds, yet he chooses you.

No, he is perfect for you, just the way he is.

You’re still in the blissful state of your post-orgasm, kind of there and at the same time far away, so you don’t even think twice before you nod at his proposal.

‘’We should.’’

When you both eat the remaining cold pizza, he rests one of his hands on your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side, nodding when you tell him that cherry blossoms do sound good.

#riize smut #riize x reader #wonbin x reader #wonbin smut #riize fluff

[uswntdreamer]

babygirl ❥︎ a. putellas & c. graham hansen x reader.

you meet some new faces while in the children's unit. one of those faces being vicky, who has a close bond with alexia.

episode i of in sickness, in health.

warnings: mentions of child abuse.

"so what kind of jobs do you think were on the market in bikini bottom?"

"are you serious, aitana?"

"no, just curious."

keira walsh, front desk assistant in the children's unit, stared at her coworker in disbelief. the short nurse stared back at keira, waiting for the woman's answer.

keira looked back at her computer. "i don't know. they probably worked nine to five jobs. don't you have a child to attend to?"

nurse bonmatí shook her head. "nope. it's lunchtime, which means i'm free for the next hour."

"and you've decided to bother me?"

"yep!" nurse bonmatí beamed as she sat down next to keira. keira bit her lip to hide an amused smile.

"ladies." dr. frido interrupted as the three of you entered the other two's presence. "have either of you seen asisat? she's needed in the surgery unit."

keira and nurse bonmatí shook their head. "nope, but it's lunchtime which means she'll be here in a second." aitana explained.

keira raised her eyebrow. "is this about caroline and alexia?"

your body tensed up immediately. "how did this woman know?" you thought to yourself.

keira seemed to notice your change in body language. "news spread fast here, my friend."

nurse bonmatí looked between the two of you in confusion. "what happened between dr. hansen and dr. putellas?"

keira only stared at you. you looked away with a deep blush painted across your face. mariona coughed awkwardly. dr. frido explained the drama to the nurse since no one else was going to.

"oh.." nurse bonmatí looked at you. you felt so vulnerable under their gazes. it was already awkward since you didn't know either of the women in front of you, but to have them in your business made it worse.

"i'm sure osho has already made her way down." keira spoke after a moment of awkward silence. "there's no need to feel bad. those two have never gotten along with each other. if you want, you could help us out in the children's unit?"

"thank you..." you sqeaked out quietly.

frido, sensing the tension in the air, excused herself and left. mariona followed suit.

it was just you, keira, and nurse bonmatí at the front desk. nurse bonmatí called you over to have a seat at the front desk, you accepted her invitation and sat down between the two of them. you spent the next twenty minutes getting to know the two women, aitana was more vocal about her life while keira was a bit reserved about the information she shared.

"it's the language barrier." aitana excused her. "she's really talkative outside of work. especially about.."

"quiet, aitana!" keira warned.

"so i can't mention.."

"no! no, you can't."

aitana chuckled teasingly. keira shook her head in annoyance and continued eating at her salad. you and aitana continued to conversate while keira listened. your conversation was interrupted when a young girl, wearing purple scrubs, entered your vision.

"is there something you need, esmee?" keira asked the brown skinned girl with pigtails, who stood awkwardly across the desk.

"uh yeah..." she shifted uncomfortably. "can i get an extra pillow, please?"

aitana immediately jumped up from her chair and ran to get a pillow for the girl. it caught you off guard at how fast she got up. keira held back her laugh.

"i think we'd get more things done around here if you were in charge, esmee." keira joked. "aitana isn't the only one whipped for you, frido and ingrid would do anything for you too."

esmee smiled shyly. aitana returned with six pillows tucked between her short, but muscular arms. keira couldn't contain her laugh this time as aitana wobbled over to esmee.

"i... i didn't need all those pillows... just one."

"nonsense!" aitana rebutted. "you need all these pillows, i'm sure your current ones are all flat. let me change them!"

"aitana, stop." keira laughed. "just give her the one pillow she asked for."

aitana frowned. "but her other pillows.."

"she only asked for one."

"but.."

"esmee." keira sent esmee an encouraging look.

esmee swallowed her protest and reached out for only one pillow, "thank you, nurse aitana. i only need one." and began to walk back to her assigned room.

"okay, honey! let me know if you need anymore!" aitana shouted out. keira facepalmed herself as you sat confused in the chair.

"aitana is esmee's assigned nurse." keira explains. "nurse engen was esmee's nurse and frido is her doctor. they all have a special bond with the young girl."

"what's she being treated for?" you asked out of curiosity.

"cancer."

"oh..." you were caught off guard by how causally keira answered, like it was no big deal.

"yeah, frido works with her. ingrid used to work as her nurse before she got transfered to work in the pregnancy unit, so aitana works with her. though, ingrid still comes by to visit."

you nodded along to keira's explaination. you thought it was kind of adorable that the doctors and nurses formed bonds with the girls. you wondered if you'll form a bond with a girl here.

"alexia comes by often to check on vicky." keira adds.

that immediately catches your attention.

"who's vicky?" you asked.

keira looked at you, this whole time she had been staring at her screen. "vicky's an eleven year old in room 30. she's one of alexia's child patients, which is rare since alexia doesn't like working with children."

"why doesn't she work with children?"

keira shrugged. "not sure. i don't talk to alexia, but you could talk to vicky since lunch is over. i'm sure she's in her room now."

you froze. "i don't know... you think that's a good idea?"

"you're clearly into alexia, maybe not romantically or anything like that, but i can tell you want to be a part of her world. vicky can help with that. be nice to vicky and alexia will come around. just don't be weird about it."

you nodded along to keira's advice. "but what if vicky doesn't like me?"

keira chuckled. "vicky likes everyone. you gotta be a real asshole to get her to hate you." she dug into her lunchbox and pulled out a juice box. "here, give this to vicky. she loves juice boxes."

you took the juice box out of keira's hand and made your way down to room 30.

you knocked softly on the aquatic decorated door in front of you. you're not sure why, but you were nervous about meeting vicky. children don't make you nervous, but this one did. probably because she's linked to alexia and you would hate for her to tell alexia you were weird to her. that would ruin any future relationship with alexia, and maybe your career.

you were going to leave, but when you heard a small "come in", you knew it was too late to back out. so you opened the door and closed it softly. you saw a brown skinned girl sitting comfortably on the bed, her hair was brushed back into a bun, and her body was covered by purple scrubs, which was covered by an aquatic themed blanket.

"hi vicky..." you greeted. you told her your name and handed her the juice box. you looked up at the tv mounted on the wall and saw a women's football game being broadcasted, feeling bad that you probably interrupted her.

vicky looked at the juice box in her hand then back at you. "are you my new nurse?" vicky questioned with a twinkle of happiness in her brown orbs.

you frowned and shook your head. "no. i'm not." you noticed how quickly the happiness disappeared from her shining eyes. "would you like me to be your new nurse?"

vicky shrugged her shoulders. "i don't know. are you mean?"

you were taken aback by the question. "no. is your current nurse mean to you?"

"yes." vicky admitted sadly. "she doesn't help me when i need her to, she forces me to leave the bathroom door open whenever i use the toilet or shower, and when i tell her that i'm hungry or thirsty, she takes forever to come back, sometimes she doesn't come back at all."

you were disgusted; how could anyone treat a child like this? you took a seat in the chair next to vicky's bed. "how long has she been doing this?"

vicky hummed to herself as she thought about it. "about a week and a half? i try not to need anything so i won't have to interact with her, but it's hard when my heart stops beating every now and then."

you gripped the armchair in anger. "who else knows about this?" you tried your best to conceal the anger in your voice.

"dr. putellas knows. she's been trying to get me a new nurse, but all of the children's nurses are busy."

your anger subdues when vicky mentions alexia. you leaned in closer to vicky. "are you and dr. putellas close with each other?"

vicky beams excitedly. "yes! we're best friends! she even lets me call her alexia when we're in private!"

you couldn't contain the smile that painted itself across your face. seeing how giddy this little girl became now that the conversation was focused on alexia, you couldn't help, but feel giddy as well.

"are you and alexia friends?" vicky asks you as she took a sip from her juice box.

you shook your head. "no, but i'd love to become friends with her."

"everyone wants to be friends with alexia! that's what asisat told me, she told me how popular alexia is among the nurses. it's true, isn't it?"

you nodded. "alexia is very popular."

vicky sighed. "well she told me she wasn't looking for any new friends and that i'm the last friend she'll ever make."

you frowned a bit. "can i be your friend at least?"

vicky nodded happily. "of course you can! you just can't be my best friend or else alexia will get upset."

"okay then." you agreed. "why doesn't alexia want any more friends if she's so popular?" you asked her.

you already knew why alexia was setting boundries for herself, but you were curious of what vicky's reasoning will be. did alexia tell vicky about the harassment she dealt with or did she lie?

vicky shrugged and took a sip of her juice. "no idea. we don't talk about her during work, we talk about our personal lives."

"what do you talk about?" you were definitely pushing the limits by asking this invasive question, but you were so desperate to get any information of the older woman. even if it meant interviewing a kid.

vicky gave you a weird look. "i can't talk about that! it's personal between the two of us." the girl may be eleven, but she also has a set of boundries not to be crossed.

"okay okay." you agreed. "i'm just curious about alexia. it's hard to become friends with someone when you know nothing about them."

vicky shrugged. "have you tried talking to her?"

you didn't answer immediately. you've never made an attempt to talk to the woman because you knew alexia's distain for it. vicky was staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

"no, but that's because she doesn't like it when people approach her for non work related things." you explained.

vicky nodded understandably. "ah..." she looked up at the ceiling as her own thoughts consumed her before turning her attention back to you. "who's your patient?"

"i don't have one." you answered plainly.

"then you can be my nurse. alexia always comes by in the morning at breakfast and in the evening during dinner. you can talk to her during those hours." vicky suggested.

you thought about it for a second. it wasn't a bad idea, you knew you'd have to convince irene to switch to the children's unit, but if you could then the plan would be solid. it would also mean that vicky wouldn't have to deal with that awful nurse anymore. a win-win situation.

you smiled brightly at vicky. "okay vicky! i'll see if i can be your nurse, that way you won't have to worry about the mean one you have now."

vicky matched your bright smile with her own. "really?! thank you! i really don't like the nurse i have, she's like a witch who hasn't reached her final form yet."

you chuckled. "don't worry, vicks. you won't have to worry about her again. i'll talk to dr. paredes about switching."

vicky let out a sigh of relief and leaned back against the bed. you stood up from your chair and excused yourself out of the room, not wanting to waste anymore time. the faster you could make the switch happen, the better.

you passed by the front desk, where keira and aitana talked amongst themselves. you placed your hands flat on the front desk and leaned over aitana.

"aitana? you transferred to esmee because ingrid left the unit?" you questioned aitana like you were some detective of some sort.

aitana nodded. "yeah they were low on staff. ingrid specializes in children's health and maternal health. i specialize in children's health and standard health so they picked me to replace ingrid when ingrid was pulled to assist in the pregnancy unit."

"do you have to be specialized in children's health to work as a nurse in this unit?" you asked. both aitana and keira nodded silently.

you cursed internally; you weren't specialized in children's health, or in any other department for a matter of fact. that's probably why you were caroline's assistant nurse because you had nothing else to bring to the table. if you weren't feeling useless before, you definitely were now.

"are you specialized with children?" aitana asked.

you shook your head.

"but you wanna work with children?" keira asked.

you nodded your head.

"hmm..." both aitana and keira hummed together. the three of you sat in silence as you contemplated your next move.

"wait!" aitana spoke up. "osho works with the children and she doesn't specialize in children's health."

"asisat isn't a nurse, so she doesn't specialize in any kind of health. she's a teacher with a degree in children's development and education." keira explained. "and when she isn't with children, she's here at the front desk." keira pointed to asisat's chair next to her.

"oh right..." aitana bummed out.

you didn't have any degree relating to children. maybe this plan wouldn't work out after all. maybe alexia's actions earlier today meant nothing. maybe you'll just have to settle for being a background character in her world and a nobody in caroline's.

but what about vicky? she'd have to suffer from having an neglectful nurse. no child should have to go through that.

"what if a nurse was neglecting a child? would that nurse be transferred?" you suddenly asked.

your question puzzled both of the women in front of you. keira and aitana looked at each other then back at you.

"she'd be fired." keira answered. "and there would be a scramble to find another nurse to take her place."

aitana squinted her eyes at you suspiciously. "what are you thinking?"

you tell them about vicky's situation and how you want to become vicky's nurse instead. you made no mention of wanting to get closer to alexia, realizing that vicky's safety and comfort was more important than some hospital drama.

aitana's and keira's mouth were slacked open. aitana clasped her hands together. "i fucking knew it. i knew that girl couldn't be trusted, i knew it! i tried to warn irene, but she wouldn't listen!"

keira closed her mouth gently and typed away at her computer. "i knew she had a weird attitude, but i didn't know she was abusing vicky."

"you guys know who she is? vicky didn't tell me her name." you got up from the couch and made your way behind the desk.

"that fucking castillo." aitana spat quietly. "that little rat. when i get my hands on her..."

"calma, aitana." keira commanded softly before turning her attention to you. "nurse athenea. she's been vicky's nurse for about a week now."

"she's not a 'nurse', keira!" aitana snapped.

"quiet, aitana." keira snapped back.

"irene knows? and didn't do anything about it?" you felt your blood start to boil. "vicky said alexia's been trying to get her a new nurse, but to no avail."

"i'm not surprised." keira admitted. "we're low on staff."

"but if a patient, a KID, is being abused then they should do something about it." you challenged, not liking how calm keira was about this.

"it's a disgrace." keira agreed. "but it's up to irene at the end of the day."

"we should..." before aitana could finish her sentence, the front desk phone ringed.

keira hushed the two of you and picked up the phone. "hello?"

"alright. she's on her way down now."

"okay, bye." keira hung up the phone.

she swiveled her chair towards you. "it's irene. she wants to talk to you."

you started to get nervous. it was only your third week and you were already being called down to irene's office. "what does she want to talk about?"

"doesn't matter!" aitana snapped. "tell her to get that rat out of here!"

"aitana, please lower your voice." keira hushed her again.

aitana got up from her seat and stormed off down the hall. keira moves closer to you. "i'm sure this has something to do with what happened earlier, but if you could mention del castillo then that would be the perfect time."

you nodded at her advice and stood up. "got it."

keira sent a pair of thumbs up towards you as you made your departure.

you froze once you were face to face with irene's wooden door. you could hear a few voices going back and forth behind the door, but you couldn't make out what was being said or who was saying what. you just hoped that none of those voices belonged to alexia or caroline.

turns out the universe wasn't on your side today. when you opened the door and stepped inside, you immediately made eye contact with alexia. you ripped you eyes away from hers and landed on caroline, who continued to stare out the window.

you also noticed two other figures besides irene; it was mapi león, the head officer and ingrid's lover, who stood against the window and another woman who you've never seen before. she wore her brown hair into a neat bun that complimented her sleek black suit. her big brown orbs burned a hole into you and you could tell she was the oldest in the room based off her authority.

"thank you for joining us." irene approached you and gestured to the only available chair for you to sit in. the only available chair being next to caroline.

you awkwardly sat down next to the norwegian woman, trying your hardest to ignore the look alexia sent you.

"now that everyone is here..." irene presented herself in front of everyone. "there's going to be some changes going forward. we're not going to keep arguing with each other because we are professionals and it's our job to be professional, but it's not professional when we have this silly soap opera going on."

you took your eyes off of irene for a second and noticed that no one, except you, was actually paying attention to her. mapi's eyes were on irene, but she looked like her mind was somewhere else, both alexia and the mystery woman kept their eyes on you, whilst caroline continued to stare out the window.

"so, i'm gonna take a big risk with this purposal. i've been talking with dr. guijarro about this and we came to the idea that you two need to confront each other in your differences. you don't need to get along, but you need to stop hating each other." irene continued as she paced around the room.

caroline spoke up. "i don't hate anyone."

alexia scoffed. "liar."

"fuck off, putellas." caroline took her eyes off the window and glared at alexia, who glared right back at her.

"you two need to stop! seriously!" irene stressed.

"i do my work, i don't bother anyone, i prefer to be alone." caroline started. all eyes were on her now. "and yet, this piece of shit keeps harassing me for no good reason. what's the reason, putellas? you have all these women foaming at the mouth for you and yet, you still find yourself in my laboratory!"

"if i'm a piece of shit, then you're the devil incarnate. you're an awful fucking person and you don't belong in this hospital." alexia snapped back. "you disregard the human life around you and you treat our patients like... like test subjects rather than actual people who need help!"

caroline laughed. "what the hell are you even talking about? are we resorting to stupid lies because we can't come up with a good enough excuse? is that what we're doing now?"

"i'm not lying. irene, marta, i'm not lying. this woman is a madwoman and you're encouraging her by keeping her employed." alexia looked between irene and the other woman.

"bullshit." caroline responded. "you're literally pulling shit out of your ass. i could also speak on you and how you love to hookup with the nurses here, but that wouldn't be a lie because it's actually true."

alexia was quick to her feet. mapi stepped in and held her arm across the taller woman's chest. both you and marta shared a look of bewilderment while irene messaged her temples.

"i swear to god, i'm going to fucking lose it." irene muttered under her breath.

"testing on patients? sleeping with coworkers? irene what the hell is going on here?!" marta asked as she stood up from her seat.

"I DON'T KNOW, MARTA! I DON'T KNOW!" irene screamed which caught all of you off guard. irene dug her face in the palms of her hands, she attempted to regulate her breathing and you could see her body withering.

when it seemed like things couldn't get worse, the door slammed open revealing a pissed off aitana.

"uh oh..." you muttered to yourself.

"aitana stop!" you heard keira's voice from out the hall. aitana ignored her and glared down at you.

"did you tell her?!" aitana questioned. you knew what she was referring to, but didn't respond. aitana scoffed. "of course you didn't. irene!" she called out.

"what now, aitana?!" irene was already at her breaking point.

"you need to fire athenea del castillo right fucking now!" aitana demanded. "that woman is a rat and is abusing the children!"

the bomb had dropped, but it had yet to explode. marta's eyes shot wide open. irene clinched her hair in fustration. "this again?! i already told you that i'm working on it!"

"what do you mean again?" marta asked.

"well stop working on it and get to firing! you're an awful boss if you're letting your employees abuse children! it's bad enough we're low on staff and money, but you're gonna let child abuse slide?! fucking come on irene! DO YOUR JOB!" aitana snapped.

the bomb had exploded. irene picked up her laptop and slammed it down onto the floor, shattering the electronic device into pieces. "THAT'S IT! ALL OF YOU GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE!!! I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANY OF YOU FOR THE REST OF THE DAY! GET OUT! NOW! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!"

caroline sprung out of seat and exited the room quickly. keira yanked aitana out from the doorway and dragged her down the hall. mapi pulled both you and alexia along with her out. marta was the only person who stayed behind, watching as irene destroyed her own office.

(couldn't come up with a good villain, so i just threw athenea del castillo under the bus. sorry bout that.)

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #caroline graham hansen x reader #caroline graham hansen #barca femini x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #vicky lopez #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #vicky lopez x reader

[jji-lee]

how about something like their s/o loving their mustache look and don't want them to shave?

sorry that this is so late, and that i made it kinda long!!! i added the other part you mentioned too! i spent hours looking at dreamies mustache pics, hope you enjoy! ☺

❥ mark’s facial hair grew back quite quickly, but mark was quicker, shaving off any stubble that made an appearance. but with the recent comeback, having to wake up early and rush to practice and coming home only to eat and sleep, simply wearing a mask outdoors would have to suffice. after a busy couple of weeks you had been dying to see your boyfriend, inviting him over to spend the night. when you finally heard the jingling of the keys you sprung out of bed to greet your boyfriend. as the door opened and you got a look at mark, a dark shadow cast over his lip and light stubble adorned his chin and jawline. you stepped back for a second to admire this new look. mark laughed awkwardly, covering his face, “dude stop staringgg, i didn’t have time to shave i wanted to see you so i just rushed over” you grabbed his hand pulling him towards the couch, “no no no, i’ve just never seen you like this, you look really good markie, you should grow it out more often” you reached up to touch his mustache, smiling at the new feeling. mark was blushing like crazy, maybe some stubble wasn't so bad after all.

❥ renjun almost never grew facial hair, it took months for even the tiniest amount of hair to pop up. so when you went in for a kiss and instead were greeted by an itchy upper lip, you knew you couldn't leave renjun alone about it. you grabbed his face, using your thumbs to run over the tiny stubble that had appeared on renjun's upper lip. "um, babe is this some new tiktok trend you saw, what's going on with you" he pulled your hands off him looking at you with concerned eyes. "junnie you have a mustache! a real actual mustache is growing right now!" he slapped his hand over his mouth, clearly embarrassed by this new revelation. "you're a liar let me go see" he rushed to the vanity gasping when he noticed small hairs beginning to grow. "where's the razor i need this gone right now!" you giggled at your boyfriend's reaction rushing to stop him from removing his hair, "wait no no, i never get to see you like this, leave it, just for today!" renjun let out a sigh knowing he couldn't say no to you, "fine, but i'll make you so sick of my mustache that you'll never want me hairy again" he pressed his upper lip to your cheek rubbing harshly, causing you to push him away "not so nice now, right baby"

❥ jeno was always handsome, but right now how you were seeing him, no makeup, wet hair, towel around his hips, and a slight stubble growing on his upper lip and chin, jeno was godly. "hello? earth to y/n? you're acting like you've never seen me naked" naked? that was the least of your concerns right now, jeno with facial hair was a rare sight only on a night like now, straight after practice and too tired to shave, could you see him like this. jeno gently sat on the bed next to you, reaching out to hold your chin, using it to make you face him, "hey sweet girl, are you ignoring me?" you blinked a couple times still processing the sight in front of you, now much closer, "sorry, sorry, i just, i don't get to see you like this often" you blushed looking away from him. jeno still confused by your reaction, "shirtless? baby we've been dating for years, did my muscles get bigger?" he chuckled at his own comment slightly flexing his biceps. you slapped his arm laughing at his silly movements, "no jen, your mustache, you look so handsome like this." now it was jeno's turn to blush, eyes growing wide at the realization that your focus was on his stubble. he reached up to cover his face, "sorry i need to get new batteries for my razor" you pulled his hands away from his face leaning towards him to plant a kiss on his chin stubble, "don't worry about it, you look really good like this puppy."

❥ haechan hated that his facial hair grew back so quickly. he'd shave at night and the next morning a shadow would be cast over his lip and on his chin, hair already growing back. but what he hated more was how you avoided him when he did have facial hair. what he didn't know is that you loved seeing haechan with facial hair. haechan had been busy, his razor laying cold and alone on the bathroom counter, his mustache and chin hair dark and prominent. as he joined you in bed, pulling you by your waist to face him, you tried you best to not ogle at your boyfriend's facial hair, looking anywhere but his face. he noticed you avoidant gaze, reaching up to force you to look at him, "do you really dislike my mustache that much, you can't even look at me baby?" heat began to rise to your face, finally fully looking at your beautiful boyfriend, "wha-what, of course not! i- i actually think i like it a little too much" your hand reached up hesitantly to brush against his chin hair. haechan was more than pleased with your response, leaning into your touch, "oh my baby, why didn't you just say so, had me nervous thinking you hated my hair," "no! i could never hate your facial hair, it's, it's actually a really good look on you" he smiled wide, an idea popping into his head, "well, i will definitely be throwing my razor away" he leaned his face closer to you rubbing his prickly chin against your neck, laughing when you tried pushing him away, "hyuck please, that tickles!"

❥ jaemin could not believe what he was seeing. he had been going through your phone trying to find an image of lucy, luke, and luna to send it to himself when he stumbled upon a photo of himself. actually, not a photo, a whole folder titled, 'nana no shave,' he had to give it to you, it was clever, but the countless pics of him with stubble was not just shocking, but concerning. jaemin had no idea that you had liked his stubble so much, let alone have a collection of pictures of it. he decided to put your love for his mustache to the test, letting it grow out for a week. he had been relaxing on the couch watching a drama you had recommended when from the corner of his eye he sees you quickly holding your phone up ready to take a picture, but he was quicker reaching across the couch to snatch your phone from you, "aha, i finally caught you, you were taking pics of my stubble weren't you!" he pointed his finger at you, you sat there shocked that you had been discovered, not knowing that jaemin had caught on to your hidden obsession, you weren't ashamed though, "yeah, and what if i was, what are you gonna do about it jaem?" his shoulders sagged his lips forming a pout, "huh, well i guess nothing" his shoulders perked up again, a smirk on his lips "but stop taking hidden pictures of me! next time just ask me princess, i'll give you all of my mustache pics"

❥ chenle loved to annoy you with his stubble. Every opportunity he got to rub his prickly cheek against yours he would take it. you would always push him away, pretending that you were annoyed by his actions, when in reality you loved to see chenle with his stubble. today was no different. chenle was on week two of no shaving, stubble having grown significantly. you were laying in bed scrolling through your phone when you felt the bed sink next to you, your very hyper boyfriend ready to interrupt you relaxation, "hi lele, is there anything i can help you with?" all you heard was, "nope" before your phone was snatched from your hands and your boyfriend was hovering over you grinning widely, "like my mustache baby?" he wiggled his eyebrows at you struggling to hold back his giggles. you reached up to rub your fingers against his stubble, gently pulling at the hair, "actually, yes i do like your little mustache, makes you look handsome," chenle froze for a second shocked by your sudden confession and then a frown formed on his face, "no fair, if you like it how am i supposed to annoy you now!" he leaned down to rub his cheeks against yours causing you to squirm under his hold. you giggled at him trying to push him away. He sat up, straddling you, "see you're enjoying this, i need a new plan now!"

❥ jisung would not be caught dead with stubble in front of you. the relationship was relatively fresh, he had confessed in june and by august you two were going steady. now it was the start of november and jisung still didn't feel ready to let you see his facial hair grow out, yes it was normal but what if you hated it? that's why when you came up to him asking him to participate in 'no hair november' proudly showing him your week build up of armpit hair, he was hesitant. but god you looked so pretty like this, bushy brows and prickly legs, so what could be the harm in growing some hair himself? it took 4 days for jisung's stubble to finally appear. when he looked in the mirror and saw the light shadow on his chin he was nervous to go and show you, but you beat him to it, his phone rang loudly, your contact name, 'my star💫' shining on him screen. when he picked up your smiling face appeared on the screen, "ji baby look at how much my hairs grown!" you pointed the camera at you legs showing off how the stubble has turned into soft leg hair. jisung smiled warmly at your happiness forgetting that his face was on screen, "oh my goodness sungie look at that stubble!" he quickly moved the camera, only showing his forehead on the screen, "ahh stop it, it's embarrassing" he heard you giggle, "you look so good sung, and it's for a good cause, show it off!" you saw the the camera slowly pan out, his full face coming into view, a shy smile on his face, you were definitely going to start hiding his razor from him.

#nct dream #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #haechan #jeno #mark lee #park jisung #renjun #jaemin #chenle #request

[soupandsimple]

Feelings (with Aaron Hotchner)

[ the lead up of you and neighbor, Aaron, revealing you have feelings for each other ]

* fluff 🩶 (+ light angst)

** have never watched the show, have never wrote for him and will probably never write for him again but I’ve read a ton of his fics and had this idea and just really wanted to write it out and share it!(pls be nice)

…………….

Aaron is your divorcee neighbor; has been for about a year. Within that year, you’d say you’d become pretty good friends with him as well as with his son who he had with him most weekends. To anyone, it was all seemingly platonic from both ends. You’d bake and gift them batches of sweets and he’d take down any packages you may need sent out on his way to work in the morning…etc.

Any unspoken feelings either of you harbored unfortunately only began to come to light when his ex wife, Hayley, was horrifically killed.

Aaron came to your door as soon as he could the night of the tragedy and with glossy eyes said, “Is this a bad time? I need someone to talk to.”

“No, of course not. Come in,” your voice shook, instantly thinking the worst. “What happened Aaron, where’s Jack? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he’s with..with Hayley’s family,” he said, struggling to keep up his stoic demeanor before completely breaking down in sobs. “Oh Y/N.. it’s awful, it’s — … you have- you have no idea.”

That was the first night you ever spent together. He had fallen asleep on your shoulder with teary eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him. When you both woke up in the morning, Aaron apologized for burdening you with his troubles and said he had to get going to see what was going on with the funeral preparations. Although neither of you mentioned it, there was a shift in your friendship from that day forward.

After giving him some space to tend to what he needed to do, you went over to his place.

“Hi. I was going to come over yesterday but who wants to see anyone after a funeral..” you said lightly, walking in after he gestured you inside his apartment.

“I would have loved if you did.”

You nodded and tried not to blush as he closed the door. “Is Jack here?”

“No. I’m letting him spend one last day with Hayley’s parents while they’re still in town.”

He then went on to explain how the plan was for his sister-in-law, Jess, to start coming around to help out with Jack when he couldn’t be with him but that in the meantime, he’d be looking after him while he took some time off from work while Jack took some time off from school too.

“Well I hope you know you can also count on me helping out too.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you, but you’re more than welcome to. I know Jack loves having you around...”

You ordered takeout that night so he wouldn’t have to make dinner or be alone and before you left, promised you’d be back in the morning.

“Y/N, when you said you could help I thought you meant after I went back to work. You don’t have to start rearranging your schedule yet, I’m still going to be around for a couple of days.”

“I know…but I know you and I know you’ve been putting up a brave front for me tonight and you don’t have to do that with me. I want to be here for you to lean on these coming days.”

“I don’t-”

“I’ll be here tomorrow, and don’t forget to drink that cup of tea I made you before bed, ” you said with a quick, parting hug, leaving him no time to protest as you were already back inside your own place.

You ended up helping the following days more than he ever expected. Since you were an assistant to an event planner, you worked mostly from home making and getting calls; the hours were very flexible so it gave you the ability to do all you could for the Hotchner boys.

Meals and household chores, like laundry and dishes, were all easier for Aaron to accomplish with you around; you were such a positive encouragement for both of them as you made sure Jack stayed on top of his tasks too, like making his bed, brushing his teeth and cleaning up after himself.

Of course with being over everyday, Jack began clinging to you more than he ever used to and while you loved the little boy to pieces, you were worried if you being around so much would affect him negatively. When you expressed your worries to Aaron one night after Jack went to sleep, he immediately put them to an end.

“I don’t know if you knew this but Hayley knew about you. Jack would talk to her about you … and she enjoyed it— listening to how much you cared for her little boy,” Aaron told you as you both stood leaning against the island in his dimly lit kitchen before you left for the night.

“I didn’t know that,” you answered, eyes beginning to gloss.

So what if he left out the small detail of Hayley telling him he should ask out his pretty neighbor Jack always talked about; that wasn’t the important part of the memory, well, important for the matter at hand anyway.

“And almost every night before bed, Jack tells me that he’s happy you’ve been coming everyday. That you make him feel ‘okay-er’. Y/N, he loves you and he knows you’re not here to replace anyone.”

Mind at ease then, with a small smile and a stray tear or two, you pushed yourself off the kitchen island and hugged yourself into his chest, which he more than happily accepted and embraced you tightly into for a minute.

“Thanks for making me feel ‘okay-er’ about all this,” you said, looking up at him from where your head rested against him.

He smiled down at you and wiped a tear from your cheek. “Thank you for being here for us.”

All was well as the days went on until it was time for Aaron to return to work. Jack had returned to school the day before and since everything went smoothly, Aaron could then confidently go back to work too knowing Jack had readjusted just fine.

But that morning, Aaron took longer than usual to come out dressed for the day after breakfast, and the time frame he could use to take Jack to school before work was starting to get dangerously close to closing.

“Hey Jack, I’m going to go check on your dad. If he doesn’t come out soon you just might be late for school. Stay put while I get him, finish watching your show,” you said, tickling his side a little making him giggle as you walked off to Aarons room.

You knocked twice at his door and when he didn’t answer either time, you took a little bit of a risk and went in uninvited. What you saw was him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at the floor pensively, dress shirt untucked and tie undone around his collar.

“Aaron?” you spoke quietly.

“I can’t do this,” he said, still looking down.

You closed the door behind you and slowly walked towards him.

“You can’t do what?”

“Return to the real world.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit as you sat down next to him and waited for him to continue.

“It’s been- it’s been so great being here in the apartment with just Jack and you… in our own little private world but I’m afraid— it just all feels so different. I feel different. I don’t think I’m going back mentally the same way I left.”

“Well of course you’re not going back the same. You went through something incredibly traumatizing..”

You grabbed one of the bottom edges of his tie and looked down at your fingers as you delicately ran them back and forth over the smooth silk.

“Aaron, I know you’re a little nervous of stepping back into everyday life and I’m.. a little nervous for you too but you got this. I believe in you. You’re the best at what you do and nobody can take that away from you,” you said, letting go of the tie. When you looked up at him, his eyes were on you and seemed to be full of fondness; it made you blush.

“N-now finish getting ready so you can go drop off that adorable little boy out there in time,” you smiled, nervously standing from where you sat next to him.

As you turned to walk away, he stood too and stretched his hand out to gently grab one of your wrists. You turned back completely and both just looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds; millions of unspoken words and emotions passing between you.

He then finally spoke.

“I really hope I’m not ruining anything but more than ever, I think it’s important to tell you I’ve had feelings for you for pretty much as long as I’ve known you.”

“I’ve had those feelings too, for you,” you admitted.

Relieved, he smiled and you did the same. Slipping his hand down from your wrist, he then took your hand into his properly and interlocked his fingers with yours.

Towering over you like always, he stepped closer and closer and slowly craned his head down as he gently placed the hand that wasn’t holding yours, behind your head. You both closed your eyes and you could feel his lips right in front of yours but could tell he was hesitant to go further.

“Kiss me Aaron,” you told him with a little tremble in your voice. And although you couldn’t see him, you felt him smile before he softly pushed his lips against yours.

Your first kiss was a tender one but after the initial pull away, both his hands landed on your waist and yours around his neck as you leaned back into each other for a more heated and passionate kiss. It was an internal struggle, but eventually you managed to pull yourself away from his lips completely.

“Jack needs to get to school,” you giggled.

Aaron rested his forehead against yours. “And I need to get to work. This beautiful neighbor of mine believes in me and I don’t want to let her down.”

“Hm, sounds like a smart girl,” you teased.

He stood tall and interlocked his hands with each of yours. “Incredibly smart, incredibly caring, incredibly attractive.. the list could go on,” he concluded, embracing you with a warm hug and a kiss to the top of your head. <3

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic

[averagepsychouser]

Magnus archive fans are more scared of making people not conventionally attractive than they are of the actual ghosts

#the magnus archives #the magnus archive fanart #the magnus institute #tma podcast #tma fanart #michael shelley #michael tma #michael the distortion #don’t actually listen to the Magnus archives all the characters are bad #I have spent hours hitting stuff because Jon is so unbelievably STUPUD #literally fuck every person in the archive #they all suck #I hope Jon gets murdered #I hope Martin get murdered #I am a pro archivist hater #call me Jane prentiss the way I want these fuckers obliterated

[lilacjunimo]

the man, the myth, the legend (mister hunter bad batch)

#the bad batch #hunter bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb #I need a tag for all my drawings I really do #ok ok #favorite things #his armor???? #the itty bitty waist #this was actually my fastest drawing I think #echo’s took me over four hours at least #same with jesse #and ahsoka #and that techphee one took days #this took me three hours #not counting the time I spent away from it #also his hair I really really like it #the first sketch was so rough #I gave him such a big head #also V’s right he’s pulling a face like he smelled something stinky #but that’s life #he learned from echo in my world #also yes he’s got no guns in this drawing on purpose #they were too hard and I accepted defeat

[izels-writing]

s. black — august

Tagged; @urbansaint

Pairing: sirius black x fem!slytherin!french!reader

Summary: you and sirius spent most of august together.

Warnings: slightly ooc sirius, a little drama but they’re teens so😝, harassment (brief), slight enemies to lovers if u squint real hard, a bit rushed i apologize, brief mention of france so i apologize i forgot that was part of the request, also i didn’t put regulus and sirius making up in this bc it was already long asf my bad

you hated sirius black. with a passion. not for any unknown reason—no, you had every right to hate him. even his friends knew it. and you were nothing if not stubborn. you'd never admit someone could get under you skin, but he absolutely could.

to understand why you hated sirius, first you had to understand what lead to this in the first place—starting at the beginning.

after a two-week vacation in your parents home town, bordeaux, france, you were very happy to be home. it wasn't that you hated your extended family, but you certainly enjoyed the comfort of your own bed as opposed to the old mattress that your older cousin no longer used.

living beside the potters was fun, if you could believe. you and your parents got along amazingly with the potters, despite you and james' teasing rivalry. you both never meant anything by it, but it was a fun inside joke—even if you hardly acknowledged each other at school.

placing your book down, you glanced up through your bedroom window, peering inside james' bedroom curiously. adding to the rivalry, your bedrooms faced each other—which was funnier than you both cared to admit.

you spotted a tall, though shorter than james, lean boy with handsome features and beautiful black hair. immediately, when he turned around, you recognized it to be sirius black—james' best friend. you knew seldom of sirius' home situation, but knew enough to know that the potters were his safe haven.

unfortunately, a week into the summer, before you left for france—sirius showed up to you and james' movie night, bleeding and crying hysterically from whatever had happened at his home. james helped him get changed while you made them tea and you quickly left, knowing it was not your place to stay. since then, sirius had spoken to you and apologized for the intrusion—but you knew he had nothing to be sorry for. it wasn't his fault.

since you had gotten home, you had gotten yourselves into a bit of a tedious situation.

one night, before the beginning of august, he had trouble sleeping and he had signaled to you through your bedroom window (given he knew what a night owl you were) that he was bored. though you felt you shouldn't have, given your parents no boys rule, you invited him over through your window. he had stayed up with you for a few hours, you two talking about anything and everything that came to mind.

and then, it became a nightly occurrence. you both thought james had no idea, given his habit of sleeping at 9:30 pm sharp, and if he did, he never made it obvious. every night, at 11 pm, he'd climb out of james' window and into yours.

and eventually, given the intimacy of those shared late nights, you grew an attraction to one another. one that did not go left unsaid.

you pulled away from your kiss, pushing sirius' hair out of his face. he was under you, with you straddling his torso as he lied on your bed. his lips were a red shade, from the bruising kissing you two had been engaged in. he tried to pull you in again with a smirk, but you chuckled and pulled away again. you stared into his eyes.

"we're going back to school soon, you know that right?" you asked. he groaned.

"don't remind me," he whined. he pulled you in for another kiss, pulling your hips down onto his. you hummed happily into the kiss but pulled back again.

"so, i know it may be too early to decide this, but we've got to figure out how to explain it you know?" you replied. his side wasn't so much a problem, but you were already a pariah in the slytherin house—given your indifference to pureblood status—you didn't exactly want to seem like the weird girl who sneaks around with a gryffindor.

sirius furrowed his eyebrows. "what're you talking about?"

he sat up as you situated yourself on his lap. he gave you a confused look and you shyly explained, "well, people are gonna ask questions—i feel like we should be on the same page about this, whatever this is,"

"yeah, well it's simple, no one will know," sirius shrugged. he tried to lean into to kiss you again, but you pulled away, sliding off of his lap.

"what do you mean no one will know?" you questioned, your blood running cold as he looked at you.

"i mean we'll keep it a secret, no one should know and frankly i don't want to tell anyone," he said casually.

you blinked at him. "and why not?"

he chuckled, trying to ease the growing tension. "y/n, you and i can't be seen together, you and i both know that..."

"what're you on about?" you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly at the boy.

"well, you know you're a...slytherin, you know? i can't be seen with you, your house is what i've been trying to escape my whole life..." he said dumbfounded.

you felt your heart drop as you chuckled humorlessly, you stood up and paced the room, "i don't believe this..."

frankly, hearing this made you wish you had never met him into your room in the first place.

"what? y/n, come on, you can't be that way... you know what my families like, and they're all slytherins, what'll people say when they see me with you? after running away? it's laughable!"

your blood boiled. "how can you sit there and say that? so what, i'm shameful to be with? not all slytherins are the same, just because your family is from that house and they're dickwads—it doesn't mean the same for the rest of us!" you said angrily.

"i can't believe you're overreacting about this! it's just not the right time! i ran away from my family, to be with a real loving family, to what? be associated with another slytherin? i've worked so hard to be separated from that house, from that family, i'm sorry but i won't go back—not for anyone. you can't sit here and tell me that everyone from that house isn't exactly like my family!" sirius replied angrily. he stood from your bed as he yelled and you felt your heart twist, staring up at him with fury.

"you know, you sit here and talk about how terrible your family is and how much you hate them and never want to be like them," you spat. "but you are exactly like them!"

"you judge people, you act like you're better than everyone because of who you are or what house your from, and you are a coward and cruel!" you spat angrily, lip quivering. "get out!"

sirius' expression changed. he was angry. he was hurt. more importantly, he felt like you had just plunged a deep knife into his heart and twisted. but most of all, he looked numb.

"you know what? i will leave, i may be a coward, but i would've never said to you what you just said to me," he spat. he climbed out of the window, leaving quickly and quickly going into his own home.

you watched angrily as he did, unfortunately still caring that he made it inside safely, and closed your window and curtain.

you couldn't believe he had made you feel so stupid...

———

months had passed since you and sirius' huge fight. since then, you'd hardly spoken to each other—and if you did, it wasn't very kind exchanges. your interactions were filled with glares and sarcasm and irritability with each other—and james was left more than confused how something so gentle could change into something so angry overnight.

nonetheless, you did your best to avoid each other at school. did you miss your late night talks with him? your late night eating sessions? most of all, your late night arts and crafts? of course, but he had shown you who he really was. you didn't need to miss someone like that. ( and honestly, it had become really clear how boring you two were together—but those nights were the funnest nights of your life. )

"hey, y/n," pandora burke sighed, throwing herself in the seat in front of you in the great hall. you looked up at your friend and smiled slightly, "hey, dora," you replied.

soon enough, evan rosier joined you both—quickly accompanied by regulus black. you were close with pandora for a long time, but not so much regulus and evan until this year. pandora, who was the only one to know about your fling, attributed the newfound friendship with the younger black brother as a subtle way to get back at sirius—whether it was or not, you certainly enjoyed regulus' company since he matured as a person—and you had to admit, the angry and infuriated look on sirius' face when you laughed with his brother was priceless.

you glanced up from your cereal as evan talked happily about the new spell he had learned to mess with gryffindors, finding grey eyes looming over you as you ate. you flared at sirius, finding he more than returned the favor.

"hello? y/n? why aren't you listening to me? can you stop eye-fucking regulus' brother for one second and listen to me?" evan said loudly, turning a few heads. thankfully, plenty were afraid of regulus that when he glared at them to mind their business, they did just that.

"i am not," you seethed.

"you kind of are," pandora added sheepishly.

"leave her alone," regulus sighed. "he was staring at her,"

"that fucking asswipe, i don't understand what's so interesting about me eating my cereal?" you scoffed, turning to regulus dumbfounded.

regulus shrugged. "maybe he thinks you're pretty,"

"probably," pandora smirked, eyeing you subtly.

"i know i'm pretty, i don't need his validation," you spat—glaring at the boy who had promptly turned to join in with lupin and pettigrews conversation.

you turned to regulus and smiled nonetheless, "but thanks, reg," you grinned, hitting his side playfully.

"whatever, we should go...we have divination soon," regulus muttered.

"you don't even like that class," evan said.

"yeah, but i do, and reggie is my mini me, let's get on with it, reg," you grinned, pulling regulus up with you. bidding a goodbye to your friends, you and regulus left the great hall arm-in-arm—unbeknownst to both of you, a pair of grey eyes watched you both angrily as you left.

——

potions was a hard enough class as it was, given your head of house taught it and expected perfection from his students. it was even harder when slughorn had no sense of social cues and decided to pair you and sirius up today to complete a potion.

frankly, you couldn't put all the blame on slughorn. if sirius and james weren't acting like such idiots, then you and pandora wouldn't have gotten separated to be paired with them.

"can you at least pretend like you're interested?" you hissed at the boy who had put his hair up in a makeshift bun and kicked his feet up on the table. you swatted his feet to the ground, glaring angrily at him.

"why should i? you're just gonna do what you when you want to anyway," sirius spat back.

you rolled your eyes. you nodded at the wooden spoon, "hand me that, you twat," you sneered. with ab annoyed huff, sirius grabbed the spoon and placed it softly in your hand. his fingertips brushed against your palm and for a second, it felt like that comforting feeling of you two back in your room—hands intertwined under covers and lips locked passionately.

he pulled his hand away promptly as you stared at the cauldron, trying to snap your common sense back into place. you acted unbothered by the hand touch and resumed your potion making, a subtle scowl printed on your lips.

you turned to sirius, glancing down at your textbook before looking at him. "bring me the rat's heart," you said sternly. with an exaggerated, annoyed sigh—sirius stood quickly and made his way over, picking up a small jar of the rats heart and ambling over, placing it gingerly in your hand.

"anything else, your highness?" he asked sarcastically.

you glared at him. "no, that'll be all, thank you," you spat back.

——

after class, you went to the library to try and get homework done. as much as you loved pandora, you were easily distracted by her and you would really like to turn your stuff in on time.

unfortunately for you, goyle had other plans. he was some persistent 5th year who had a thing for you, which would be fine, if he wasn't a downright creep about it. you didn't even know the boys first name, that's how irritating he was to you.

"come on, i'll bet I'll give you the best night of your life," goyle whispered to you, trying his hardest to seduce you it seemed. you rolled your eyes.

"leave me alone, i don't want any nights with you," you sneered, shoving a book into its shelf and attempting to walk off.

nonetheless, the boy persisted. "you're playing hard to get," he chuckled.

"or maybe you're not worth my time," you scoffed.

his face twisted angrily as he tripped to grip your hip. "don't talk to me like that," he said angrily.

"get your hands off of me!" you spat, throwing his hand off.

"i ought to—" goyle began.

"get the bloody hell off of her," sirius spat, shoving goyle away from you. "when a girl tells you no, she means no,"

"whatever, you're a slag anyway," goyle spat at you before walking off. sirius almost went after him, but you grabbed his arm as you watch goyle leave.

"don't worry about it, thanks," you said nonchalantly.

he nodded at you, "any time, n/n,"

both of your eyes widened, as you both remembered the exact times he'd call you that nickname. you cleared your throat and walked off, leaving him standing there blankly before he eventually walked off.

you turned the corner, bringing your back to the shelf, and took a deep breath. why did he have to keep reminding you?

——

parties were debatable to you. a part of you liked the music and the dancing, and most certainly the drinking. another part of you hated to be around that many people at one time. however, you'd do it for james.

gryffindor had just won their game against ravenclaw, and james begged you to come to the party. it was rare you two actually spoke to you at school, but when you did talk—it was usually to ask for each others support.

you entered the gryffindor common room, your little black dress wrapped around your body in all the right places and your heels heightened you just enough that it made your legs look longer. you pulled off your cardigan, draping it over the couch that sat near the fireplace.

you quickly joined your friends marlene and dorcas on the dance floor—you, james, and marlene had grown up together as neighbors. so though you weren't as close anymore, you still considered each other friends.

"hey babe," marlene grinned, running over to hug you. dorcas smiled and did the same, greeting you quietly.

"hey marls, where's james?" you asked, looking around for your tall, messy-haired friend.

"uh...oh! doing shots over there with sirius, remus, and peter!" she replied, pointing over to the four boys. you smiled and the three of you made your way over.

"congrats james!" you and marlene exclaimed, running up to hug him. he smiled and kissed both of your heads.

"guys, these are my sisters! i love them so much!" he slurred, pulling you and marlene close. the other boys and dorcas laughed, while you and marlene chuckled. thankfully, james had showered before the party.

the rest of them quickly ran off to the dance floor, leaving you and sirius standing there watching them. you poured yourself a cup of beer, taking a small sip.

"you look great, n/n," sirius smiled. his cheeks were a bit flushed, but above all else, he looked sober.

"how drunk are you right now?" you asked, surveying him closely.

"never mind," he said promptly before attempting to walk off. you grabbed his forearm swiftly and smiled slightly.

"thanks," you said simply. he grinned at you, before walking off into the dance floor. he was most definitely drunk.

as the party progressed, you managed to be the only one to stay sober. every one of your friends was hammered, leaving you to babysit the group. thankfully, they weren't blackout.

"alright, here you both go," you grunted as you set peter down in his bed and remus on the one beside it. truthfully, you didn't know which was who's bed, but you knew if you didn't get them to sleep now—it wouldn't end well.

they muttered a thanks to you before the snores quickly began. you laughed it off, before walking over to james where he lied on what you presumed was his bed. he was sound asleep thankfully, so you swiftly removed his glasses and placed it on his dresser.

marlene and dorcas had already been put to bed, with the help of lily, who had bid you a quick good night as she went to babysit the two of them.

with a sigh, you went back downstairs to your last caretakee of the night. sirius, though you disliked him, couldn't be the only one you didn't put to bed. you sighed and crouched in front of him, being sure to cover your knees with your dress.

"sirius, it's time to go to bed," you said.

"no, i want to party!" he exclaimed through his closed eyes, pumping his fist in the air.

"yeah, there's a party in your bed, come on," you tried. then you scrunched your nose, "that sounded so wrong,"

he giggled. "you're funny,"

"it's one of my many talents," you replied. then, you stood and offered him a hand. he sighed and took it, standing up and stumbling slightly.

you allowed him to support his weight on you, despite the height difference, and you both stumbled over to the stairs. you took a few steps before he groaned.

"stop, stop, i'm going to throw up," he groaned. you quickly let him sit down, sitting beside him promptly. you waited patiently as he took a few deep breaths.

you both sat there in silence. you used to talk all the time, but now this is what your interactions consisted of. pure silence. it was a miracle he was drunk now, at least that would explain it this time.

he looked at you. "you know, you do look pretty today, beautiful even,"

"you're drunk," you rolled your eyes. "you wouldn't be saying it otherwise," you said—turning to look at him as well.

"i think it all the time, did you know that, miss know-it-all?," he chuckled. "you're captivating,"

you rolled your eyes. "alright, charmer, are you actually nauseous or did you just want to talk my ear off all night?"

"i dunno, i used to do it all the time, remember? i miss it..." he mumbled.

"yeah, well, that's not exactly on me," you muttered, loud enough so he could hear it.

sirius took a deep breath, looking at you with sorrow-filled eyes. "it was the biggest mistake i've ever made, y/n,"

you looked at him softly.

"i mean, you understood me. you didn't care what baggage i had. sleeping beside you that summer was the first time i'd gotten real sleep in a long time," he admitted. "you made me feel safe... the way you'd laugh, the way you'd touch me, all of it,"

he's drunk. he's drunk. he's drunk. he's drunk. you repeated to yourself over and over. despite the feeling of your chest being ripped apart, you knew he couldn't actually mean it. yes, you loved him—more than you ever wanted to admit. but he didn't feel the same, he had showed you that much.

"let's get you to bed," you whispered. comfortingly, you grabbed his forearm and helped him up.

he followed you up the stairs, before quickly entering his dorm with him. you laid him gently on his bed, sliding his shoes off. he looked relieved that you were there, despite everything in your body telling you to just leave. he had hurt you before, he was cruel—so why were you still helping him?

you noticed him close his eyes and you turned to leave, but he sat up and grabbed your hand. you turned to him.

"i still get nightmares, especially after we broke up," he admitted. you knew about these. they were scary and heart wrenching to watch him experience. you couldn't imagine actually having them.

"will you stay until i fall asleep?" he whispered softly.

every logical part of you was screaming no. telling you to leave and not look back. but the part of you that cared—that loved him, was begging you to stay.

and unfortunately, that part that was begging won.

"yeah, sure," you whispered. you sat beside him on his bed. you folded your legs to the side and held his hand tightly as he closed his eyes.

within minutes he was asleep.

you admired him quietly as he slept. his chest rising and falling, his perfect features relaxed in a perfect way. a part of you could stay like this, watching him, forever.

but then another part of you remembered what he said—and you knew he'd never feel for you what you felt for him.

with a frown, you slowly let go of his hand and stood up—making your way quickly out of his dorm. silently, you made your way back to the slytherin dungeons, trying to ignore your heartbreak.

——

a week had passed since your incident with sirius. you had hardly spoken to him and he agreed with you it seemed—because he hasn't talked to you much either. sure, there was a snarky comment here and there, but other than that, you two managed to stay your separate ways.

you chuckled quietly, shaking your head as evan and regulus argued playfully. pandora sat beside you, rolling her eyes at the two.

lunch was soon ending, leaving you and evan to have to separate from pandora and regulus soon. you two shared a herbology class, despite him being a year younger than you. he was rather smart, doubling up in certain classes to finish them easier.

"bye, you guys," you chuckled, as you and evan walked side-by-side toward the greenhouses. you quickly pulled your emerald green tie out of your bag, tying it around you neck swiftly.

you and evan linked arms after, continuing your way to class. if it was one thing you two had, it was the ability to talk about anything and everything that had little to no importance.

"yeah, and then i told my dad—" evan began.

"y/n!" a familiar, now sober voice called out. sirius quickly walked over, as you and evan stopped and turned around. evan gave you an alarmed look but you looked at sirius.

"sirius?" you questioned as he finally caught up to the two of you.

"can i talk to you?" he mumbled.

"about?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"it's important," he assured. "please,"

you rolled your eyes. "fine, what is it?"

he looked over at evan sternly. "leave?"

you stepped in front of evan protectively. he and regulus really did feel like younger brothers to you, now that you thought about it. "don't talk to him that way," you interjected—narrowing your eyes at sirius.

"i'm fine, evan, i'll catch up to you," you said, glancing at evan before looking at sirius pointedly. evan grinned.

"i listen to her because i want to, not because of you," he told sirius pointedly. sirius rolled his eyes as evan laughed and walked off.

you looked at sirius with your arms crossed. "well?"

sirius stood in front of you awkwardly, finding it seemingly difficult to look you in the eyes. "uh, i remembered today what i did,"

you stared at him, urging him to continue. you had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.

"that night at the gryffindor victory party," he added, finally mustering the courage to look you in the eye.

you shifted uncomfortably. "look, we don't have to talk about it—"

he nodded, "yes we do,"

"no, we really don't—"

"well i want to," he said sternly.

"i wasn't lying that day, yes i was drunk, but i meant it, every word of it. the way you make me feel, how safe you feel, everything..." sirius said. "pushing you away was the biggest mistake of my life, i should've never been such a coward,"

"except you didn't just push me away, you said cruel things," you replied. "sirius, you don't get to just drop that bomb on my life after destroying my feelings and expect immediate forgiveness! what you said hurt, it stung even!"

"you made me feel ashamed!" you added, hurt lacing your tone. "do you think i dealt with that easily? i fancied you, and you made me feel like i wasn't worthy of being near you. do you know how that feels?"

sirius pushed your strands of hair behind your ears, cupping your face. "and believe me, i will spend my entire life earning your forgiveness. you were never the embarrassment, i was. i'm so sorry, y/n,"

suddenly, like something had possessed you, you kissed him swiftly. you didn't know you could miss someone's touch so much.

he quickly kissed back. you pulled away.

"you still have to earn that forgiveness," you breathed out, "but this...is a good start,"

he grinned. "believe me, i will work my entire life if i have to," he chuckled, pulling you in for a tight, bone-crushing hug. one that you had missed for months now.

"believe me, i won't make it easy," you smirked.

bonus;

"do you have one in green?" you asked your husbands coworker. you were at a work party and they was handing out party bags, which everyone decided to match to their house while attending hogwarts.

your husbands coworker snorted. "what're you? a slytherin?"

you blinked at him, crossing your arms. "as a matter of fact, i am, problem?"

sirius slid his arm around your waist, kissing your head. "no problem, right alexander? my wife's a proud slytherin, no big deal," he shrugged.

alexander cleared his throat and his cheeks tinted pink. "no, of course not. here's a green one," he mumbled. you took it and he walked off, clearly embarrassed.

you turned to sirius with a smile, leaning in close. "thank you for defending my honor," you chuckled.

"well, anything for my wife," he laughed, kissing you softly.

#sirius black #james potter #the marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #harry potter #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #slytherin

[the-apocrypha]

DVD Bonus Features: Fanfic Edition!

I have like 6k of cut scenes from my last fic (the fourth dimension) and many of them were not cut because they were bad, but because they weren't working with the overall story. Seems a shame to let them languish on Google docs. So, for anyone who might be interested - here's two scenes that didn't make the final cut!

<<<>>>

The hourglass is broken. 

The glass is intact, of course, as is the intricate brass housing Dream had spent so many hours bending and curving into symmetrical spirals. It is the spring plate that forms one of the bases—designed to depress slowly as the weight of sand gathers, thereby stretching a miniature steel coil beneath such that it begins to draw back a tiny gilt hammer. When the full weight of sand is upon it, the catch releases, and the hammer strikes the chime. 

Dream had left the mechanism skeletonized, proud of both the ingenuity and the beauty of the gears he had crafted. This is what allows him to see, today, that even though the sand piles upon the spring plate, the hammer remains stationary. The plate is not depressing.

He has migrated to the window for better light and turned the hourglass every which way. The symmetry of the hourglass means that an identical mechanism exists on the other side, for convenient comparison, and it is from this that Dream is hypothesizing that the issue is perhaps with the pinion gear. 

He will not know for certain until he attempts correction. 

And herein lies the problem, for in a masterful stroke of arrogance on his own part: 

The glass is intact. 

His only options now to access the mechanism are to melt the glass, or strategically break it apart, and in either case hope for both minimal damage to the contents and an aesthetically pleasing repair following the—

“What’s wrong, dove?” 

Or rather, what Hob actually says is hǒu is th' problem, culver?, because Dream is standing in the kitchen next to an abandoned bowl of muesli, because it is breakfast, because during breakfast they speak Middle English. Hob is before him, coffee in one hand, breakfast sandwich in the other. 

“It’s broken,” Dream replies. Is brokæ.

“It’s nearly eight,” Hob replies, eyebrows up. 

Dream abruptly sets the hourglass down. 

“So you noticed the Astrid Alarm was broken,” Hob says, as Dream swings the freezer door open and starts shifting ice packs and frozen pizzas about. “And then you didn’t set a different alarm. You didn’t eat your breakfast. You didn’t pack your bag.” 

“This is unhelpful.”

Hob goes quiet as Dream frantically stuffs notebooks into his backpack, then a water bottle (too light, probably empty), the peas, headphones, and a sweater from the back of a chair that is likely not his own. Three binder clips go into his pocket. All he needs is—

He turns to find Hob waiting, Dream’s wallet in one hand, sandwich in the other, meat now removed. 

Dream accepts both, and heads for the windowsill. 

“No kiss?” Hob complains.

The broken hourglass, too, goes into his bag. 

Dream doubles back, cups the side of Hob’s face more for the sake of injury prevention than tenderness, and presses a quick kiss of gratitude where it belongs. 

The hand on his wrist stays him. 

Hob’s fingers fall comfortably between the three watch bands that lie there, his thumb over Dream’s pulse point. 

“Tonight, five o’clock,” Hob reminds him. 

Dream holds up his other arm in reply, where a fourth watch glints golden. 

“Ah, perfect,” Hob says, beaming. “Hob Fob to the rescue.” 

It is one of the many great failures of Dream’s life, that this nickname has persisted. 

“Five,” Dream agrees, and pulls his hand free. “You will be wonderful.” 

“Best in my age group,” Hob agrees proudly, and raises his coffee mug just as Dream turns around to make for the door. The mug is a custom job from the internet a few years ago, chipped in both paint and porcelain, but the original black with white lettering can still be read: 

It does not belong to Hob. 

WORLD’S 

LEAST 

PUNCTUAL 

WATCHMAKER 

<<<>>>

(Originally there was an OC named Astrid that Dream would birdwatch with every morning, and Hob had a piano recital in the evening. Obviously these plot points went, and so the breakfast scene had to be rewritten.)

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. 

It cannot feel the sun moving across the sky. It does not know the axis of the Earth, nor the ellipsis of its orbit. It does not reach into the fabric of the universe and pluck divine truth from the red-shift coefficient of the galaxies that hurtle through space as afterthought projectiles of the origin of existence. 

A watch begins with a mainspring—or perhaps a quartz crystal, or microscopic solar panels—but traditionally, a mainspring. This is where the potential energy is stored, to be released as the kinetic energy that will drive the gears to turn the escapement, which is what moves the hands of the watch forward, and would do so without rhythm or reason were it not for the staying hands of the balance wheel. 

The balance wheel is the best part of a watch. The most precise. The most expensive, for the precious gems encrusted upon it that almost entirely eliminate the enemy of constancy: friction. It is what decides the length of a second, for it is what checks the urgency of the marching army of gears that say go go go go go and instead says no. It says, stop. For one thousand milliseconds or one million microseconds or one trillion picoseconds, it holds the entire watch in perfect stillness. 

Then the second hand ticks over. The next interval begins. 

On, and on, and on, and on, it goes. 

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. It is a mindless contraption, a work of metal and stone and glass, and it grinds inexorably forward with a steady tick, tick, tick, tick, tick that may at first listen sound like the drumbeats of progress. But listen closer. Listen carefully. 

It is not a ticking that you hear. It is one small gear, striking back against the machine, protesting, crying out again and again: wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

(I liked this little meditation on the nature of watches, but it's a few shades off from my central thesis, and in the end was not needed.)

And that's it! Alas, sometimes good pieces must be sacrificed in the name of a greater project.

#dreamling #my writing #sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #idk if anyone will even care about this #but if you enjoyed it #you're welcome

[thefallennightmare]

Headcannon perhaps of Noah taking a breather after his show and sees you (a fan total rando) waiting for a ride after the show and he sees you being hit on and you're trying to get the guy to leave you alone but he won't so he steps in and pretends to be your boyfriend so he'll leave you alone

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion

Noah was exhausted.

A long day of rehearsals and performing in the sun took every last bit of energy from him.

So with the sight of the tour bus ahead of him, he couldn't help but be giddy for a full night's sleep in the hotel room bed.

Bad Omens had another show tomorrow night.

But there was a commotion on the other side of the barrier fence that made him halt in his steps.

"Come on sugar, just one kiss." A guy was towering over you, as you desperately tried to get away.

"Not interested," you kept your answers short, hopefully, the guy got the hint.

He didn't.

"You're out here all alone. Let me walk you home, make sure you get there safe."

When the guy took advantage of you, wrapping a hand around your below, something took over Noah and he was quick on your side.

"Sorry, angel. It took a bit longer to pack up," He said while wrapping an arm around you, and pulling you into his chest.

You stared up in confusion then utter shock when you realized Noah Sebastian was next to you.

"Uh," you blinked. "It's fine."

Noah glanced over to the other guy. "Are you bothering my girlfriend?"

Girlfriend?

Suddenly it clicked.

He was pretending to be your boyfriend to ward this guy off.

You wrapped your arm around his midsection, not trying to lose it over how good he smelled.

"She didn't mention she had a boyfriend," the guy gruffed.

Noah squeezed your shoulder. "You didn't seem to give her much of a chance to say anything."

The guy took one look between you two before shaking his head. "Aint fucking worth it."

When it was just the two of you, Noah dropped his arm from your shoulder to rub the back of his neck. "I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I just saw that guy not taking no for an answer."

"It's alright," you assured him with a smile. "Thank you for that. You didn't have to."

Silence fell between the two of you and you were still in shock that the man you came to see tonight, who you watched on stage a few an hour ago, came to your rescue.

He was more breathtaking up close.

"Are you from in town?" He asked.

"No, I actually drove in from Los Angeles to see you guys," you said with a sheepish smile. "I'm staying at the Hilton in town."

Noah's brow raised. "Small world, so am I."

Your heart hammered in your chest, finding out that you were staying in the same hotel.

"Well, I should head back. I need some sleep before I see you guys again tomorrow," you pointed to your car.

"So I'll see you again tomorrow?" Noah asked with a hopeful tone in his voice.

He could explain it but seeing you took his breath away. You were gorgeous and he wanted to get to know you.

"Same place? Same time?" You teased while motioning to the parking lot of the venue.

Noah adjusted the strap of his backpack. "Definetly."

The next night, both of you stayed true to your word and met in the same spot after the show and spent the rest of the night talking on the grassy fields.

As he walked you to your car at three a.m, needing to make the three-hour drive back home you felt awake and charged from your thrilling conversations with Noah.

"So," he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his Hereditary sweater. "Would it be alright if I got your number? To catch up once I'm back in town."

"Yeah, sure," you couldn't stop the grin that crossed your lips.

As you handed him back his phone with your number, you took the chance and left a kiss on his cheek.

"I hope to see you soon, Noah," you breathed.

"Definetly, angel," he licked his lips.

#tina talks #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens headcannons #noah sebastian headcannons

[midastouch-zaza]

A sequel from this piece

https://www.tumblr.com/midastouch-zaza/747923977422487552/jiheon-getting-ravaged-while-her-unnies-watches?source=share

where the other members of Fromis 9 call the MR to use him as their stress reliever. If you can, how would each member use the MR to relieve their stress?

[Hello anon, I actually didn't expect for someone to request a second part of this work, so I had to think about it quite a lot. It's tough to manage 8 girls(yes, of course, I'm including Gyuri) in a single pièce but let's give a try to this. Also, if anybody needs it you can find here the first part]

After the night when the members discovered how you really treated their maknae, the 8 girls decided that they wanted their revenge. Jiheon actually tried to reassure them, saying that it was normal to be that wild during sex, but her unnies already took their decision.

Surely the youngest didn't expect the punishment to involve sex, trusting the affection and the worries of her members. But I guess the memory of you destroying the poor girl was now impressed in their mind and, even if nobody wanted to admit that, they also wanted a piece of you.

They all decided to spend some time with you to use you as stress reliever; they all planned different things, someone acting alone, others in small group, but all of them with the same aim: fuck or be fucked by you as that night.

Saerom, being the leader, decided to work alone. She went for the simplest plan: come to your house and confront you. It was fun to see how quickly she switched from being all angry to begging you to not stop, while you were fucking her on your sofà. The fit girl was bouncing wildly on your cock, she really needed a good fuck and you were glad to take away all her worries, and you were even more glad to do her your bitch. When you finished with her, she just accepted her new role, sucking your cock clean;

Jisun, on the contrary, was the most tough to manage. From the first moment, she was really honest with you. "I want you to fuck me like you did with Jiheon, but if you fail, I will tell her that you cheated on her", now you were the one stressed. You really gave your everything with her, thrusting into her holes with all your might but she seemed to be insatiable. In the end after half day spent between bed and shower, you were sure that her sex hungry was satisfied, at least for the moment;

Jiwon really thought of being smart: taking you for a date and trying to get you drunk. Too bad that her plan badly failed when she got drunk first. At the end of the night she was slurring and begging you so much to give her a good fuck, so you just brought her in a filthy alley and fucked her like the cheapest whore of the town, filling her ass with your sticky cum while pressing her body against the wall of a building and then making her return to their durm while your seed was still leaking from her slutty shorts;

Hayoung and Gyuri tried to pull a 2vs1, acting all bossy and rude, cursing at you but without stopping for a second to glance at your bulge. Now, they kinda succeeded with their plan, using you as their sexual toy for an entire night. First they edged you for hours, bringing you so close the climax everytime but without never letting you reach it and then doing the opposite, overstimulating you until your body was twitching: their mouths didn't let your cock alone for a second, keeping to stimulate it even when you were sure about not having more cum;

The 2000 line went even rougher with you, having to satisfy Chaeyoung, Nagyung and Seoyeon alone was such an hard task; they were way more soft as characters but they were still 3 and they didn't have a particular plan: they just wanted to follow their own pleasure, using every part of your body they could think of: your cock, your mouth, your finger, your ass, your legs... every centimeters of your skin was covered with their juices.

In a week circa you fucked all the members of your girlfriend and now you were exhausted, but now all of them, for different reason, seemed to be satisfied and in peace with you. Now they had no problems with you fucking their maknae dumb or being at their dorm.

You were glad that things, on that side, were better than before; on the other side tho you had to satisfy nine women alone, eight of them without being discovered by the ninth. Rough yet interesting and full of pleasure days were expecting you.

#kpop smut #kpop thoughts #girl group smut #kpop x male reader #girl groups x male reader #fromis 9 x male reader #fromis 9 smut #fromis 9 jiheon #fromis 9 saerom #fromis 9 jisun #fromis 9 jiwon #fromis 9 nagyung #fromis 9 gyuri #fromis 9 hayoung #fromis 9 seoyeon #fromis 9 chaeyoung #saerom x male reader #saerom smut #jiwon smut #jiwon x male reader #nagyung smut #jisun smut #jisun x male reader #chaeyoung smut #seoyeon smut #gyuri smut #hayoung smut #jiheon smut

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

best friend!jay x fem!reader

genre: best friends to lovers, some angst / some fluff

warnings: cussing, slightly jealous!jay

word count: ~3,5k

a/n: ahh i really enjoyed writing this one!! but the ending feels a bit rushed so i apologize for that

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

you and jay had practically known each other since diapers, being best friends ever since you could remember. although over the years you had been through different friend groups, the two of you always stayed inseparable. in the end, it was always you. you and jay.

since you spent almost every day together, also now you were sitting on his bed across from him, your legs casually resting on top of his thighs while you had your laptop on your lap, typing away a report you had to finish. jay, on the other hand, was silently scrolling through every possible social media site to fight his boredom while waiting for you to be done. his other hand rested on your knee, softly tapping his index and middle fingers on your joggers alternately, as if tapping them along to a beat. being so used to his skinship, his soft touch didn't bother you.

after some more moments in silence with only the sounds of you tapping on your keyboard, you could hear jay sigh and saw him put down his phone from the corner of your eye. "how long are you going to work on this, it's been two hours", he whined.

you looked up from your laptop only to see your best friend pout at you, which made your lips curl up into a smile. "okay, big baby, i'm almost done and we'll watch your annoying movie after", you replied in a teasing tone. jay squinted his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, to which you chuckled before focusing back on your laptop screen.

"i think i should show her the movie too", jay interrupted again. "hm, who her?", you asked, rather inattentively.

jay clicked his tongue. "the girl i like, dumbass"

rolling your eyes, you finally looked up from your laptop again. the past weeks, he had not gone a day without mentioning 'the girl he likes' at least once. although you knew practically everything about him - and his plans with his crush - you still had no idea who she was nor what she looked like and whenever you asked, your friend would turn down your question, claiming you'd find out soon enough.

"yeah, you should watch this movie with her. i don't want to watch it for the 10th time", you replied sarcastically , earning another playfully annoyed look from jay.

"i'm serious, jay. stop saying what you want to do and then never make a move. she might not wait forever", you added, your voice more genuine than before. jay just bit down on his lower lip and nodded, looking to the side to avoid your eyes.

suddenly, you felt bad for what you had said. you didn't want to discourage him. it was quite the opposite; you wanted him to finally take his chance with whoever he had liked for a while now. you closed your laptop, not caring about the unfinished report at that very moment, grabbed a pillow from behind your back and threw it in jay's direction, careful to hit but not hurt him.

"you should really ask her to watch it with you, instead of me. she's not going to believe you're into her if you're stuck on my ass the entire time anyways", you said jokingly, trying to lighten up his mood again and in fact earning a soft giggle from him. he grabbed your laptop off your legs and instead pulled you towards him, your head hitting his chest softly.

"whatever you say", he said, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv while you got comfortable, resting your head on his chest and putting one arm around his torso. "now, it's movie time", he said, indicating you should stop speaking now, before starting the movie he had waited to watch with you and pulling your body just a tiny little bit closer to his. and words could not describe how comfortable you felt in that very moment. how completely comfortable and safe.

you didn't even notice that you had fallen asleep on jay's chest. it was not until he moved very slowly and carefully, trying the best he could to not wake you up. you slowly opened your sleepy eyes and lifted your head a little.

jay sighed at the realization. "i'm sorry... i was really trying to not wake you", he almost whispered, his voice soft and quiet. his words so carefully spoken, as if he could break you in half if he said them any louder.

only then you realized his fingers tangled in your hair - clearly the aftermath of having played with them while watching the movie.

"it's your fault i fell asleep in the first place. i always do when you play with my stupid hair", you managed to crack a joke, despite your tiredness.

jay scoffed jokingly. "stupid hair?", he asked as if you had insulted him. "you know they're soft and it's...", he stopped as if searching for the right word "...it's healing to play with them."

healing? the fact that he spoke of something as simple as playing with your hair as healing set something off. a weird, unfamiliar feeling in your stomach - one that you couldn't really classify.

"mh..." that was all you could reply, feeling overwhelmed and confused at the sudden change of feelings you experienced.

"you know... you'd make a good boyfriend. i'm sure the girl you like would enjoy having you caress her hair until she falls asleep", you just blurted out, mind still foggy by the state you were in.

you could feel jay's chest stop moving for a split second, indicating that he was holding his breath, before you heard him gulp.

"hm, probably"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

"i'm so going to win this time", you said, self-confident, as you started the last and final round of the race, eyes fixated on the screen and hands wrapped tightly around the controller.

you were so caught up in the game that you got startled by the loud ringtone covering the sounds of the game. you tried to catch a glimpse of your phone to see who was calling, going back and forth from your phone to the tv screen - the inattentiveness causing your game character to hit an obstacle, much to the joy of your competitor. as you lost the game, you just dropped the controller in your lap and instead grabbed your phone to finally answer the video call.

"you better have a good reason to call me now, jay! i lost mario kart because of you!", you snapped, before your best friend could even greet you.

mario kart? he thought. that was your tradition. yours and jay's. playing mario kart on a friday evening. but he was clearly not with you right now. and for some reason, it bugged him. a lot. why would you carry on your tradition with someone else? but did he even have the right to claim a shared activity as solely yours and his? did he have the right to get hurt or even angry? he wasn't sure, so he tried to shrug it off.

he forced himself to let out a faked laugh. "who did you lose to?", he asked, trying to make it seem as if it wasn't a big deal for him. trying to not seem too curious about who you had replaced him with.

you moved your phone to the side, revealing your competitor, before moving it back for the camera to capture you only.

"huh? jake?", jay asked, visibly confused.

"i'll get some water and let the two of you talk", the boy in question chimed in as he stood up from the bed, giving you a short smile.

you looked up at him a little too long for jay's liking, before moving your eyes back to the phone screen. "so, why were you calling anyways?", you asked as jake walked out of your room.

"him, seriously? are you stupid or do you simply not care that he only wants to-"

"jay. i asked a question", you cut him off rather sternly.

he let out a long sigh at the tone of your voice, at the way your words left no room for further discussion. and if he thought about it, he also didn't have the right to tell you who to hang out with, after all.

"did you hear about this new café opening next week?", he finally carried on with the original reason why he called you. you nodded in response, so jay continued "they'll have like a small opening event, i wanted to ask you if you want to go with me?"

"um... well, jake asked me already", you replied, your voice now calmer and quieter, feeling almost guilty for turning jay down.

"what did you say?", he asked hurriedly, as if in a rush to find out about your answer. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "i said yes. i thought-... you can ask the girl you like?"

"oh... um...", he started stuttering, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his head awkwardly, "i did but she already had plans that day"

you just nodded. another unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in your stomach. the fact that he had already asked her before even considering you was somehow... irritating? he had asked her. not you. you were the second choice, after the first was not available. and suddenly, it crashed down on you. worries, fear. suddenly, you felt this irrational, immense fear of losing your best friend. of watching him just slip through your fingers, taking your years of friendship along with him.

"you okay? you're zoning out again", jay pulled you out of the spiral of thoughts. when your eyes focused back on him, you could make out the worried expression on his face.

without thinking about it, you just started babbling out your thoughts. "i'm scared that this will ruin our friendship, jay". his eyes widened and he opened his mouth to object, but again was interrupted by you. "sorry, i-"

you didn't get to finish as this time you were interrupted by the door opening again and jake stepping back into your room, a glass of water in each hand.

"you know what, jay... we'll talk about that another time, yeah? i'll see you, good night", you hurriedly hung up before he could even reply, leaving him on the other end of the line staring at his phone in surprise for a few seconds.

i'm scared that this will ruin our friendship, your words echoed in his head. oh, me too, he thought.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the day of the event came by and you were just finishing to touch up your make up when you heard your door bell ring; the signal that jake was there and ready to pick you up.

the two of you drove to the café in his car in a comfortable silence, jake's voice softly humming along to the songs on the radio barely audible to you.

even after you had spent an hour or two at the café, trying not only the beverages but also some treats, the two of you still hadn't run out of topics to talk and laugh about.

you were so caught up in the conversation with jake that it took you some minutes to make out the tall figure standing in front of the table you two shared. only when you looked up finally, you saw your best friend standing there, practically piercing holes through your body with his eyes.

thanks to the video call a couple of days before, jay knew exactly where you'd be on that day. and with who. and for some reason, he felt the strong urge to check on you. an urge he couldn't fight, so he gave in and made his way to the same place. he just had to make sure you were okay after all, right? that's what a best friend would do if their best friend went out with a guy that seemed fishy. right?

but seeing the two of you just chatting with each other, laughing with each other, sitting a little too close to each other... he didn't know if he should feel relieved that your suspicious date was much less of a threat he had thought. or if he in fact should feel even more threatened. because what if you'd end up liking the guy with the golden retriever-like eyes more than your best friend?

it was your scent tickling his nose that brought him back to reality. only then he realized the hug you had pulled him in, immediately reciprocating the gesture and wrapping his arms around your waist. just a little tighter than he would usually do.

jake, still sitting on the sofa, watched the scene in front of him, biting the inside of his cheek while jay's head was almost buried in the crook of your neck, taking in as much of your scent as possible.

finally, you let go of the way longer than normal hug, a slight shade of pink covering your cheeks. you quickly sat back down again, taking your iced coffee and gulping it down as if it could cool your face and stop the heat from rushing to your cheeks. why were you blushing anyway?

"hi jake", jay finally spoke up, looking down to said boy, who just nodded his head in return. "mind if i join you guys?"

"actually, yeah. i mind.", jake opposed.

jay was quick to reply, before you could even open your mouth "well good thing i only care about my best friend's opinion", emphasizing the possesive pronoun as if you were solely his property, not dared to even be looked at by anyone else.

"geez, fine. i was gonna head home anyways", jake said while standing up, "have a good time together then". and before you could hold him back, hell, before you could even say something, jake was already out the door.

your eyes followed him until he was out of sight and then went back to look at jay. although he hadn't intended for this to happen, he couldn't say he wasn't satisfied with the outcome nonetheless. until...

"what the fuck, jay?!"

if you weren't in public, you would have probably screamed at him. jay's eyes widened at your reaction. in all the years you had known each other, you had barely ever raised your voice at him in a serious manner. but he could tell that you were very serious right now.

"i'm... i'm sorry, i didn't mean to- he's just not good for you and-", he started stuttering out, before you cut him off.

"did you see him acting anyhow weird towards me? no. cause the only one who's acting weird is you, jay!"

he gulped. "but i'm your-"

"my what?", you interrupted again. "my best friend? right. not my parents, not my boyfriend. you're no one to tell me who to go out with!", you snapped.

"just because you don't have the balls to ask the stupid 'girl you like' out, you have to ruin my day as well?" you finally stood up and grabbed your bag. "for fucks sake, jay, get yourself together." you gave him one last glare, before storming off the café as well, making sure to hit his upper arm with your shoulder as you passed him. leaving him with a shocked face and a mind filled with so many thoughts, yet so empty, not able to say a word.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

days passed and you did not speak to neither jake nor jay. whereas the latter had tried to contact you several times, jake had not reached out to you as much. you weren't happy about that but you weren't exactly hurt or upset either.

when it came to jay, a part of you was still mad at him, while another part of you wasn't. one minute you'd want to talk to him, and the next you'd damn yourself for that thought. safe to say your feelings and thoughts were just a rollercoaster at this point, and you were nowhere near sorting them out. the only constant: confusion.

the sudden ring of your door bell pulled you out of another never ending thought process. you stood up from your bed and made your way to the door, opening it without peeking through the small hole before. instant regret hit you as you saw who was standing right in front of you.

"jay?"

"hey... can i come in?"

hesitantly, you stepped aside, not able to reject your best friend, no matter how much you wanted to tell him to go home. after all, you had your reasons for not picking up the phone, not answering the texts. you didn't want to talk to him. not as long as you had no idea about what to think - what to feel.

jay entered, a big bag on his back and just naturally walked past you and to the living room as if you had invited him to do so. you followed him with quick steps.

"i never said to go-"

you gave up as you saw him getting comfortable on the sofa already. he opened his bag, pulled out his guitar and finally looked at you. then he patted on the sofa, signaling you to sit down next to him.

"i want to show you something"

you were, yet again, confused, but curiosity got the best of you and you decided to take a seat next to him.

"i wrote this myself", he explained further and although you were expecting exactly what he'd say next, it still felt like a punch in the gut. "um... for the girl i like"

without thinking about it, you stood up again, ready to tell him to just leave, when he grabbed your hand and pulled you down again.

"i just want to hear your opinion on it", jay said in a soft voice.

"fine."

and so he began letting his fingers slide over the strings elegantly, playing the chords so perfectly, while making everything look so effortless at the same time. his voice was soft, yet carried so much power. and in an instant, nothing else mattered. not what happened at the café, not his bold act of just walking in now, not your anger.

just jay's voice and the sounds of his guitar. so heavenly. and so not for you.

suddenly, your confusion sweeped away and tears started filling your eyes when the realization hit you. and it hit hard.

the realization of why everything about his not so little crush on this girl had bothered you so much. the realization of what you had actually felt when you had woken up on his chest with his hand in your hair a couple of weeks ago. and that you were not only scared of the friendship changing when he asked her out first. even the realization of why you were blushing after he had hugged you tightly in the café.

but mostly, the realization that you wanted nothing more than to be her.

jay's voice fell silent abruptly. he almost tossed away the guitar and instead brought both of his hands to your cheeks, cupping your face. his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks, sending goosebumps down your spine and although your vision was blurry, you could see his worried eyes fixated on yours.

"why are you crying?" jay asked carefully, as if he barely dared to break the silence.

you tried shaking your head but jay's hands on both sides of your face held you more tightly, almost like he was scared of losing you forever if he let go now.

"i'm sure she'll like it", you whispered, worried that if you spoke up, your voice would break.

jay inhaled deeply, his breath audibly shaking. "does she?"

you furrowed your eyebrows. "how would i-"

"do you?"

pang. your heart dropped to your knees. your stomach sank. your mind started racing and your heartbeat doubled its speed likewise.

pang. the next realization.

he had shown you the movie he wanted to show her.

he had asked you to join him to the event, but you had plans already.

he had shown you the song he wrote for the girl he likes.

for you.

all of those moments were about you, all along.

suddenly, the reason why he had never shown you a picture of her seemed so obvious.

the facts that he had never made a move and that he had reacted this way towards jake suddenly had reasons; fear of ruining the friendship and straight up jealousy.

as if to confirm your mind that was running laps around everything that had happened between you and your best friend the past weeks, you heard jay's soft words "it's you. it's always been you."

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

thank you so much for reading up until here. it means the entire world to me and i hope you guys enjoyed it. please do not copy. ❤︎︎

feel free to leave any feedback & interact!

- liz aka dazzlingjaeyun

#enhypen #enhypen au #park jongseong #enhypen jay #jay au #jay x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

[rainee-da]

You Rest Your Head On His Lap - 🪞/ 🎪 / 🍮 / 🍾 / 💧 / 💎

Work has been abusing wearing me out and I didn't have too much time to open social media lately so this one will be shorter than the previous one. Honestly can I just be reincarnated as a seal? please please please please-

Make sure to brush your teeth, hope you enjoy! 🍀

CHARACTER ❥ Doom / Famin / Epidem / Delisaster / Domina Blowelive / Cell War GENRE ❥ Fluff w/ slight Angst for Domina, maybe PG13? WARNING ❥ Spoilers!!!! and maybe might be a bit OOC, depending on how you interpreted the character.

D O O M 🪞

It was later in the afternoon. He just finished his training and was resting up on the nearby bench at the training grounds before you came and suddenly plopped down on his lap.

His whole body tensed up slightly at the sudden contact before relaxing back as he realized that it was just you.

"Tired, my dear? has your day been rough?" he said with a soothing voice as he ran his hand on your hair, a soft smile forming on his lips.

He learned his whole life to predict other people's movements using all his senses, but you never failed to surprise him with your antics.

And it never fails to lighten his day, to bring sunshine to his world that is devoid of pictures.

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon chatting with each other, with his hand brushing through your locks idly.

As you talk about your day, he listened quietly. Take note of your shift in tone and the quiet thumping of your heart.

He didn't mind doing this for eternity, with you.

F A M I N 🎪

He was in a bad mood as he sulked on the sofa, teeth gritting and eyes twitching. One more flick to his nerves and his place is going to be a bloodbath.

Knowing so, his aides understandably decided to keep their distance.

Not you tho, because you were somehow brave enough to stride to his place with a book in hand and plopped your head on his lap.

"... What do you think you're doing?" he said with a strained voice, punctuating every word. You simply answered him with a shrug as you started reading your book.

His aide is looking from the distance, mortified. One of them is making preparations for a quick mass funeral, just in case.

They instantly passed out in fear as their boss started to move, thinking the massacre was going to happen. They missed the fact that Famin had actually moved to hug you, not to massacre you. Or anybody.

His rage already evaporated into thin air, seeing you on his lap.

Get ready to be in his lap for hours lol. He won't let you go now.

E P I D E M 🍮

"... And the texture is all wrong! It's a blasphemy I assure you. Pudding is supposed to be a soft, silky cuisine and the shop can't even differentiate that with a freakin jelly! Honestly-"

You lay on his lap as you listen to him go on his tangent. Your hand slowly caresses his thighs to soothe him down.

Being his lover, you're used to this kind of temper tantrum it could be worse after all.

In fact, you prefer this to his scientific tangent. You can barely understand the other one after all.

But since he has been going on for more than an hour, you're understandably getting tired and you can feel yourself getting sleepy as your eyes fluttering and closing.

Noticing that you no longer saying anything, he stopped and looked down to check your face.

His face softens, seeing you sleeping on his lap. His body finally eases down and he caresses your cheek gently. His mind is in a state of tranquility.

Though you’re gonna wake up with a bite mark on your cheek lol. It’s just that soft after all.

D E L I S A S T E R 🍾

Everything about it is embarrassing. You're embarrassed, his aide pities you, and his family gives you a strange look, the only one who is not embarrassed is Delisaster.

How could you not be? It's a big, fancy banquet being held by Innocent Zero with so many nobles present. And here you are; laying on one of his son's lap.

And you can't escape either, because his hand is gripping your side tightly while his other hand is sipping some red wine, ready to tickle the hell out of you if you made any attempt to escape.

Too bad he's big into PDA too. More than once did he lowered his head to peck your nose or make out with your lips. In front of everyone.

"Do you want some?" He offers you casually as if it didn't hit him yet that he's being cringy as hell, and he's embarrassing you.

He lets out a hearty laugh every time you pout and whine about being embarrassed, clearly finding it to be amusing.

"Why so shy? you're my bae! N' best bet I'll show it to everyone! Gotta show them to whom you belong, after all~"

Rest in peace, you poor soul...

D O M I N A B L O W E L I V E 💧

It's nearing curfew time. You opened the door of his dorm slowly, making the light from outside permeate through the dark room.

You can see the hunched shadow on the bed jolted in surprise and the light from outside highlighting his face shadow.

"Go away," Domina stated coldly as he lowered his head, and you managed to catch a glimpse of the tear stain on his cheeks.

You didn't say anything. But knowing him, you decided to go against his words and walked to his figure before locking the door.

You startled him as you plopped your head on his lap, burying your face in his stomach while your hand rubbed his lower back gently.

This simple action successfully breaking the dam in the pink-haired man's eye as he started sobbing his heart out.

He started blabbering out his thoughts while his shaky hands hugged your head tightly, sharing the insecurities and the fear he held inside that had been tormenting his soul.

"Please don't go..." he said with a broken voice, as he caressed your face, "I love you... You're all I have... please, promise me to never leave me... Please..."

Both of you ended up sleeping while cuddling together, content smile formed on his sleeping face.

C E L L W A R 💎

"Stop it, I have to go," he whines, trying his best to push you, who is currently nuzzling your face on his stomach, off of his lap, "I have to meet Master, he'll be furious if I'm late!"

You quipped to him that the appointed meeting is still an hour ahead, and he groans in frustration, unable to refute your words.

He knows that the meeting is still an hour away, and it only took him a quarter of an hour to reach the location. Meaning that he had plenty of hours for himself. 

But he just can't help to work hard. He wants to please his Master!

"You're such a brat..." he grumbled as his hand moved to pull off the thorn crown on his head, and he leaned back to relax on the bed.

Your sheepish smiles earned you a soft chuckle from him. He stares at you with eyes full of meaning as his hand strokes your hair gently.

He wants you to find someone better, but he can't think of a life without you by his side. For him, you're his oasis. Anything you did seems to bring his dead heart back to life.

'I guess it's okay to relax once in a while... for you.'

I also wrote another prompt for all of them previously, which the latest one being this one. If you happen to like this one, you might also like the other one! Maybe, I mean, I dunno...

Anyway, thank you for reading! 🍀

#mashle #mashle: magic and muscles #mashle x reader #mashle headcanons #mashle imagines #doom x reader #famin x reader #epidem x reader #delisaster x reader #domina blowelive x reader #cell war x reader #doom #famin #epidem #delisaster #domina blowelive #cell war

[tiddygame]

Ghoap god type au part 3!

part 1 part 2

Their first official meeting face to… well, almost face. Soap’s doing his best.

[Disclaimer: I have been fiddling with this for ages, and just like everything else i’ve written, i’m not quite happy with it but i’m done looking at it. sorry if it’s awful lmao. also it’s around 5 goddamn thousand words]

Another battle won, another victory to add to the general’s reputation, and another fight that left Ghost feeling empty.

Part of him hated that he had become a disciple for the god of death. It was hard not to notice the changes that started after he first left an offering for the god. The way he felt a little less alone, the way enemy arrows would occasionally miss their target, the way the aches of battle faded much sooner, the way the world seemed a bit brighter. The way it gave him hope.

Hope was a dangerous thing. It tricked him into thinking he was meant for more than just dying on the battlefield. Made him believe that he could have a happy ending.

In reality however, Ghost would live and die a prisoner, having forgotten the taste of freedom. The world was not bright. It was cruel. If there were any good in the world, the other side would have won. Would have slaughtered them like pigs.

Instead, they lived to fight another day. Once the wounded were stable, they moved on. Found a spot to camp on a riverbank. As always, Ghost ran off. Let himself indulge in the falsity of hope.

By now, everyone in the camp was used to his routine. The only one brave enough to confront him was the general and so long as he returned to be his rabid dog whenever he needed, he learned not to care.

So, he left. Continued his search for more temples that once housed devout believers of the god of death. He appreciated the distraction from the real world, a short respite found in half-mindless wandering through abandoned cities or overgrown forests.

Ghost still knew very little about the god. While he knew the story of why the god had been forgotten, he still knew next to nothing about who the god was. They didn’t seem too bad at least; Ghost was still alive and has yet to be punished to an eternity of suffering.

He knew if he tried asking the god, (if he received an answer at all) it would all be what he wanted to hear and not the truth. So, he searched.

Most temples were too dilapidated to glean any information, but the little he had gathered seemed to point in a mostly positive direction. But he still needed to know more. He didn’t even know the god’s name for fuck’s sake.

Wandering through the forest, he wasn’t too worried about getting lost. It wasn’t so dense that shadows swallowed it whole and he could always follow the river to find his way back out.

Over the months spent on this routine, he’d learned a lot about how to find the temples, especially in forests like this one. It was rather simple: find a trail of slightly younger trees and follow them.

The much bigger, much older trees would outline a path that had long been lost to time. While hundreds upon hundreds of years have passed since the god was praised, the evidence was still dug into the earth.

Sure enough, after an hour or two of following a line of newer trees, he found a temple. It was the most intact one he’d found yet, all four walls still up, even if they looked ready to cave in at any moment. The only structural integrity was likely from the amount of vines slithering in through the cracks, acting as rope to hold together a building that wanted nothing more than to collapse.

The inside was surprisingly well lit. The holes in the roof that had been filled with various plants let in a soft green light. In the middle, extending from the back wall was a pedestal atop which sat crumbled rocks. As he guessed, taking a closer look proved it to have once been a statue that had either fallen prey to the passage of time or the anger of the locals.

Turning his attention to the walls, on his right was another doorway that would have led to a balcony overlooking the surroundings. Now, however, it was a simple curtain of vines leading to a pile of rubble falling down the hill. On his left was a wall of vines that was so thick, he wasn’t even sure if the wall was still there. But just peeking out towards the bottom looked to be the bottom edge of something that had been carved into the rock.

Curiosity piqued, he walked over and tugged at the ivy. Most didn’t even budge, but he was able to move enough to see that it was likely a mural of some sort. He hoped it was, at least. He was desperate for any information on who or what he’s been helping.

Pulling at the vines only resulted in his hands becoming covered in ants that had been hiding and he had a vague thought about setting fire to it, but there’s no way it would catch and if by some miracle it did, it would likely cause a forest fire. No other option readily available, he sighed and drew his knife, beginning the long and arduous process of hacking through each individual branch.

There was no easy way to do it. They clung to the wall so tightly that to try and slash them would just scrape the edge of his knife on the stone and ruin the edge. The brambles on them made him very grateful for his gloves saving him from turning his fingers into mincemeat. He worked carefully, pulling far enough to get his knife under the stems and cutting through them one by one.

It took hours of meticulous removal and a smarter man would have stopped a long time ago. But Ghost was determined now, he started the process and he couldn’t leave until it was finished.

He didn’t pay too much attention to the actual mural as he worked his way through them, waiting until he could see the full thing. At some point, he had to stop to light a small torch. Darkness having begun to set in, he didn’t notice he had cleared most of it until he took a step back.

As he suspected, it was a mural of the god, depicting some of his godly deeds. The original carving was already rather simplistic and the aging didn't help in deciphering what story it was telling. He was worried that in brushing off the dirt, the carvings would come with it, so instead he brought his torch closer and tried to figure out what he was looking at.

It seemed to be a set of stories, all of which featured the god as kind, helping people who were suffering. The first carving was of an old man on his deathbed, the god putting his hand over his eyes. The next was of parents watching as the god kissed their newborn on the forehead. The third grabbed his attention.

It was a soldier with a knife in his chest, the god holding his hand.

Months ago, Ghost had been in that exact situation. Dying was certain, and yet instead of doing whatever it is the god of death does when someone is dying, the god saved him. Healed a fatal wound with a golden scar. (And put a flower behind his ear, but he often elected not to think about that when remembering the event.)

All of the carvings were different tellings of the same story. For months he had been asking the same question with no answer: Why was Ghost’s story different?

Ghost shook his head. As always when trying to think about the why of it all, he concluded to not think about it. To just push it aside and ignore it. Whatever snake was hiding in the grass waiting to strike was too hidden for Ghost to see. Until the day comes that he gets bit, he will forget about it.

Pulling himself away from the third image, he turned back to the statue. The mural didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know and hoped the collapsed statue would hold some answers.

Sure enough, it was still just as collapsed as before. There were marks in the rocks that proved it wasn’t the passage of time that felled it, but the anger of a mob.

Now looking at the pedestal with the torch, he saw the shadow of inscriptions on a plaque near the bottom. Kneeling down to get a better visual, he saw that it was four words written in an ancient language.

ᓭ𝙹ᔑ!¡, ˧𝙹⟍̅ 𝙹⎓ ⟍̅ᒷᔑℸ ̣⍑.

He remembered little of the translation, recognizing the third word was “of,” and after scraping through his memory, he was pretty sure the second word was “god.” Either that or fish. His memory is not that great.

____, GOD OF _____.

Well, it didn’t take a genius to deduce what the rest of it said. While he was iffy on the translations, he knew the phonetics well. Excited to possibly have the god's name in front of him, Ghost made a mistake.

Which, he would like to clarify, he knows that he’s an idiot. Stupid, dumb, anything and everything between. Obviously, common sense dictates that when you find strange writing anywhere, but especially in an ancient temple, you DO NOT READ IT OUT LOUD.

However, as previously stated, stupid dumb idiot and all that. In his defense, he wasn’t fully aware he was doing it. It had been a while since reading the dead language and the old carving made it hard to decipher the glyphs.

So, not thinking, he sounded them out. Out loud. Reading a random sentence in an abandoned temple of the god of death, who was abandoned after claims of being a monster. It was not Ghost’s proudest moment.

But, he did manage to read it, saying to an empty temple, “Sau— No… Soap, God of… Death?”

He didn’t know if he read it properly. When he had learned the script, it had been taught with handwritten letters. How they looked on a pen and paper was very different to how they looked carved into stone. He decided to risk delicately brushing away some of the dirt, following the indentation of the letters.

He was still trying to read the plaque when he became aware of someone behind him.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he carefully maintained his position, not giving away that he had noticed the person. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he could see their shadow behind him and to the right.

Forcefully maintaining his casualness, he dropped his hand from the plaque and rested it on the ground as if he were just balancing himself. The other went to nonchalantly rest on the buttcap of his sword, holding it like it was happenstance for that to be the more comfortable position. He waited.

They did nothing. They did not move, didn’t take advantage of his weakness, he couldn’t even hear them breathing.

He had a sinking feeling that he already knew what was behind him. And if he was right, his sword would not save him.

Steeling himself, he stood and turned, drawing his sword. At first glance, they were not a soldier, thief, or mercenary. They drew no weapon and barely even reacted to his sudden advance.

It wasn’t human either. It… It “smiled” at him. Every fiber of Ghost’s being was telling him to run, run far away from this thing before it mauled him.

He stood still. No one can outrun Death.

His vision blurred but only when trying to look directly at the god. He was almost… translucent. When he risked a glance to the door, his image began to vibrate, like he didn’t need to hold himself together anymore.

Later, trying to recall any specific features would draw a blank. Eyes, hair, height — anything. He would question if the god had any physical form at all or if he just imagined it.

He needed to get out of there.

It seemed the god was examining him just as closely. Ghost tried to slowly back away, to inch closer to the door, but was stopped by the god circling him. Not having a secure exit made his skin crawl and he was sure to keep the being in his sights the entire time.

In the same way his eyes were warring over whether the god was there or not, he didn’t know how nervous he needed to be. The months spent offering whatever he had in exchange for company and help on the battlefield made him want to relax, to talk to him like he was an old friend.

The lifetime he spent being betrayed and getting used made him want to attack first. The back of his neck prickled at the reminder that he still owed the thing his life. He was not an old friend. He was a deity, the god of death, and would be able to kill him with ease. Ghost kept his sword level with the god despite being all too familiar with its futility.

The god, Soap, stopped his circling and stood in front of him, far too close for comfort. When Ghost backed away, he watched like he was observing a bug he found interesting.

The comparison was far more apt than Ghost wanted to think about.

“Your fellow soldiers call you Ghost, yes?”

It was the first time actually hearing the god speak and it was just as unsettling as he thought it would be. The voice reflected his flickering form, oddly deep and reverberating like it wasn’t meant for this plane.

Subconsciously, his sword slowly drifted down, no longer threatening an attack.

“…Yeah. How do you know that?” He didn’t bother trying to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice.

“I’ve been watching.”

Ghost didn’t like this. Not at all. Everything in his bones was screaming at him to get the fuck out of there. He readjusted his grip on the sword but forgot to raise it. He needs to get out. Now.

The god laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the first follower I have had in an age. What else was I supposed to do?”

Part of what made his voice sound off finally hit Ghost.

“The god of death is Scottish?” The incredulous tone probably wasn’t doing his life expectancy any favors.

“Aye. And you’re British.”

The god turned and began inspecting the rest of the temple. Ghost didn’t feel the true weight of the god’s stare until it was gone, now taking in several deep breaths as the pressure went away.

“Thanks, I didn’t notice.”

“I thought we were pointing out the obvious.”

The god smiled at him like it was a simple joke. But the annoyance was there. Even if the god was laughing now, that doesn’t mean he would still find Ghost’s disrespect funny in a few minutes. He needs to watch himself and be careful.

“Why do you look all… weird and shit?” Good job, Ghost. Real good about being careful and making sure to overthink his wording. Fucking hell, his own idiocy is going to kill him.

The god pouted his lip. Looking at Ghost with deceptively sad eyes, he asked, “Aw, are you calling me ugly?”

The god returned to examining the ruined temple. Even though he wasn’t looking, Ghost shook his head and raised his hand in a pause gesture. Gods have wiped out entire villages over less. He forced his breathing to remain normal, having to manually count it so as to not panic. Before he could backtrack and likely dig himself in a deeper hole, the god spoke.

“I am still weak. This is the first time I’ve managed to hold onto a tangible form.” Tangible was certainly one way to put it. When he ran his fingers over the ledges on the wall, the dirt and debris didn’t move. Brushing his hands through the vines led to them swaying slightly as if there were a breeze.

Ghost reminded him, “I tried giving you food. You didn’t accept it.”

The god laughed, “I know. The starving man giving the god food.” Ghost wasn’t sure if his tone was meant to be insulting or annoyed.

“Yeah?”

Soap sent him a look he couldn’t decipher, explaining, “Gods don’t eat. Not the way you do. Keep your food.” He made pointed eye contact with Ghost and winked as he said, “I prefer flowers and trinkets anyways.” He turned his attention back to the ruined mural. His eyes were wrong.

Ghost fucking hates gods. What the fuck does that mean?

He pointed out, “If you’re weak, don’t you need everything?”

“I am not that weak. Saving you hurt.”

Ghost prickled further at the reminder, taking a step back. Gripping the handle of his sword tighter, he defensively stated, “I don’t need your help.”

The god scoffed and walked towards him. Ghost tried to back up but the god was faster. The divine being put his hand on his ribs, right where the golden scar sat. With a furrowed brow he angrily stated, “This says otherwise.”

Ghost instinctively jerked away from the touch. It was staticky and cold. Wrong. It was somehow worse than human touch. He was tense, looking to see the gods reaction.

This was worse than dealing with an impatient, angry god. Those were predictable. This one has yet to give him any indication of his limits. Ghost didn’t know what would be the tipping point and could only hope that when it hit, the god would be kind enough to kill him quickly.

To his surprise, the god looked sad. His flash of anger gone and now quieter, he continued, “I was barely in time to save you.” If Ghost didn’t know any better, he’d say the god actually gave a damn about him.

But Ghost did know better. He stared at the third image on the mural. He asked the question that had been plaguing him since waking up from a deadly sleep, “You’re the god of death. Why… Why would you have run out of time? Why save me?”

He sighed, “Healing an otherwise healthy person is easy. Resurrection? Not so much. I do not control death the way people seem to think I do,” the god paused and sadly looked to the broken statue, “…or did. I can help people on their path but not change their course.”

The god was slowly walking closer. Ghost didn’t have much more space to back up, almost cornering himself, he had to angle himself more towards the door, following the wall. It allowed the god to get closer, much closer than Ghost would’ve liked, but it also allowed him to have a realistic escape plan.

Not that he’d be able to run from any god for long. The hope of success was a fickle thing.

Unaware or uncaring of his internal plight, the god happily continued explaining, “You were still on the same path, just veering to the left. Bringing someone back is possible, but not always worth it.”

Not yet learning his lesson about letting sleeping dogs lie, he poked back, “What? ‘They come back different?’”

The god gave a slight nod, “Sometimes, if their soul has been rotted or corrupted. But I meant the cost. Saving you was easy to do with all that you had given. To bring someone back from the dead… Well, there are some fates crueler than death.”

Ghost's eyes hardened, “I’m aware.” The god looked all sad again but he continued before he could interrupt, “But why did you save me?”

The god paused for a moment before simply stating, “You’re kind.”

Ghost scoffed and incredulously repeated, “I’m kind.” He nodded. Ghost continued, “So, you betrayed your own kingdom, domain, whatever to make sure I didn’t die because ‘I’m kind.’”

Soap smiled and for the first time since trying to touch his scar, reached out to him. “Exactly. I like you. You are kinder than someone in your shoes should be. That’s why I saved you.”

His hand hovered next to Ghost’s left. He was waiting for something. The god was still smiling softly at him.

He wants me to close the distance.

He’d rather the god have just grabbed him. Why was he waiting? Why was a god waiting on a mortal? Gods do not ask. They take. Why was this one any different?

When he was a kid, he’d run around trying to pet any and every dog that would let him. He would approach them slowly, holding out his hand for them to sniff. Some would approach immediately, but most took some time. They were half feral and scared of people, hesitant to even approach him.

At that moment, Ghost felt like a scared feral dog. He felt doomed, like there was no way out alive. He didn’t know if the deity was offering safety and comfort, or a quicker and less painful end. Soap’s hand was still extended, still smiling softly.

When a god asks, if you do not give, they will take. And will take more than they would have if you had handed it over to begin with. It’s best to give in before the consequences become worse.

He moved his hand into the god’s hold. It grinned. He tried not to shake.

The god rubbed his thumb along his hand, fingers trailing after an older wound that was on its way to scarring. The touch became slightly more bearable as he grew more accustomed to the peculiarities of the sensation.

After a pause, Ghost shakily contested, “I am not kind. I have more blood on my hands than everyone in the military camp combined.”

Soap, unperturbed, continued messing with his hand, watching the way his fingers bent and twitched. Not looking up, “I said kind, not a pacifist.”

Ghost tried to speak up. The god interrupted. The touch graduated into practically feeling each individual muscle in his arm, like he was trying to remember how a human body is supposed to look.

“However, if you want a more tangible reason, I did, and somewhat still do, owe you.”

Ghost didn't buy it for a second. "What? A god owing a mortal?"

Soap made eye contact once more. Ghost didn’t realize how close he had gotten. The god looked more human, but more wispy as well. His eyes didn’t make Ghost want to turn away before he turned to flame, but he could also see more of the temple through him. Perhaps their meeting would not last much longer.

“I’m sure you are aware that gods can die. the only reason I was still alive was because people would pass the ruins of my temples and remember me.”

He shifted to Ghost’s right and reached for his other arm. Doing the same hovering hesitation, Ghost simply nodded in approval. The god turned his focus to his right hand now, letting go of the left. He did the same examination as before, feeling over his knuckles and trailing what veins he could see up his arm.

…When had Ghost sheathed his sword?

His left arm tingled. He had to tell himself that he did not miss the touch.

“But no one believed in me. I was waiting for another thousand years when I’d be forgotten and could finally die. You not only saved me, but you gave me hope as well.” He accentuated the word by squeezing his arm, or trying to at least. He seemed to be fading fast.

With something in his eyes more earnest than Ghost was used to seeing on even a mortal, the god said, “So yes, I still very much owe you.”

The earnestness was gone and in its place, a joking tone as he continued, “Though, if it’s you I am indebted to, I don’t think that’s too bad of a fate.”

Ghost asked, “So… I don’t owe you a debt?”

Soap looked genuinely confused, “Why would you owe me?” With the way he tilted his head, he almost looked like a confused puppy.

Ghost was at a loss, having no idea how to answer that. The idea that gods just wanted to fuck over everyone they could for their own amusement was so ingrained that to try and put it into words felt impossible.

When he didn’t answer, Soap spoke again, “I like you alive.” His hands moved, one going to feel the pulse point on his wrist and the other sitting over the left side of his chest, feeling his heart. Like he was making sure he was still alive.

The confused furrow did not leave Ghost’s brow at the explanation and he was sure Soap could feel the way his breathing and heart rate kicked up at the touch. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to lean into it and beg him to never let go or skin himself to be rid of the feeling.

“Besides,” Soap said, making eye contact once more. He grinned. It didn’t look human. “I’m not letting you go that easy.”

Ghost ripped himself away, finally in the doorway of the ruined temple. The orange light indicated that dawn was well on its way. He could not hear any birds chirping nor any leaves rustling. It was still smiling from the edge of the shadows.

The god spoke, “I hope we can meet like this again. I had fun.” With that, the divine being stepped forward into the light and fully faded at last.

Ghost took in several deep lungfuls of air. He stood frozen, watching as if waiting to make sure the god did not return. In truth, he was frozen. When it came to fight, flight, or freeze, he thought he had trained himself out of the latter two options.

But he stood there, terrified to move. He didn’t even shift his weight. It felt like to move was to acknowledge what had just happened, and to acknowledge it was to cement it as reality.

A childish part of him hoped he would wake up to find it was all a dream. Forcing himself to turn his back to the door, he ignored the way his back burned at being exposed and unprotected.

He absentmindedly made the long trek down the hill and to the river. He detached his scabbard and kneeled, splashing his face with water, the coolness of it shocking his system.

He turned to the left and vomited. He was shaking so much he almost collapsed. Locking his elbow, he was barely able to balance just to wipe his mouth.

He turned back to the water. Took in a deep breath and submerged his face. He stayed there, pushing the limit of how long he could stay under. His heart was racing, demanding air. He could feel it rattling against his lungs.

Just as the dizziness and weakness began to take hold, he ripped himself up. Taking long, heavy deep breaths, he looked up. Watched as the last of the stars faded into an orange and blue sky.

Stories and warnings from priests came crawling back to him. About what the presence of The Old Gods could do to a mortal. If he was shaking, vomiting, and scared stiff from seeing him while he was still weak…

Good gods, how powerful can this stupid motherfucker get?

He hasn’t felt so… so… so much in a long time. His brain was warring with itself over how he should feel about the interaction. Part of him felt hopeful, thinking that perhaps he might now have someone who actually cares about him and not what he can do for them. Part of him felt so hopeless that he didn’t see the point in getting up, in doing anything other than trying to die before he could cement his fate as a god’s new favorite human plaything.

He blinked and forced his mind to stop. The birds had returned, singing once more. He stood shakily, grabbing his sword and using it to help him up. It sank slightly in the mud.

Day officially broke. In the forest, shadows turned and ran to hide behind the trees. Animals were just starting to wake, some heading to the river to drink.

Ghost stepped into the water, following it downstream and letting the rush of water cover his tracks. The rapids threatened to sweep him away with every step, rocks underfoot falling prey to the force.

By mid morning, the river led him back to the camp.

The other soldiers stopped and stared upon noticing him but did not say a word. In fact, they fell completely silent seeing him wading through water that would drown a lesser man, muddy sheath in hand, soaked to the bone.

He stepped onto the shore, walking at the same slow speed he had in the water. The general, having noticed the sudden silence stepped out of his tent, demanding to know what the problem was. Seeing Ghost, he hesitated before demanding his attention.

Ghost was already on the path towards him. Face to face, the general hesitated, mouth moving but no words spilling forth. Ghost informed him that he was going to go to sleep. The general had yet to find his voice.

Ghost walked to his tent. Dropped his sword. Lied on his cot. He stared at the canvas above him, forgetting to remove his armor and gear.

When he got like this, feeling disconnected from not just his body but his soul as well, he tried to take stock of himself. Mentally document every ache and pain, how his clothes felt, even what the weather was like.

Instead he became aware of one sensation in particular, one clinging to both of his arms, his chest, and a small part of his lower ribs.

Everywhere the god had touched him felt electric.

How long has it been since someone touched me without hurting me?

He wondered why his skin still tingled. Why he missed the feeling.

#soap is kicking his feet twirling his hair and ghost is scared for his life #soaps doing his best alright #old gods this old gods that. simon pretty much went into sensory overload because someone was nice to him #and two things: #yes the mural was inspired by the painting of the grim reaper in white #and this will be the last update to this but just for a bit cause i want to try to do something for mermay #emphasis on try #words have not been wording #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #queue #forgotten death au #me try not to over tag and over explain everything challenge (impossible) #once more posting this right before i sleep #if you’re reading these tags goodnight drink water and i hope sleep comes easily to you when you lie down

[son1c]

On the topic of chimera Sonic, Tails must be going THRU it

First a dragon like creature kidnaps his brother

then he has to venture into the dungeon to save him

then when he finds his older brother he’s not acting like himself and has feathers, wings and has the body of a freaking LION from the waist down

Then he has to presumably watch him kill people

And then after all that Tails finds out that Sonic died

That poor boy 😔 (im living for the angst)

And speaking of when Tails encounters Sonic again, does he find him already transformed or does he find him before in that trance-like state Falin was in when she snuck out the window in the middle of the night after she was resurrected? Or is it something different entirely?

Chimera Sonic is legitimately rotting my brain /pos

OKAY SO... i've been doing some thinking about this crossover... and i've decided that sonic got kidnapped specifically because of his gauntlet. which ofc he's wearing again now that he's back in the satbk world.

but why did falin want his gauntlet? well... it's not that SHE wanted it, but she was told to get it. and sonic, the stubborn bastard, refused to give it up, so she ended up just taking him with it.

what's so special about the gauntlet? well, after sonic left camelot at the end of satbk, merlina gave up her goal of creating an undying world. but... wizards are peculiar things, aren't they? she spent all that time studying necromancy. all those hours laboring over ancient texts. even if she's not going to go through with her plan anymore, she still has the ego to preserve her hard work.

so, she split up her research. the spells she crafted are broken up like puzzle pieces and scattered throughout the satbk world... and one line of it, she had engraved on the inside of sonic's gauntlet. (for nostalgia? maybe. but she also knew the gauntlet would be protected within the walls of the castle.)

but yeah. falin was ordered to retrieve the gauntlet. so that's precisely what she did. as for why thistle wants it... well, he wants to reconstruct the spell of eternal life that merlina created because he believes it will bring back delgal. so he's on a mission to gather all the artifacts with her spell.

right. so, sonic and tails. sonic was summoned to the satbk world via magic portal (exactly like the last time he went there). tails got dragged along because they were standing literally right next to each other and of course tails is gonna follow him through the weird sketchy portal! they don't call him sonic's best bud for nothing, you know!

but who opened the magic portal??? well, it was merlina. sorry for the spoilers. she's currently "missing" in the land of camelot, and she doesn't greet sonic or tails when they fall through her portal. like i said in a previous post, there's about a day that goes by where everything is... normal... and sonic and tails get to explore the castle and converse with the knights and catch up on the goings-on of the world and stuff.

merlina's deal here is that she's working with thistle. in the first game, merlina appeared to be a good guy until it was revealed she was the twist villain. this time, she seems like the bad guy... until it's revealed she's actually trying to stop thistle. see, she knows power when she sees it. and thistle is a huge threat. so, she's working "with" him in order to find a weakness and stop him. that's also why she called sonic back to this world... because she knew she was going to need his help.

unfortunately, things didn't go as she'd planned. falin delivering sonic's gauntlet along with his DEAD BODY to thistle shocks her. but it's fine. she can work with this--she hopes. things get a little tricky when thistle wants to dispose of sonic though, and merlina has to come up with an excuse for him NOT to do that.

cuz she can't let thistle know that she knows sonic. that would make her look suspicious. after all, she summoned him to camelot IN SECRET to help her TAKE DOWN thistle. so, she claims that she can sense an immense power within sonic and that he might be "useful" to them... so they shouldn't let him go to waste. thankfully, this works. and thistle is like "ok slay" (not his exact words).

merlina revives sonic with the magic she's learned from thistle. sonic then has about 5 seconds to process coming back to life, seeing merlina, and also some other weird elf guy before said elf guy steps in and turns him into a chimera using a bottled monster soul.

merlina also wasn't expecting this, by the way. but she's a very "ends justify the means" type of person and that hasn't changed. so, she promises to succeed in stopping thistle as she watches him turn her friend into a monster before her eyes.

#bestjeanistmonster reblogs #long text post #chimera sonic #things are different because i didn't want to copy beat for beat however. lancelot is still learning black magic for sonic saving purposes #rest assured.

[separatist-apologist]

Hot To Go

Summary: During Nesta's bachelor party, everyone agrees to pick out an embarrassing shirt for someone else. Emerie is game to play along until she realizes her long-standing crush Morrigan will be at the same bar.

Good thing Mor has a sense of humor.

For @ablogofsapphicpanic | Read on AO3

Thank you @octobers-veryown for the last minute moodboard

Fic based on this tiktok

“Nesta, please,” Emerie complained, holding the tissue papered bag sitting in her lap. “We don’t have—”

“Open it,” Nesta interrupted, crowned queen of the weekend by a plastic silver tiara. A white sash crossed her body with the words BRIDE-TO-BE stamped across it in purple lettering. Nesta wanted a different kind of bachelorette party—one where they spent the majority of their long weekend indoors watching movies and reading books. There was a pool out back they’d spent the morning lounging beside but tonight Emerie Archeron had convinced her older sister that they should go to the bar just once.

And then meddlesome, annoying, stupid Elain had made the worst suggestion Emerie had ever heard. What if we picked out bad shirts for each other? What if Emerie slapped her across the face, what then? Nesta would be pissed and Elain would cry, that's what would happen. Emerie didn’t want to go to the bar where she’d be surrounded by men in too tight t-shirts and hair gelled to the heavens. And she certainly didn’t want to spend the night pulling those same drunk losers off her friends only to get called a whole host of slurs she didn’t care to repeat.

Their husbands and boyfriends will kill you for fun, I’m doing you a favor. 

If only you could casually mention that to strangers. As if those pathetic dudes would listen. Emerie would have to call up Azriel again, and Azriel’s general demeanor would destroy the vibe she had spent so much time cultivating. Even when he was incandescently happy he was brooding. Gwyn would spend all her time sitting in his lap while Nesta, Emerie, and Elain all blushed furiously every time he spoke, as if there was anything terribly special about him. Objectively, she supposed he was handsome but so what? A lot of men were.

Emerie was the last person at the table. With reluctance, she pulled out the glittery pink paper that had clearly been put together by Elain. It was simply too pretty to have been done by anyone else. 

Unfolding the black material, Emerie groaned when she saw the image printed on the fabric. A brown meatball wearing leather bondage gear stared back at her. Even if she hadn’t understood the pun, the shirt ensure everyone would get the joke thanks to the white lettering that read: Meatball Sub. 

Elain clapped her hands together, eyes bright with delight. “I thought that was so funny.” Don’t ruin this, Emerie thought to herself. Meeting the brown eyes of Nesta’s younger sister from across the table, she forced an easy smile on her face.

“It is funny,” she lied. It was stupid. But this was for Nesta, and Emerie loved Nesta more than she hated the shirt. She’d bought so many nice outfits for this trip—tight slacks and even tighter tanktops, bodycon dresses that weren’t her favorite but looked good, paired with tall heels that made her tower over her friends, and even cute little shorts and t-shirts that showed off her body should some hot girl in a bikini be wandering by.

“Lets change and then head out,” Nesta said, cheeks flushed with excitement. Emerie shot a look at Gwyn, who merely shrugged delicate shoulders in response. They were sharing a room in the cabin Emerie’s husband had graciously given up for the next four days—if cabin was even what it could be called. More like massive-beach-house-worth-millions, but Emerie wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was interesting to her the way rich people described their things. This was hardly a cabin and yet to Rhysand, maybe it was. Maybe he considered this slumming it, somehow. 

“It’s just a couple hours,” Gwyn reminded Emerie once the door to their shared room was firmly shut. 

“I hate these bars,” Emerie complained, flopping onto the twin bed closest to the window. “It’s spring break—they’re crawling with frat douche losers that have never been told no in their lives.”

“You know why she really wants to go, right?” Gwyn asked, pulling her shirt off to put the offensive one overtop. 

“If you say Cassian—”

“He’s somewhere around here, and I think she just wants to see him,” Gwyn said with a relish. “He was giving her all that shit about staying in when she should be going wild. Now Nesta can show him she’s having fun his way, too.”

“And what happens when Az catches some loser putting his hands on you?” Emerie asked, rising up on her elbows to look at Gwyn.

“He’ll have to deal with it in an emotionally intelligent way.”

“Is that what he’s calling his fists these days?”

Gwyn grinned. “Just let her have this. One night of embarrassment for a weekend of quiet.”

“Fine.”

Emerie got ready like she would for any other club-like event, putting a full face of make up on and carefully curling her hair to make it look as though she’d come straight from the beach once she finger combed out the waves into messy waves. All that was left was the stupid shirt and a pair of skin tight leggings beneath.

There were never any interesting women at these places. It almost didn’t matter what she looked like, except Emerie took a small amount of satisfaction knowing that when a man inevitably called her an ugly bitch they’d be lying through their teeth. 

Gwyn had done even less, slicking on some mascara and tinted chapstick before calling it a day. Of the three of them, these types of places made her the most uncomfortable. She’d go only for Nesta, and was likely only smiling because she believed Azriel was going to be there. Still, Gwyn never tried to accentuate how beautiful she was, nervous of the unwanted attention—as if what had happened to her was her fault.

“Want to stick together?” Emerie asked, noting the way Gwyn’s teal eyes filled with relief.

“Yes,” she breathed, rising to her feet. Emerie tugged at the too-big shirt that fell just beneath the curve of her ass, wishing she was wearing anything else.

“If it starts getting rowdy, we can go somewhere else,” Emerie promised, looping her arm through Gwyn’s.

“I was googling lesbian bars,” Gwyn said with a grin. “There’s one a couple blocks away if you want to…you know…” “Shut up,” Emerie said, elbowing her friend gently in the ribs. 

“It’s been a while,” Gwyn pressed on, undaunted by Emerie’s obvious embarrassment. “And I didn’t like the last girl, whatever her name was. Too…”

Emerie sighed. “Unfaithful?”

“That too,” Gwyn said with a scowl. 

“I don’t think you meet marriageable women at bars,” Emerie reminded Gwyn, annoyed that Cassian had met Nesta in a college bar and was now marrying her. It had started off a chain reaction in their tiny friend group—Azriel was so obviously just biding his time, waiting for Cassian to get married so he could propose.

And then Emerie would be the only single person among married women. Would they even want to hang out with her anymore? Would they stay friends? It kept her up at night. Emerie knew if she gave voice to these insecurities, her friends would rush to reassure her it wasn’t true and she’d feel no better. She just wasn’t having the same luck in the romance department.

Squeezing into one car, Emerie managed to snag the passenger seat from Elain, who pouted in the back but otherwise said nothing. If nothing else, Emerie considered that a victory even if she was out voted and Taylor Swift blared the entire way to the bar. 

“It’s busy,” Nesta said, eyes scanning the line of people waiting to get in. 

“Send Elain up,” Emerie suggested, glancing at her older sister.

“In this?” Elain demanded as she held out her comically oversized shirt. “Don’t make me.”

It didn’t matter, ultimately. The bouncer caught sight of Nesta strolling by in heels and waved her in while eyeing her up and down. Nesta pretended she didn’t notice but both Emerie and Emerie did, glaring daggers from just behind her before handing over their ID.

And then they were inside. The music was so loud Emerie could barely hear herself think, teeth rattling in time with the beat. It was her job to elbow through the crowd hanging around the bar and scream everyone's order over the music before doling out drinks while watching the man who made them. Just in case. She didn’t like the way he was open mouthed staring at Elain, who seemed to have the effect on everyone who saw her. 

While the rest of the group made their way to the dance floor, Gwyn and Emerie secured the last high top in a pretty secluded corner where the music didn’t seem to be quite so loud and they could talk. 

“I’m gonna sit closer,” Gwyn told Emerie, putting her hand over top of Emerie’s as a man began walking toward them. He turned abruptly, realizing he’d have no luck over here which had been Gwyn’s obvious goal if her triumphant smile was anything to go by. 

“Oh, look!” she said, pointing across the room. It was, just as Gwyn had predicted, Cassian and Azriel towering over the crowd, unaware that Nesta was a few feet away dancing in a god-awful shirt. As Emerie watched, she found Rhysand holding several drinks in one hand and cutting a path through a crowd that parted like the red sea. She’d have looked away, annoyed by the converging parties had she not noticed who was walking just behind Rhys.

There, in a red dress so tight it might have been painted against tanned skin, stood Morrigan. Emerie was embarrassed by how hot she thought Rhys’s cousin was, and yet… Christ. Her blonde hair cascaded like sunlight down her back and her brown eyes were crowned with gold just around the iris, visible even in the dim lighting of the club. Emerie had never been able to get words out in front of Morrigan, so she just avoided her, embarrassed to be a cliche. The lesbian with a crush on a straight girl—it was a constant theme in her life, especially when she was younger.

She’d asked Nesta about Morrigan once, who’d gone on a rant about Mor sleeping with Lucien’s dad, and Emerie had dropped the subject. There was no love lost between them—apparently Cassian and Mor had a thing a million years ago, too. 

Still. She was the most beautiful woman Emerie had ever seen, and it was a shame that beauty would be wasted on some loser that would never really appreciate her. 

“Oh, here they come,” Gwyn said, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. Cassian had caught sight of her and Gwyn, waving across the crowd as Rhys set drinks down in the booth she bet he’d paid actual money for. He beckoned for the two of them to join.

“Gwyn—”

“Rhys will pay our tab if we go,” she said, silencing any protests Emerie might offer. Rhys did always pay when they were all together and unlike Rhys, Emerie had to work for a living. If he was willing to foot the tab for overpriced drinks filled with more water than cheap vodka, who was she to say no? 

They sauntered over, Emerie’s heart racing as Mor’s eyes fell on her. She whispered something to her cousin, who stood and traded places so when she and Gwyn arrived, Mor said, “Em! Sit by me.”

Gwyn was already—and predictably—in Azriel’s lap, whispering something in his ear that made his cheeks darken noticeably. So it was like that then, was it? Emerie plopped down while Rhys shoved at Az so he could edge out space on the end of the booth.

“What are you wearing?” Mor asked, her laugh more like a herald of bells. Emerie was flustered, breathing the same air and unable to take her eyes off Mor’s red painted mouth.

“Oh. Uh…”

“It was Elain’s idea!” Gwyn called from across the table, shooting Emerie a wink they all noticed. 

Cassian rolled his eyes when he heard. “No offense, but…Meatball Sub?”

“It’s a pun,” Emerie explained in a deadpan, forgetting about Mor for just a second. Just until Mor scooted, her knee accidentally brushing Emeries. Had she meant to do that? “You know, like a meatball sub sandwich? But it’s wearing a gag, like a—”

“I get the joke!” Cassian snapped, eyes narrowed. Mor tipped her head back and laughed, unaware of how hard Emerie’s heart was beating at the sight. 

“Are you sure, Cass?” Mor asked, leaning back against the padded booth so her palm was flat against the seat. Her pinky touched Emerie’s, causing Emerie to jerk her hand back as if she’d been burned. Was that an accident, too? She was terrified to look over and realize she’d read it wrong, and more scared to look over and even more scared to look and find Mor had meant to touch her.

Mor was just friendly, she reminded herself. She was always draped all over Emerie when they were out together. It was nothing—a mere accident. 

Cassian scooted his way out to find Nesta, still scowling over at Mor and Emerie.

“So,” Mor said, turning entirely to face Emerie. She pulled her hand from the seat to rest her head against her fist. Eyes wholly focused on Emerie, she continued, “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Oh…you know,” Emerie replied, suddenly embarrassed by the attention. “Nothing interesting.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. C’mon,” she cajoled, her free hand squeezing Emerie’s knee. “I want to hear about it anyway. I feel like we never get to talk and you’re so interesting!”

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god—

“You first,” Emerie said, unsure where that came from. Mor grinned as she leaned closer, unaware of how the movement pushed her breasts up toward her neck. Emerie could see from the corner of her eye, though she was trying hard not to actually look.

“Oh, you know. I got dragged along to Cass’s bachelor party,” Mor began, looking around the bar. “This place sucks but if I smile at the bouncer, they let us all in for free.”

“Nesta did the same thing,” Emerie told Mor. “Where are you guys staying?”

She nodded with her head in the direction of the DJ. “ Rhys gave up the cabin so we’re at the resort. It’s pretty nice—I was at the pool all morning before Cass dragged us out here.”

“Same,” Emerie replied with a sigh as she leaned back in the booth. “Now I’m out…in this.”

“Stop,” Mor said as she toyed with Emerie’s sleeve. “I think it’s cute.”

“It’s not,” Emerie grumbled, heart racing all over again. Mor was so close and she smelled so good, it was making it hard to think. 

“Is…is that something you’re interested in?” Mor asked casually, eyes drifting back to the shirt.

“No!” Emerie hastened to say, embarrassed all over again. “No, nothing like that.”

“So you don’t like being tied up?” Mor pressed, eyes practically burning a hole in Emerie’s skull. 

“I…I’m not against it, I guess?” she managed, reaching for her glass to give her mouth something to do. 

Mor began twirling a lock of golden hair around a perfectly manicured finger. “What room are you staying in?”

“The upstairs one with the twin beds,” she said quickly. Mor laid her land back against the table and this time Emerie noticed that while the ring and pinkie finger were long and sharp, the middle and pointer were shorter. Blunter. 

Emerie looked up at Mor, who was watching her with cat-like intensity. Was she doing this on purpose? 

“I have my own room,” she said casually, a sly smile spreading over a truly beautiful face. “That’s the benefit of being the only girl on a guy's trip.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It’s quiet,” Mor continued, dragging her finger over the condensation that had dripped to the table. “Overlooks the beach.”

Emerie offered a weak smile. “I’m jealous.”

“Want to see it?” Mor asked bluntly, sighing ever so slightly. “I’m bored of this place. Too many drunk guys that think every ass needs to be touched.”

“What about Cass—”

“He won’t care if I’m missing. I was invited out of pity, anyway. I’m sure you know Nesta isn’t my biggest fan.”

Mor was scooting closer, indicating Emerie should get out of the booth. Fishing her phone from her clutch, Emerie sent a quick text to Nesta and Gwyn.

Heading out with Mor for a bit—gonna get some air and talk a bit. Meet you back at the house.

Mor slunk off to tell Rhys, who glanced over at Emerie before saying something that earned a vicious punch to the shoulder. Rhys only grinned, gripping his arm, as Mor made her way back to Emerie.

“All good?”

“All good,” Emerie agreed, still impossibly nervous. They said nothing as they made their way out, fingers brushing each time the crowd surged around them, forcing them closer before they could spring apart again. Mor seemed comfortable with the whole thing and Emerie was jealous. She wanted Mor’s easy confidence. 

“I heard you slept with Lucien’s dad,” Emerie blurted out the moment they were out beneath the starry summer sky.

Mor grinned. “Yeah? I did,” she said without embarrassment. “I didn’t know he was Lucien’s dad, in my defense. He was just…some hot guy I thought was interesting.”

“Is that your type, then?”

Mor’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Do you not know?”

Emerie shook her head no, throat coated with sand. 

“I just figured…” Mor shook her head, her smile undimmed. “My type is tall, dark, and gorgeous. Lucien’s dad almost fits the bill…but I prefer women.”

“Oh,” Emerie said, unable to think of anything more clever to say. “I just figured…”

“I’m not opposed to men for a night, but I’d never date one. God, can you imagine?” she said with a laugh.

“No,” Emerie admitted with relief. “I saw Cassian and Azriel’s shared bathroom, I think I’ll pass.”

“I know, right? God, I used to clean it for them when they all shared a dorm room.”

“You’re better than me,” Emerie replied with a shudder. The thought of cleaning their shared bathroom made her want to vomit. She could only imagine how gross it must have looked. 

“Cassian got it together when he met Nesta. He knew she wasn’t going to tolerate pee all over the toilet.”

“He’s right,” Emerie agreed with a laugh. “Nesta is immaculate.”

“And you?”

Emerie’s stomach flipped over as Mor’s shoulder brushed hers. “I uh…probably not as much. I keep a lot of plants at my place so it’s…you know…crowded.”

“Plants? Anything else?” Mor asked, eyes burning like the stars overhead. 

“I have a cat,” Emerie told her, thinking of her little apartment back in Velaris. “Her name is Mist.”

“Like one of the thirteen,” Mor said knowingly, unaware of how Emerie’s knees shook.

“You like mythology?”

“Not really,” she admitted as they crossed the street toward the large resort just across the way. Palm trees swayed in the wind, breaking up the traffic nicely. “But Cass said you did, so…”

“Why would Cassian tell you that?” Emerie demanded without thinking. “That’s kind of weird.”

Mor’s cheeks flushed orange beneath the artificial lights overhead.

“I asked him what you liked,” she admitted. 

“Why?” Emerie, at least, could guess why. She wasn’t that obtuse, after all. Still, she wanted to hear the words leave Mor’s pretty lips, if only to put her mind at ease.

“You’re beautiful,” Mor admitted as Emerie rushed ahead to open the door for her. Mor thought she was beautiful? A breeze could have carried her away. “I just figured Cass blabbed.”

“Nope. He kept it a total secret,” she said, unable to help her grin. 

“Oh. Well…that…I just figured you knew and—”

“I have such a crush on you,” Emerie blurted out while Mor pressed the button for the elevator. “When I saw you tonight, and I realized I was wearing this shirt, I just…”

“Stop, I love it,” Mor lied, fingers skimmed the back of Emerie’s elbow. “You look so cute. Besides, I got to ask if you liked being tied up which made it totally worth it.”

“Is that why I’m here? To be your meatball sub?” Emerie joked, heart racing all the same.

“Hardly,” Mor replied with a laugh. “We can do whatever you want.”

“And if I wanted to kiss you?”

Mor sucked in a soft breath. “That would be nice.”

They were in an elevator—this wasn’t how Emerie imagined it. And right then, drinking in the sight of Mor who was nearly as tall as she was even in heels, Emerie thought he might die of want if she didn’t kiss Mor. Stepping closer, all Emerie could think about was how nice Mor smelled. Emerie just needed to know if Mor tasted half as good.

Sliding her fingers into Mor’s unbound hair, Emerie pressed her lips to Mor’s as Mor stepped back, hitting the mirrored wall with a soft, sweet sigh. Hell, she tasted sweeter than Emerie had imagined even as her lipstick smeared across Emerie’s mouth. She wanted to see it stained over her skin, too, proof that they’d been together. 

One chaste kiss became two, became a third, until Emerie was practically flush against Mor. She’d forgotten where they were until the doors dinged open and the sound of voices pulled apart. The pair looked behind them to find a couple staring right back, eyes wide.

Emerie wasn’t going to apologize and was grateful when Mor didn’t either. She merely burst into giggles before slipping her hand in Emerie’s and tugging her out. 

“Whoops,” Mor whispered, fishing her keycard out of her clutch. “Lost track of things in there.”

“Same,” Emerie agreed, heart thudding. “I uh…look. I really like you. And maybe I should go and just…call you? In the morning?”

“Or,” Mor suggested as she swung the door open wide, “you could stay with me tonight and let me buy you brunch in the morning? You can borrow one of my suits if you want and we could hang out by the pool?”

“I want to take you on a date,” Emerie said firmly, desperate to go inside.

“Okay,” Mor said, still standing in front of the open door. “So do I. Will you come inside, now?”

Emerie nodded, grateful to have gotten that out of the way. She’d sworn she wasn’t doing any more one night stands that ended in hurt feelings. That was especially important for her and Mor given they were going to be seeing so much of each other long after this ended.

Mor’s room was a suite, complete with a living room and a kitchen. The balcony doors were thrown open, allowing salty summer air to flood through the room. Taking her hand, Mor led Emerie down a short hallway to the room she’d obviously been sleeping in—the bed was still unmade. A little succulent sat on a nightstand and the room itself smelled like the candy sweet of Mor’s perfume. Emerie wanted to bury her face in the pillow and inhale deeply.

“You ruined my grand gesture,” Mor told her, closing the door quietly behind them. “Will you be my date to Cass’s wedding?”

The grin that spread across Emerie’s face threatened to split her in half. “Yeah. Of course I will.”

Mor exhaled. “Good. I’ll have the hottest date there.”

Emerie rolled her eyes, cheeks burning all the same. It would be her with the hottest date, but who needed to quibble, truly? Not when Mor was standing right in front of her, chin inclined with so much expectations. There was a bed right behind and if Emerie played her cards right, she’d know exactly how Mor tasted by the end of the night.

Indecision gripped her. Did she just kiss her? Touch her? Push her to the bed and strip her naked before committing Mor’s naked form to memory? 

“Get out of your own head,” Mor whispered, sliding her hand around Emerie’s neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you want me to?”

“Maybe,” Emerie admitted, the thought filling her with heat. 

This time, Mor took the lead. Slipping out of her heels, Mor had to lift up on her tiptoes in order to meet Emerie’s mouth and Emerie liked the sight of it. Or, maybe she merely liked the sight of Mor’s unabashed desire, a mirror for her own. It felt good to be wanted, especially by a woman Emerie had a crush on. 

She could admire her good fortune later. Right then, Mor was tugging her back, falling to the unmade bed behind them with a soft, dreamy sigh. She was so soft and smelled like almonds and cherry, her lips stick from the gloss over her lipstick. Emerie was drunk on the taste of her tongue in her mouth, obsessed with Mor’s soft skin beneath her fingertips. Blonde curls swirled around her head like an angel and when Mor opened her eyes to look, Emerie found her eyes so dark they looked as though they were all iris. Were it not for that familiar ring of gold, she might have been lost.

Mor reached up and brushed a lock of Emerie’s hair behind her ear. “You’re so pretty,” Mor sighed sweetly. 

“No, you,” Emerie replied like a petulant school child. Mor laughed and Emerie kissed her again, teeth clashing as they giggled. It took a moment for the silliness to fade back into undiluted desire. Emerie slid to the side of Mor’s body, one leg draped over her hip as she tried to decide what she ought to do.

Mor seemed to notice her indecision or perhaps knew that she was impossibly nervous. “Lay back,” she whispered with sultry eyes. Emerie did as she was told, fingers bunching the white sheets with more nerves. Mor straddled her waist before running a finger over Emerie’s exposed collarbone.

Mor pulled her leggings off, pausing at the shirt for a moment before sliding her fingers beneath the fabric to drag her knuckles over Emerie’s bare skin as she lifted it over her head. Emerie shivered, goosebumps trailing behind Mor’s touch, her desperation to touch and taste every inch of Mor reaching a fever pitch. She did feel a moment of embarrassment when  Mor looked down her body, hidden only by an unremarkable bra and a pair of nude panties. If she’d known…

Mor sighed, leaning to kiss Emerie again with more passion before. Emerie felt clumsy and almost embarrassed as she, too, unhooked Mor’s zipper and slid it down, but fair was fair, right? And she wanted to feel Mor’s breasts pressed against her chest, wanted to see if all of her was as smooth as she seemed. 

Mor was in a matching lace set and somehow Emerie imagined that was just how she always was. Every bra came with a matching pair of panties, every day was carefully planned. Mor was immaculate in a way Emerie could never hope to emulate, which only made her like Mor more. 

“What do you like?” Mor whispered, breath warm against Emerie’s face. “Do you like…?”

“Everything,” Emerie breathed. “All of it.”

“Everything?” Mor asked, amusement sparkling. With a touch, she had Emerie’s bra unhooked and when had she even gotten her hand back there? Mor cocked her head, golden hair spilling over her naked shoulder as she looked at Emerie. “Giving? Receiving?”

“Yeah,” Emerie began, rising up earnestly. “Let me—”

Mor pushed her gently to the bed, shaking her head back and forth. “Me first.”

“What do you like?”

“You,” Mor replied with a grin, unhooking her own bra casually before dropping it off the side of the bed. Emerie felt her brain short circuit, hands moving on their own accord to touch rosy nipples and soft skin. How was Mor real? Surely she was hallucinating and would wake up any moment in some dirty bar bathroom, still dressed in that terrible shirt while Mor continued to ignore her existence. 

Emerie got what she wanted, dream or not. Mor leaned down, pressing her breasts against Mor to kiss her again, and again, her tongue stroking Emerie’s with a feverish hunger that left her breathless and desperate. She could have died happy just kissing Mor. They were silk on silk, kissing like they had all the time in the world. Emerie wanted to savor it, to drag the moment out for an eternity.

Mor’s fingers slid down Emerie’s stomach, skimming over hip bones as she asked, “Can I?” “Yes,” Emerie panted, arching her hips just enough to offer full, unbridled permission. Mor removed her plain panties, leaving Emerie laid bare before Mor’s hungry brown eyes. Mor didn’t linger, dragging her lips over Emerie’s bare skin as she settled between Emerie’s parted thighs. Oh, god. 

Emerie gasped, tangling her fingers back in Mor’s hair, passion and need rising in her throat. Every little brush of Mors body against her own was a wildfire. Emerie couldn’t stop touching—Mor’s silky hair, her smooth back, the slope of her neck.  She needed to map out Mor’s body with her fingertips first, though she wanted to trace each soft curve with her tongue next.

Emerie gathered up Mor’s thick, blonde curls as Mor settled herself against the sheets, peering up for just a moment. Just to confirm, Emerie realized, that she still wanted this. Emerie exhaled a breath and tugged, silent permission to the unasked question.

I’ll die if you don’t, she wanted to say. 

“Tell me to stop,” Mor breathed, pushing Emerie’s legs further apart, “if I do something you don’t like.”

Emerie’s brain had stopped entirely. All she knew was Mor between her thighs, her finger slowly exploring the wet expanse of Emerie’s aching, tender flesh. Emerie had expected her to lower her mouth—or maybe she’d hoped, at any rate—but Mor was content merely to watch and touch, drawing forth Emerie’s undeniable arousal. Mor kissed the insides of Emerie’s legs, moving slowly upwards towards the thatch of trimmed curls just above her pussy. 

“You’re so pretty,” Mor whispered into the hair, kissing there, too. “I like this.”

Emerie sighed again, relaxing against the pillow. Excitement bloomed hot in her stomach, traveling past her navel like little frissons of electricity. Mor, too, took a steadying breath and Emerie wondered if it was possible the unshakable Mor was nervous, too. 

Emerie almost asked, but then Mor’s face was against Emerie, tongue licking and Emerie moaned, the only form of language left to her. Mor exhaled again, her warm breath fanning against Emerie’s overheated pussy. Emerie felt overstimulated already, keyed up and excited. Every fantasy she’d ever had of this exact scenario paled in comparison to the real thing. Every touch was soft and precise, the touch of someone who knew what she was doing and liked doing it. Mor moaned, fingers gripping Emerie’s thighs to push her even wider, until Emerie merely draped them over Mor’s shoulders. 

The sight was so erotic that Emerie could have come from that alone. Digging her heels against Mor’s shoulder blades, Emerie whispered soft encouragement.

“That’s perfect,” she hissed as Mor’s tongue lapped at her aching, needy clit. Emerie couldn’t stop staring, wished she had a camera so she could see everything Mor was doing with her mouth, too. Mor, too, seemed transfixed, eyes bouncing between Emerie’s face and what was happening between her legs. 

Mor’s eyes occasionally fluttered shut, the sight punctuated by the softest, appreciative moan. It looked as if Mor wanted to savor the taste of Emerie, wanted to drag things out as long as possible. Emerie wanted that, too, desperately counting in her head to stave off the building arousal pooling low against her spine. 

Mor’s finger rimmed around her opening, offering the lightest pressure without penetrating. Her tongue stayed firmly on her clit, slowly increasing the speed until Emerie was panting and tugging at Mor’s hair, needy and desperate. She was so close, was practically flying off that edge into nothing. 

“Oh God, Mor—” Emerie choked out her release, arching so hard her toes curled and white hot spots bloomed in her vision. Every muscle in her body was taut and she felt nothing, was nothing but the pleasure rolling through her.

Emerie sat up the very first moment she was able, reaching for Mor to put her in her lap, their legs tangled, bodies rocking together and Emerie kissed Mor hungrily. She could taste her own arousal on Mor’s mouth, her tongue chasing after it greedily. 

Emerie slid her hand between their bodies, delighted to feel Mor was practically dripping wet.

“You don’t have–”

“Please?” Was all Emerie could think to say. She wanted to reciprocate like she’d never wanted in her life. Mor kissed her again and again, each kiss sliding one to the other until Emerie was dizzy and needy again. Emerie forced herself to focus, repositioning them so it was Mor back against the pillows and Emerie straddling her body. 

Emerie could still feel the remnants of that orgasm throbbing through her, prompting her to rub against Mor even as she mimicked everything Mor had done. Feyer was clumsier, too needy to be half as sensual as Mor had been. Still, Mor whined when Emerie reached for a nipple, rolling it between her fingers until it was stiff and rosy red. The same color as Mor’s lipstick stained mouth. 

Emerie experimented, grazing her teeth just a little. Mor moaned, eyes rolling upwards in her skull as her body undulated against Emerie’s. It was enough to keep Emerie going, to suck and nip and lick until Mor was practically panting, her tanned skin flushed the prettiest shade of pink.

Every inch of Mor was a dream—smooth, lush curves were soft beneath Emerie’s wandering hands. She marveled as she slid lower and lower, suddenly eye level with Mor’s glistening, pink pussy. 

Fuck she was beautiful. 

Emerie stared a beat too long before she couldn’t stop herself from spreading Mor open wider, parting to truly look.

“Is this what you want?” Emerie whispered.

“Please,” came Mor’s trembling reply. That was the confidence Emerie needed to lower her mouth and take that first taste. 

It was nothing like she’d imagined and better than she’d ever expected. Her whole body lit up at the musky sweetness of Mor’s body and the way Mor’s thighs trembled around Emerie’s head. Emerie enthusiastically swiped again, licking only for herself in that first moment. Just to know, to become accustomed to the wet, slick, soft feel of Mor’s pussy and how it made her own body feel.

Her arousal sharpened when Mor dragged her long nails over Emerie’s scalp, holding her hair while watching with intensely dark eyes. Emerie focused, thinking of what Mor had done for her. She swirled her tongue over the trembling nub of flesh and was rewarded with a breathy, “Oh God, don’t stop.” As if Emerie could. She replicated what Mor had done with her finger, pushing just against the opening of her pussy and circling, her tongue steady and hot. Mor writhed against her face, coating her in the slick release building in her body. And when Mor came with a breathy cry, Emerie felt it reverberate in her chest. 

It was Mor who reached for her this time, dragging her up to lay on her side so they could press their bodies against the other and kiss. Emerie tangled her arms around Mors neck while Mor caressed her face, their combined release erotic in Emerie’s mouth. Nothing had ever tasted better and she found herself wanting Mor again just as soon as she caught her breath.

Mor leaned her arm over the edge of the bed, picking up Emerie’s ugly shirt. “Can I have this?” she asked, mascara smeared just beneath her eyes.

“Why?”

“It smells like you,” Mor said, pressing the fabric against her nose. “And I think it's funny.”

Propping her head up on her fist, Emerie smiled. “Is that all it takes? One bad shirt?”

“What can I say,” Mor replied, pressing a kiss to Emerie’s cheek. “I’m easy.”

Emerie only smiled.  

#emorie #morrigan #emerie of illyria #bisexual mor just so you know

[saragarnier]

Away from you pt.2

pairing: Jay halsted x reader

summary: when y/n found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her she left Chicago, without saying a word.

warning: Angst maybe and bad english since it's not my first language.

A/N: i'm actually thinking about writing a part 3, but i'm not sure.

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Previous part, next part

When Jay got home that night, he went straight to the bedroom, without noticing your absence at once; he was really tired after the intense day at work and after the night he spent with Hailey. He was feeling guilty about it, obviously, but he could find the courage, he just couldn’t tell his future wife that he completely messed up with everything. He loved her, he really loved y/n and he didn’t want to lose her, even if she would have all the rights to do it, after all he cheated on her, just few months before the wedding.

Jay was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realise that she wasn’t still at home; he removed the badge and the gun from his belt, placing them silently on the bedside table, then he looked around and he finally noticed that you weren’t sleeping in the bed. He frowned, looking around and trying to understand where you were; he couldn’t hear the noise of the shower and the bathroom’s door was open, so you couldn’t be there either. He searched the entire home, then he took his phone out and he messaged you, hoping that you still were with Kim outside.

He tried to not get worried, but he couldn.t help himself when he saw that the message hadn't been sent successfully; he stayed awake for another hour, before falling asleep on the couch, waiting for your return.

He woke up the next day, feeling pain all over his body because of the position he fell asleep with; he looked around and he got up, searching all the house to find you. The bed was still done, and it didn’t seem like someone slept in it the other night, so it was clear that you didn’t come back home.

Feeling his hear skipping a beat because of his worry.

Why didn’t she come back home?

Had something happened last night?

Was she in danger?

He grabbed his phone and called for Kim straight away, walking all around the house while waiting for her to respond. He knew that it was still early in the morning, and he didn’t want to wake her up, but he had no choice. Y/n could have been in danger, something could have happened to her while she was coming back home, and he needed to know at what time Kim and her left the bar.

“Jay, it’s six in the morning, what’s happening?” Kim whispered when she answered the phone, seeing Jay’s name on the screen.

“Is y/n with you? Did something strange happened yesterday? Did she leave the bar after a call from the hospital?” Jay questioned her without taking a single breath. He just wanted to know if you were okay, if you were with her, maybe after drinking too many beers. He couldn’t understand for what reason you didn’t come home last night and he couldn’t believe that something bad happened to you or he would have known by that moment, his brother Will would have advised you.

“What? No, she left around ten pm and she walked away saying that he needed to do something… why? Did something happen?” Kim got up from her bed immediately, especially after hearing his tone of voice and hearing how worried he seemed to be.

“Fuck.” He exclaimed, shaking his head, still walking all around the house; he grabbed his badge and his gun, then he left the apartment without even reaching for his jacket. It wasn’t cold outside, but you definitely needed to have a jacket with you all the time in Chicago, at least till the begin of the summer. “She didn’t come back home last night and she doesn’t respond to my messages or my calls. I’m going to call Mouse and to make him track her phone, after that I’ll call Voight if I notice something strange, okay?”

“Shit…” Kim whispered, worried. “Tell me if you find out something, okay? “

“Sure.” Jay reassured her, then he hung up and he called Mouse instead.

He waited for almost a minute before his friend answered the phone, still in his dreams; Jay could tell just by his voice that he woke up Mouse and that he wasn’t really happy about that, but he just couldn’t wait any longer, especially if something bad happened to you.

How could he have been so stupid?

You were never late, he should have called Mouse and Kim the night before, he should have called them before to make sure that you were okay. What if someone kidnapped you? What if someone hurt you?

It would have been his fault.

It would have been his fault because you went out with Kim alone because he wanted to spend the evening with Hailey, he would have been his fault because he should have called for help immediately, he would have been his fault because he wasn’t by your side.

“Mouse, I need you to track y/n’ phone right now!” Jay said without waiting a minute.

“What do you guys have with tracking each other phones, uh?” Mouse replied, mumbling something about last night, when you called him.

Jay froze at hi friend’s words; he pulled up and he parked the car before crashing into someone else, then he took a deep breath and he try to stay focused on Mouse.

“Wait… what does that mean?” He whispered, afraid of what he could have discovered.

“She asked me to track your phone yesterday’s night… she seemed worried about you falling again into ptsd and I immediately tracked your phone. I told her that you were in your older apartment and that’s it, I didn’t hear from her after that.”

In that moment, all the dots connected.

That’s why Kim said you left earlier that’s why he noticed the backup- key in the wrong position, that’s why she didn’t come back home and that’s why she didn’t respond to his messages or calls.

She knew.

She found out.

He messed up and she knew it.

Jay stayed silent for what looks like hours, even days for him, even if it was probably for just one minute or two. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice he was crying, not until he was brought back to reality from Mouse.

“Uhm… Jay, there’s a problem…” he whispered. “I can’t track y/n’ phone, it’s like it’s dead. Maybe she didn’t have the chance to charge it? But why did you need her location? Is she with you?”

Jay gulped, looking outside of the car, looking at everything and nothing at the same time. he was like a ghost, he felt like a ghost, he felt like he was dead, like he lost all.

And he did.

If she really saw him with Hailey, he knew that he lost the love of his life, and all for what? Some sex with his partner at work? He said he loved Hailey, he always said it when they fucked, but while doing it he always thought about y/n, about the love of his life. It’ didn’t make sense, it didn’t make sense for him either and he didn’t expect the others to understand, that’s why he never told you or anyone else, even if he really wanted to after the first time he and Hailey had sex together.

“Jay?” Mouse asked again, worried when he didn’t hear anything from his friend for minutes. “Are you okay?”

“I ruined everything, Mouse.” He whispered at the phone, crying silently. “I lost her… I think she broke up with me… I think she left…”

“What?! What does that mean? She couldn’t have done it, couldn’t she? Why?” Mouse didn’t really understand what was happening between his friend and his friend’s fiancé, but it was clear that something bad happened between them since he heard Jay crying on the other line of the call.

“I cheated on her… I cheated on her and I think she found out… she didn’t come home last night, she doesn’t respond to messages and calls… I don’t know where to find her, I don’t know where to find her to talk to her and explain everything to her. She had all the rights to know the truth from me, but I can’t do it if I can’t reach for her.”

Mouse stayed silent for some minutes, then he had an idea.

“She works at the hospital, maybe she’s there, no? It’s seven am and she had to present her resignation letter if she really wants to leave Chicago, no? Maybe she’s at the hospital to do it, maybe you still have time.”

It was one last hope and Jay accepted it; Jay took it immediately.

“I’ll call you from the hospital. Thank you, Mouse.”

He hung up, dried his cheeks from the tears and he drove towards the Chicago Medical Center as soon as he could; when he arrived, he met his brother, Will, but he was to focused on finding y/n, so he ignored him and went straight towards Meggie. Before he could ask her where his fiancé was, Jay got stopped by Will, who pushed him into an empty room.

“Will I do nit have time for this right now!” Jay exclaimed, trying to go out go the room to find you.

“Well, you’ll have to find some time because I want to know why y/n presented her resignation form on a fucking mail!”

And that was when Jay lost his last hope.

“W-What?” he whispered, sitting on an empty chair before falling on the ground. “She left?”

It was too late.

He arrived too late.

Will nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder, and trying to reassure her in any way possible.

“What happened, Jay?”

“I fucked up… I fucked up and I lost her, Will.” He whispered. “I lost her.”

And it was true.

He lost you.

And the best part was that being a detective’s fiancé helped you to find a way to be invisible.

New phone.

Only cash.

Being a ghost.

You didn’t want to be found, especially not by him and, while he was crying on his brother’s shoulder about losing the love of his life, you were landing in New York city, trying to find a way to hang on, trying to start a new life.

A life away from him.

Away from the last version of you.

#oneshot #fluff #angst #chicago pd #fanfic #jay halstead #chicago fire #chicago med #adam ruzek #hailey upton #will halstead #hank voight #kevin atwater #kim burgess #greg gerwitz