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aohisworld · 1 day

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BROKEN CD

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ when the world picks on Aohi, she crumbles gently, and Ri-ki’s there to put her back together, piece by piece.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ nishimura ri-ki x addedmember!oc. mentions of poly!ot7 x addedmember!oc, contains. cringe writing, angst (as always).

| : ̗̀➛ MINTIE’s NOTES: a little self-indulgent because I feel like poopoo honestly 😞 I apologize if this mini- drabble? fic? Is short, I really barely have any time to write to my pieces, and I can only offer you guys these small little fics 😭

| : ̗̀➛ WARNING! How I write ENHYPEN is not meant to portray the idols irl, this is my au and I write this for fun.

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭No one’s a stranger to the familiar feeling of coming back down from a successful peak, the sudden feeling of clouded thoughts or the slow burn-out of your sociality or productivity being a familiar dull sting to your body and mind.

And sometimes you can’t understand just why you have to burn out, and with that comes along frustrations, anger, the tantrums inside your mind when nothing goes your way when you’ve already had a bad day.

Aohi’s world dulls to grey for a little while, the exhausting schedule and the upcoming recording for memorabilia took a lot out of her.

All she wanted was to sleep, maybe for a week straight, if she could, she’d hibernate like a bear. Aohi knows she can’t though, engenes would miss her too much.

Despite her frustrations with the slightly wrong tones or the wrong words being sung out, she trudges on, continuing to work, to rewrite, to practice.

She’s repaid by the loss of her voice, and recording’s been pulled back a week later due to the sudden situation. Aohi sits in her seat speechless when her manager explains it on the way to the studio.

“But then, why am I going if I’m being put on vocal rest?” Aohi’s voice croaks out. In a comical way, she sounded like a Justin Bieber when he was in his teens, cracking and going airy from time to time.

“I didn’t want you to come in either, but the studio was insistent on it,” Aohi groans, despite how hurtful it was on her throat. “Trust me, I tried to fight for a day off, all I could do was move your session to a later time tomorrow.”

“I can’t even do anything at the studio, the whole point of a vocal rest is so I could rest!”

“First off, stop yelling, don’t use your voice-“ Her manager looked up at the rear view mirror, shooting her a glance that told Aohi to fix her attitude.

"Second, just get through this recording, it'll be over before you know it.."

Aohi just rolled her eyes, feeling already irked that she had to come in today. Aohi stared out the window as she ended up tuning out her manager’s voice and locking herself inside her mind.

There wasn’t much to do for her especially when she had a sore throat, even if she could, Aohi doubts her current health would even be able to keep up with anything.

“Aohi, let’s go.” Her manager could be heard unbuckling her seatbelt, Aohi following. Aohi grabbed her phone and opened her car door, squinting at the bright sun.

Her instant response to the sudden rays was to put up her hoodie, entering the studio.

“Batsy!” Sunoo chirps, reaching for the girl before any of the other guys could call for her, and with her call, Aohi gravitates towards Sunoo, his arms taking her in like a cuddly bear.

“I missed you..” Aohi mumbled into his clothes, and Sunoo just hums and kisses her forehead, “gonna keep with the PDA or are we actually recording?” Xiulin amusingly spoke from behind the two.

And it would’ve been funny, if Aohi hadn’t hissed back at her. “Unnie, respectfully shut up.” Aohi replied with a hoarse voice, and Sunoo was taken aback by her sudden reply. Xiulin must’ve been as well, looking at Aohi with widened eyes.

Aohi’s furrowed brows seemed to soften after realizing the stunned faces across the room, and she sighs, pulling away from Sunoo.

“Sorry, unnie… i just… don’t feel well.” Aohi walks into the studio booth trying to rubbing her temple with a frown. Xiulin was still waiting out her aftershock as she just watched her dongsaeng walk away.

“What’s her problem?” Ri-ki pointed his thumb at Aohi inside the booth, looking towards the boys who looked equally confused. “I know manager-nim said she wasn’t feeling well… but she’s never snapped at me like that before.” Xiulin frowns at the booth door, rubbing at her neck in discomfort.

“It’s okay noona, I’m sure Aohi just didn’t feel up to the teasing, you know how she is..” Jungwon tries to ease Xiulin’s feelings, patting the older girl’s back to comfort her.

“We’ll talk to her, don’t worry.” Sunoo added, giving Xiulin a gentle and reassuring smile as the group trailed into the booth.

Aohi sat in one of the couches, trying keep to herself, quietly playing on her phone. The boys looked to each other, trying to figure out how to approach the girl without already irking her more than she already was.

“Heeseung-ssi, Xiulin-ssi, we can record your lines now.” One of the producers called the eldest of the hyung and maknae line to come in, and Xiulin glanced at Aohi, who glances at her and Heeseung.

Aohi quickly darts her gaze back onto her phone as she tries to focus on her games, trying to get the day to go by faster.

Xiulin sighs, looking towards Heeseung who was already waiting by the booth, he mouths to her as if to tell her, that the boys will handle it while they’re gone, and not to worry too much.

Jay decides to make a move towards Aohi, sitting beside her with caution. Aohi squirms at the sudden dip in the couch, but refuses to look up anyway.

“Batsy.. look at me, baby..” Jay encouraged, his hands gently reaching for her tense ones. “You want to tell me what’s wrong?.. we just want to help, Aohi, baby.” Aohi feels rather suffocated in Jay’s hold, and she knows he doesn’t mean to cage her in, but she feels like she can’t breathe.

Aohi shakes her head, trying to pull away from his hold, and Jay’s eyebrow twitches, his first indication that something was worse than just annoyance or tiredness. She mumbled something that Jay couldn’t decipher, he leans even closer.

Jay knew that even if Aohi was annoyed, she’d never turn down any of his hugs, even going as far to tell him that he’s the best at cuddling besides Ri-ki.

“Look at me, Batsy.” Jay reaches for her face, his gentle fingers barely touching her cheeks when Aohi slaps them away. “I told you to leave me alone!” Aohi’s voice croaks loudly, and Jake stands up from his spot in the room.

Her hand reaches to push Jay away, who seemed hurt at the way Aohi raises her voice at him. Despite being scolded by Aohi before, it never sounded worse like it did at this moment.

Aohi’s hand is stopped by Jake’s hand around her wrist, and her attention’s turned from Jay to Jake, trying to pull her wrist away from him.

“Let go!”

“Aohi, that’s enough! We’re just trying to help you!” Jake holds her tighter, and Aohi squeezes her eyes tight, letting out a sob. “I don’t want your help!” Aohi stands up from her spot, shoving Jake away.

Jake toppled over a few instruments, hissing at the impact. “Hyung!” Jungwon and Sunghoon quickly stood up, rushing to Jake’s side. Aohi’s breath hitches, and she sniffles, glancing around, Sunoo and Ri-ki looking at her with disbelief.

Aohi could feel her heart beating with intensity as she only looks for her only escape, running out of the room to the front door.

She has no idea where to run, but her legs certainly aren’t stopping, Aohi doesn’t register which way she goes, turning all sorts of corners, and the sun blinding her.

Soon enough, her body stops running, and Aohi has no clue where she is, she sits on a random bench, the area seemed deserted, some patches of weed growing through the brick path she ran down on.

Aohi brings her legs up on the bench, and she remembers that she’s left her phone at the studio with everyone else, and the air doesn’t do much to calm her.

She digs her face into her knees, and she could feel the familiar sting of tears in her eyes and she squeals into her knees, as if angry that she’s crying.

Aohi has no idea why she’s been so upset lately, maybe she needed to be alone for a while, or maybe Aohi felt like the world hasn’t been so nice to her lately. She’s tired, so tired.

Aohi just wanted to rest for a little while, and she can’t do that when her company wants her to go to these recordings despite putting her on vocal rest.

Aohi can’t afford to go home right now either, for one, she has no clue where she is and Aohi knows that she needs a ride to even get back to the apartments.

She only whimpers, and lets herself cry into her arms, pitiful sobs leaving like a lullaby from her lips. Aohi’s back shakes as her sobs continue, and she realizes that she can’t even stop herself or quiet herself.

And in an ironic way, the world sends a somewhat comforting breeze to her side, despite being certainly mean to her the couple of days, Aohi takes the breeze with gusto, sniffling as she’s blanketed with the wind.

Aohi cries her pretty little heart out in a deserted part of this random park, and she cries and cries until her eyes tire out, Aohi can feel the creeping tiredness loom over her as her eyes don’t fight the urge to close, to get sleep.

She just lets it happen as her eyes blanket her vision with darkness, and she sniffles once more, the need to sleep heavy and she doesn’t fight.

The sun’s starting to come down, and Aohi can barely register the muffled call of her name. Aohi could feel the approaching headache from dehydration, obviously from crying her eyes out the previous hours, but she looks up anyway.

“Aohi.. wake up, damn it..” Ri-ki curses, and he sits beside her balled figure on the bench, he runs his hands through his hair, sighing out of worry and concern.

“nini…” Aohi mumbled out, and her voice is still coarse, maybe even worse than it was the last time Ri-ki heard it. Ri-ki stops himself from softening at the nickname she calls him, one that she got from other fan accounts on Twitter, thinking it was adorable.

“Do you know how fucking worried we were?…” Ri-ki breathlessly spoke, and he gently placed a hand on her cheek, his eyebrows furrowed. Aohi whimpered, digging her cheek into his palm anyway.

“I’m sorry, nini…” Ri-ki curses under his breath, and he takes off his jacket, placing it over Aohi’s body, he felt the alarming heat of her body on his palm, he stands up from the bench and takes his arms under Aohi’s knees and supporting her back.

He lifts her up with a huff, carrying Aohi bridal style. “Don’t think just because you’re sick means you’re off the hook for running like that.” Ri-ki walks down the familiar path, the sun was going down and soon enough, he won’t be able to see the path out of the deserted park.

“You worried the fuck out of everyone… Jay and Jake were out in the cold for hours, you left your phone so we couldn’t even…” Ri-ki blinked his tears away, the worry and the thought that something could’ve happened to Aohi overwhelming him.

“We couldn’t track you down, and who knows where the hell you could’ve gone?…” Aohi, despite being too tired out of her mind and sleepy, felt guilty anyways, she felt stupid for running then, and she still felt stupid now.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I couldn’t find you… hell, what would we tell the engenes? you hate disappointing them..” Ri-ki grits his teeth, it takes a little while for them to regroup with the others, and Ri-ki had gone silent from walking for a bit and he finally walks out to a familiar path, seeing the boys and Xiulin waiting anxiously by the van.

“You found her!" Heeseung sighed in relief, jogging up to the two, Aohi seemed to knock out on the walk, and Heeseung reaches to check on her.

"She's burning.." Heeseung curses, and he walks to the van and opens the door, "Let's get her home before she gets worse." Sunoo agrees, nodding as he climbs into the vehicle, helping Ri-ki climb in with Aohi in his hold.

"Careful.. she's going to bump her head.." Sunoo whispers, placing his hands on her head, looking at Aohi with worry in his eyes.

The boys and Xiulin are silently driven home by their staff, and they all apologize to the staff member for keeping them waiting as Ri-ki, bowed, before walking up to the apartment.

"Ri-ki-yah.. I can carry her.." Sunghoon offered from beside him, and he shakes his head, just continuing to walk up to their dormitory, which Jungwon opens for the youngest.

"Wait! You should bring her to our dorm, I can't take care of her from your dorms.." Xiulin voiced, and the boys turn to her, "Noona, don't worry about it, I'm sure you're tired, me and the hyungs will take care of her." Ri-ki shoots their eldest girl a reassuring look, and Xiulin can't help but sigh.

"But-" Jay shakes his head, asking Xiulin not to fight them on it, "You can trust us, Xiu, don't worry." Xiulin softly frowns, but she couldn't go up against seven boys, even if she wanted to.

"Okay, just.. make sure she gets some rest..." Xiulin reaches over and places a small kiss on Aohi's burning forehead, a quiet goodbye as she recovers in the boys' dorms.

The boys and Xiulin part from the stairs, and Aohi's brought into the boys' dorms, they all have separate rooms now, the countless complaints from singer to manager had worked, and given them some sort of privacy.

Ri-ki makes a quick move to place her onto his bed, tucking her with record-breaking speed, trying to keep her warm, feeling Aohi shiver all throughout the car ride.

Despite his worry, he still feels sour about earlier, knowing Aohi wasn't feeling well, and her mood was not best, did not excuse the fact that she ran off, and for hours they couldn't find her.

"I'll go grab a rag for her fever.." Sunoo whispers from beside Ri-ki, patting the youngest's back in comfort before leaving the room. The rest of the boys seemed to follow after Sunoo, quiet excuses pouring from all of their lips.

"We'll get dinner started, make her some food.." Jay and Jungwon walked out together, and Sunghoon runs his hand through his face, "We'll give you some space.." Heeseung pulls Sunghoon with him, who seems hesitant to leave Aohi's side.

"How could you be so reckless, batsy?" Ri-ki whispered, his tone scolding. For once, he was babying Aohi without any complaint. Well, not that she could anyway. "I thought something had happened to you.. and I wouldn't of been there..."

Ri-ki sat by her side for a while, he repositioned to the ground, gently rubbing his thumb against Aohi's palm. A calming gesture for both of them. He quietly watches Aohi's sleeping figure, and despite the underlying cringe from him, feeling creepy for watching her, he couldn't help but worry, truly.

"...I would've lost it.. batsy, I need you," Ri-ki whispers, and it seems like every time they were by themselves, he starts to speak in Japanese, like he's at his most vulnerable with her. "I need you like water, my love.." He continues his sentence, hoping she'll awake for a little bit.

Like a miracle, Aohi twitches from her sleep, and she lets out a quiet groan, her eyes fluttering from her nap, and she's faced with the familiar ceiling of Ri-ki's room. She calls for him with a broken voice.

"Nini..." And Ri-ki makes a move, sitting up on his knees to coo at her silently, "I'm here, lovely.." He feels Aohi's hand squeeze his, and he feels himself relax. Ri-ki is relieved, comforted by Aohi's presence.

"Why.. would you go look for me..?" Aohi croaks from her spot, looking at Ri-ki with a hurt expression, and he's almost confused on why she would ask such a question. "Why wouldn't we?.." Ri-ki tilts his head, his thumb makes comforting swipes at the back of Aohi's hand.

"You could've gotten sick.. stupid.." Aohi tries to flick up at Ri-ki's forehead, and he shakes his head, making her drop her hand. "I don't care about getting sick, I care about finding you." He replies, and Aohi sighs, turning her head from Ri-ki to the wall.

"I hate when you say stuff like that.." Aohi whispers, and Ri-ki is confused, sure, his words would fluster the girl, but her? Hating such words from him when she was as affectionate as him?

"Why? You and I both know it's true," Ri-ki responds, and Aohi makes a move to almost throw a slight action of defiance. "And that's what I hate about it, I hate that you're willing to break your back as long as I'm with you.."

"And it's the same for the other boys, and I love that you love me so much," Ri-ki listens, despite his dislike for where the conversation was heading, "and I love you all the same, if not more, but I hate that you'd disregard your own well-being for me.. I wish I wasn't that important to you.. any of you."

"How could you say that?" Ri-ki asks, standing up from his spot and sitting on the bed, and Aohi sits up from her spot, "Ri-ki, how could I not? Hell, you gave me your jacket even when you knew it was cold.."

"You're always bending over backwards for me, and I wish you'd be a little more concerned with yourself." Aohi looks towards him and Ri-ki furrows his eyebrows. "You're the same way."

Aohi stays silent, "It's the way I am.." Aohi fiddles with her fingers, looking down at her lap. "And so what? You think we should just take and take, and you get nothing in return for yourself?" Ri-ki assumes, and Aohi looks to argue, to deny, but words don't come out of her mouth.

Ri-ki waits for a reply from Aohi and when she doesn't seem to speak, he continues. "What's the point of us dating you if we'll just be selfish while you break like this?" Aohi still doesn't reply, and she knows there's nothing she could say to fix her words, and what she meant.

"Are we even your boyfriends that way?" Aohi finally moves from her spot, "Of course you are! I just don't want you to be so consumed with being with me that you just.." Aohi brings her hands to her face, "It feels like you have to take care of me all of the time, and I'm just.."

"I don't want any of you to help me because it's not your job, I should be able to do this myself!" Aohi sobbed, and Ri-ki feels angrier than before.

“if you didn’t want any of us to help you when you’re crumbling like this then why are you still dating us?!” Ri-ki yells, and it’s the first time in a while that Aohi had heard him so loud.

Aohi blinks at him and for once she’s surprised of the way Ri-ki stared at her with angry tears. Ri-ki was angry at her.

“Are you angry at me?…” She whispers, and Aohi doesn’t miss the way her voice quivers as she asks this to Ri-ki who turns away from her.

“You don’t know how much it hurts when we see you like this… when I see you like this.” Ri-ki sobbed, his fists grab at his hair, and Aohi makes a move to stop him, knowing it’ll hurt.

“I feel like the worst fucking boyfriend when I see you fall apart like dust and I can’t help you.”

Aohi doesn’t say a word more, unable to reply. Her tears cascaded down her cheeks and she pulls Ri-ki into her arms. “I’m sorry.” She repeats like a mantra.

And it seems like Ri-ki breaks alongside Aohi, and she starts to think that maybe the world was a little too cruel on both of them, or maybe she was being too cruel on him, on all of them.

how could she fix this now?

"I'm sorry nini... I didn't mean to make you feel like that.. I just... feel awful and I've been too cruel.." Aohi holds Ri-ki tightly, and she could feel her hoodie starts to dampen with the boy's tears.

"I'm so sorry... I feel like the worst girlfriend to you... you don't even know nini.." Aohi hugs Ri-ki like she could never let go, and she knows she would never.

"Then help me know, I want to, let me understand, let me help.." Ri-ki begged from her, and Aohi feels worse than she already did.

Aohi places a gentle kiss on his forehead, continuing her apologies. Ri-ki seems to cry for forever he felt like, he just couldn't stop, and his fingers had gone red from how tightly he held Aohi in his arms.

"You don't deserve such a cruel girl like me.." She whispers, lifting Ri-ki's face, wiping at the streaks on his cheeks, and with a quiet voice, Ri-ki speaks, "I want you anyway, I'll always want to be with you, even if you don't."

"How did I score someone like you, hm, nini?" Aohi laughed through her own tears. "I don't know, but you're never getting rid of me." Ri-ki replies, before taking Aohi's cheeks in his hands and laying a gentle kiss on her lips.

The two's lips intertwined like perfect puzzle pieces, Aohi's hand reaching to cup Ri-ki's in a warmth he'll never deny. Aohi thinks that she could never get used to how warm Ri-ki's lips were, always comforting her in ways she could never do herself.

The two pull away, and Aohi almost chases after Ri-ki, already missing him so close to her.

"...I love you, so much." Aohi spoke after a while, using her hoodie sleeve to wipe at her nose, and Ri-ki laughs, grabbing a tissue from his bedside, "Don't wipe it on your hoodie, batsy.."

"I really do love you though, you know that right?" Ri-ki smiles, and nods, wiping at Aohi's tears. "aigoo... you big baby.." Ri-ki kisses at her nose, and Aohi squeals at the ticklish feeling.

"You cried too! I'm not the only big baby!" Aohi retorts, gently slapping Ri-ki's shoulder, the two continued to giggle for a little before they quiet down, the only evidence of their silly behaviour being their smiles.

"Don't ever be scared to crumble, we'll be here to pick you back up... just like you are for us.." Ri-ki hugs her tightly one more time, and Aohi's never felt as loved as she was with the boys, and it makes her realize how much she could never actually live without these boys.

"So.. how does soup sound?"

"Sounds lovely, nini."

"Good, you're going to have to apologize to Jay-hyung and Jake-hyung, they've been sulking since this afternoon." - "Oh... about that.."

#˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑰𝑺 𝑨𝑶𝑯𝑰!#enhypen #enhypen 8th member #enhypen added member #enhypen addition #enhypen au #kpop added member #kpop oc #kpop addition #enhypen female member #enhypen fem oc #enhypen ot7 #enhypen x oc #enhypen x fem oc

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butmakeitgayblog · 5 hours

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Ahhhhh Lexa is so cuddly in that oneshot! 😍😍

She had to be

Listen to me

She had to be

Because this little ray of sunshine?

Deserved to be allowed to be cuddly

Because the thing is, she always wanted to be. She did. Even when she didn't know how to ask for it. Even when all she knew how to do was nudge the door open for Clarke and wait silently to see what she'd do

Even when she didn't feel like she deserved to want it.

Lexa spent so much time worrying about Clarke's comfort and boundaries. So much time carrying the weight of her decisions like a scarlett letter on her chest. She lived with the guilt - not for the decisions themselves - but for how those decisions hurt Clarke, and how it all ultimately lost her the girl she had fallen so hard for, so fast.

But still, there were so many instances where she wanted nothing more than to be allowed to be soft. And you could see it.

So many times when she put herself out there just to feel like a fool in the end.

You could see it in these tiny glimpses of moments, her hesitation. Her disappointment. Her wanting so badly to reach out. But not letting herself.

Always waiting to be pushed away. Always accepting when she was. Always swallowing the pain of her own heartache while aching to be let in...

Which is why the second Clarke said yes? Lexa absolutely let the floodgates open.

While we saw after their first time she had given Clarke space again, had rolled away to recover from being fucked into a nap the intensity of finally getting to have that intimacy with Clarke, I don't think it was because it was what she wanted to do. I think it was pure instinct. Fear. A learned habit to always give Clarke space, and always another chance to push her away should Clarke want to. Seeing how Lexa operated when it came to Clarke, I don't think she took them having sex for granted in the aspect of "oh now all is forgiven." I think even after having Clarke make love to her, a piece of Lexa would've been careful not to push for too much too soon. Been too clingy. Assume Clarke woukd want to cuddle with her, to hold her. To even want Lexa to touch her the same way so intimately.

But.

When Clarke gave the ok? When Clarke made it clear that she was open to that?

Oh she smiled.

And she was happy

She held her hand during sex for godssake, you can't get more mushy than that

And even in her final moments, what made her break? What was the only thing that really truly cut through the pain and the strength of Heda, and gave Lexa a moment of solace?

Clarke's touch.

Clarke's comfort.

Being able to soak in another moment of just being close to her. Loved by her.

Lexa was always a touchy a person. She craved that physical intimacy with Clarke from day one. I mean we're talking about a woman who decided to casually ~take a nap~ on her canopy bed with the drapes open while an almost complete stranger waltz around her tent. She was always sending out the signals out that not only did she want more emotionally from Clarke, but that she wanted more physically. And I don't mean sex (ok well not just sex at least), she wanted that soft comfort of just being near her too.

So yeah. 100% I believe if given a chance to have more moments together after they'd both finally let each other back in, every time Clarke even halfway made it seem like she was open to it, I think Lexa would've become more and more comfortable letting go of her fears and been as affectionate as she'd always wanted. I think she would've become more and more snuggly, more tactile in her expressions of love and pride, to the point that when they were alone I don't think Clarke would've quite known what to do with herself and her little commander-noodle-arms shaped shadow

They still would've argued all the time tho

#anon #in secret au #clexa

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quotidian-oblivion · 2 days

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Not-Yet-Written Fic Game

Tagged by @chemical-processes!! Thank you so much for tagging meeee. Especially in writer games, i love them <3

Post about some of the fics you plan on writing

I'm gonna do both batfam and Merlin for this one. You can put down any number of wips. I have so many, but I think I'll choose 10 😅 Feel free to ask about any of them!!! I'd love that ^^

No pressure tags: @sardonic-sprite @igotthisaccountunderduress @pericreatesstuff @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego @foineswoine-writing

@uncertainwallflower @cygnusdoesthings @blightwritesfic @wakkoroni

A Dance Across the Stream [BBC Merlin]

A slave!Arthur fic where I really pump up the angst. Arthur has been a slave for so long that people are starting to lose hope that he's even alive. His slavers decide to auction him since his past status, health and general looks will get them a pretty penny. He's collared by magic that hurts him if he doesn't listen to his masters' orders. As he stares down blankly at the faces and hands rising eagerly to buy a slaved prince, he hears a voice-

"Twelve hundred and thirty gold pieces!"

For the first time in months, Arthur dares to raise his head. Because he knows that voice. Has heard it incessantly rabbiting on, talking his ear off several times a day before his capture.

But it can't be him. It can't be Merlin. Because the bid for him was only open to sorcerers. And Merlin can't be a sorcerer.

2. Let Me Die, Let Me Drown, Lay My Bones In the Ground [BBC Merlin]

(I'm cheating a little bit cuz this is actually written but) My first fic where I really unleash my angst weapons. I wanted to test my limits. And I did.

The storm that had passed through Albion didn't only bring devestation, it brought a party belonging to the king, queen and princess of a distant land on the edge of Albion's maps. As per propriety and courtesy, Camelot was required to hold a feast and provide accommodation for them. The feast started off smoothly, the royals of Camelot getting along quite well with the royals from Harden.

But a single questioned changed everything. Including the destiny of Arthur and Merlin.

"What are your stances on magic?" Uther asked.

3. Doesn't have a name yet, but the wip doc is named 'My Limits Tested Through Merlin' [BBC Merlin]

While writing LMDLMD (the above fic), I discovered that the angst I put in there was not actually my full limit. I could push further. I could write worse. So I started this multichap wip. And it's going splendidly. Honestly, this fic is such a good jar to add my inner demons to. And I decided to work in some foreshadowing, juxtaposition, symbolism and all that lovely fun literary devices stuff because I found that I actually enjoy that process. So this might just be my best mutlichap fic yet!

Summary: That the kingdom they traveled to was peaceful was a lie. That the king was a good and fair man was also a lie. That Merlin, Arthur, and the Knights of the Round Table would be safe was the biggest lie of all.

As Merlin scrubs the floor beneath the king's feet, despite the pains and bruises on his body, he wonders if escape will also be a lie.

4. Empire For Two [BBC Merlin]

Part two of a two-part series. I've finished writing the outline and currently it's standing at 50 chapters, but as it gets written it might increase. Since it's MASSIVE and too much for me to take on alone, my lovely fwens Joan (@tireddruid) and Tristi are helping me with it! Joan's alpha and beta-ing while Tristi's gonna be a co-writer. For once, I'm not gonna start posting after it's written, but post as we write each chapter.

A Golden Age AU where I fix the fucking show.

5. Tim gets de-ages to a toddler fic [DC]

I've finished the outline for this too and it's currently standing at 21 chapters and I've already written 2. @mispeltnostalgia is beta-ing it ^^ And it's angsty. And fluffy! Majority of it is fluffy! But the angst at the end and major character death tag kind of overshadows the 19 chapters of fluff 😅 I also do a character study of Jason here. It's very enlightening.

Inspired by the very first fanfic I ever read (by choice) and Tim gets de-aged to a toddler because of a mistake Jason made. Jason's bonds with the family is already fragile and this mistake might just drive a further wedge between him and them. So he keeps the mistake a secret.

But the fact Tim is a toddler isn't. The batfam try their hardest to look after Tim while trying to find a way to age him back. Tim's an adorable kid but... there are warning signs. Too many warning signs. It makes everyone question just how well they had known Tim and his personal life.

For some reason, the toddler seems attached to Jason. And surprisingly, Jason seems to go actually well when dealing with him.

But after an explosive fight between Jason and the rest of the family, when Alfred opens the doors to the bedrooms, he finds both the toddler and the crime lord gone.

6. I Quit (not the actual fic name, just a wip name) [DC]

It started with a crack-genre scene where Tim accidentally resigns being Robin over the phone.

It quickly escalated to Tim running from the Bats, trying to cure Jason of his Pit Madness, and raising a 10-year-old assassin Damian when Talia mistakenly dumped the kid on him. Fully outlined, 19 chapters, I'm probably gonna start writing this soon.

7. Found Him [DC]

Not a multichap fic but a series with oneshots and twoshots and threeshots! Why? Because I was lazy and didn't bother with filling chapters. Why? Cuz I wanted to get to the action bits. Why?

Because this, my friends, is an evil!Tim Drake AU >:)

Tim wakes up in Titans Tower before Bruce and Dick can show up. He wakes up and all he sees is blood.

His blood.

He is in excruciating pain, but for some cruel reason, he can still think and feel clearly. His mind is not a haze, he has all his memories and he is very well aware of the carnage that has been made out of his body. Very well aware of the person who created the carnage out of his body.

In a Red Robin #4-esque style, Tim crawls out and sloppily secures the wounds that bleed the most, then grabs a bike and collapses in the middle of the road. The emergency services think he's a normal civilian boy since Tim had torn his Robin uniform and had ridden out in the blacks underneath. They manage to save his life but the damage was done.

Tim had snapped. He thought he was alone. And nothing was going to convince him otherwise.

8. All 'Board Mind Games [DC]

Inspired by Zugzwang written by sardonic-sprite. Ra's keeps kidnapping Tim and forcing him to play different board games from different cultures (cuz I like representation) and each member of the batfam is kidnapped along with him and with every time Tim loses, he gets to choose between forms of torture or being Ra's heir. Ra's gets what he wants either way because he wants Tim as his heir, but he also wants to see Tim suffer because he blew up his League's operations.

This fic I am so so so incredibly excited for because I am adding brain factors in it. Here is a plan for one of my chapters:

Damian — Barjees — Fear gas — "Be the person you needed when you were younger" (or Ideasthesia)

9. Talons (not the actual title) [DC]

What if Bruce didn't arrive in time to adopt his sons? What if the Talons did?

And what if, years later, Batman comes across four child assassins in Gotham whose eyes are screaming help?

10. Danny meets Tim (not the actual title, obvi) [DC x Danny Phantom]

Not very outlined, but the idea has been written down. During Tim's Red Robin arc where he's traversing the whole globe to find Bruce, one of the places he stops at is Amity Park. He heard about how ghosts are a regular here so maybe he can find something? Proof whether or not Bruce is alive?

Who he finds instead changes the whole trajectory of Tim's life.

And those are some of my wips! I am 100% planning on writing and posting all of them. They've all been outlined (except the last one) and are very much ready to be written or posted. I keep getting ideas after ideas for fics though so don't know when I'll be writing them 😂 Rest assured, I'm too excited to delay some of these wips.

#quotidian writes #quotidian fics #writer tag game #not yet written fic tag game #tag game #writers tag game #wip tag game #wip game #wips #fanfiction #fanfic wips #dc #bbc merlin #danny phantom

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montammil · 3 days

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Forever Be Mine, part 4

Masterlist here!

CW: Yandere/creepy whumper, dubcon kissing(?), branding, manipulative behavior, tiiiiny bit nsfw

...

Sawyer leaned his head against Rowan's chest, giving in completely, too weak to move much at all anymore. Rowan carried him out of the basement and up the stairs to their bathroom. He set Sawyer down on the toilet seat and started filling up the tub with warm water. Once it was full enough, he picked him back up and placed him in the tub gently.

The water stung horribly against the wound on his side, making Sawyer's breath hitch in his throat. Rowan shushed him and grabbed a washcloth from the sink, wetting it and rubbing it over his body to clean him off.

"Don't worry, I'll bandage up your wound when we're done here," he assured him. "It'll heal up just fine, okay?"

Sawyer didn't respond, too exhausted to speak at the moment.

After wiping him down, Rowan reached into the water and began to soap up his skin and hair. He hummed softly while he worked, occasionally pausing to kiss his face or neck.

Sawyer didn't fight him anymore, just letting him do whatever he wanted and focusing on trying not to pass out, even if the thought was a little tempting.

When Rowan finished cleaning him off, he lifted him out of the tub and dried him with a fluffy towel. He laid Sawyer on his uninjured side on the bed and pressed a kiss over the burn mark on his skin.

"There we go," Rowan cooed as he rubbed aloe vera gel onto the wound. "Feels better now, doesn't it?"

Sawyer couldn't even respond, whimpering quietly when Rowan's fingers grazed over the tender area.

Rowan patted his back and moved away from him momentarily, only to return with gauze and medical tape. He applied the bandages to cover up the burn wound and held them down with a piece of tape on each end. After tying them securely in place, Rowan moved back towards Sawyer's face. He still smelled like blood, much to Sawyer's disgust. He traced along his jawline with one finger.

"Does it still hurt?" Rowan asked, stroking his cheek with a thumb. Sawyer nodded, unable to speak properly in his state. "I know," he sighed. "I hated having to punish you like that, but you gave me no choice."

He reached forward and pulled Sawyer closer to him, cradling him against his chest. Sawyer couldn't bring himself to fight back anymore. He just lay there limp and defeated, wishing he was anywhere but here.

He felt so humiliated by the situation he found himself in, by how much power Rowan held over him now. He couldn't even remember how many times Rowan had said "I love you" over the past few days, but it made him want to cry every time he heard it.

Tears rushed to his eyes as much as he so desperately tried to keep them down. Sawyer didn't want Rowan to see him like this, didn't want to give him the satisfaction of breaking him so easily. But at this point, he couldn't hold them back anymore.

"Hey," Rowan whispered soothingly. "Hey, no no no no..." He pulled the smaller man into his lap and held him close while he cried into his shoulder. "Don't cry, honey." He stroked his hair tenderly and rubbed his back in slow circles. "Everything's okay now."

Sawyer shook his head. Nothing was okay anymore, nothing would ever be okay again. He could still feel the skewer digging into his flesh, could still hear the gunshots as Rowan killed him in cold blood. Could still feel the knife tearing through his shirt. It hurt so fucking bad and all he wanted was to go home. He was so dissociated he didn't even realize he was still completely naked until Rowan slid a pair of underwear onto him.

Rowan guided him down onto his side and tucked them both into bed, spooning Sawyer from behind and resting his chin on top of his head.

"It broke my heart having to do that to you," he mumbled. "I hate hurting you. But I had to do it to show you I am serious about this."

"Wasn't killing that guy enough?" Sawyer croaked.

He tightened his grip, causing a flash of pain to course through Sawyer's injured side. "If I let him live, he would've ruined everything," Rowan choked out. "I can't lose you, Sawyer." He pressed a kiss into his hair. "I can't live without you."

Sawyer didn't reply this time. He didn't know what he could even say to that without risking further punishment or worse. So instead he stayed quiet, letting Rowan hold him close and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he drifted off to sleep.

...

When Sawyer woke up the next morning, Rowan was already awake beside him. He had propped himself up on an elbow and was staring down at him.

Sawyer glanced around the room and noticed a plate of food on the nightstand next to them, along with some pills and a glass of water. He had no idea how long it had been since he last ate or drank anything, but at this point, he didn't care either way.

"Here," Rowan said quietly, grabbing the pills off the table and handing them to him. "Take these."

The shorter man stared at the two pills in his palm. "What are they?"

Rowan smiled at him sweetly, "Just antibiotics."

Sawyer eyed him suspiciously. He didn't trust him, but with the pain in his side and the memories that would now haunt him for the rest of his life, he was in no place to argue. He reluctantly swallowed the pills and chased them down with a sip of water.

Rowan pecked his cheek before getting out of bed and stretching out his arms above his head. He returned to Sawyer with a piece of toast slathered with strawberry jam along with hash browns. Sawyer took the plate and set it on his lap. He ate slowly and tried to avoid eye contact with Rowan while doing so, who seemed to be watching his every move as always.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Sawyer glanced up at him through narrowed eyes.

"I'm just not hungry right now." He gave him a smile, "I know it's silly, but I like watching you eat. I like watching you do anything." Sawyer shuddered internally and averted his gaze downwards, focusing on his food instead of Rowan's eyes boring into him.

Sawyer wished he had any fight in him, but he just didn't. Hell, he didn't even have any compliance in him, either. He was always so good at putting on a charming smile and making people adore him with ease.

Now though? He couldn't muster up enough energy to fake something as simple as a smile. Rowan would surely notice if he tried anything at all though. And given how his luck had been going lately, he wasn't about to risk being tortured again anytime soon.

The idea of being tortured again made Sawyer's stomach lurch, so he put the plate back on the nightstand, unable to stomach more food.

Rowan frowned but said nothing about it. Instead, he draped an arm over him and leaned his head against his. Sawyer expected him to be happy about his compliance, but all he felt from Rowan was disappointment.

"What are you thinking about?" Rowan ran his fingers through his hair.

Sawyer flinched away from the touch automatically. "Nothing," he mumbled.

Rowan sighed heavily, "You can't lie to me."

Well apparently, he very well could. Sawyer almost chuckled at that irony. "I'm sorry," he blurted out before Rowan could do anything rash. "I'm just tired." He avoided his gaze but could feel it burning into him regardless.

He turned Sawyer's face towards him with a finger on his jaw and studied his expression for a few moments. Sawyer wasn't sure what he saw there, but Rowan finally let go of him and stood off the bed with a huff. "Fine then," he grunted as he stormed out of the bedroom.

Sawyer rolled his eyes at the petty behavior he was exhibiting. He was still recovering from being tortured only a few hours prior, and Rowan was being an immature child about him not indulging him in conversation.

He wouldn't have believed any of this was happening a week ago if someone told him this would be his future. Things had gone from him being a confident single man with a stable career to being the victim of a deranged stalker in the blink of an eye.

There were so many things that Sawyer wished he could've done differently. Maybe if he had just paid more attention to his surroundings, he wouldn't be in this mess right now.

The guilt weighed in his stomach like a ton of bricks.

An hour or so passed by, and Sawyer was still bored out of his mind. He hadn't heard a sound from Rowan since he stormed off earlier and wondered where he had gone to sulk away his childishness.

Out of curiosity, he stood to his feet and grabbed a shirt that he assumed was laid out for him, draping down to his knees. He ventured out of the room, careful not to make a sound in case Rowan was still sulking somewhere nearby.

Since the door wasn't unlocked, it was easy to assume that Rowan was still in the house somewhere. The question now was, where?

He stepped down the stairs, holding onto the railing tightly as he descended. Sawyer paused when he heard music coming from the kitchen. He tip-toed forward and peeked inside to see Rowan leaning against the counter while reading a newspaper. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail again and his reading glasses were on.

"Hello," Rowan greeted him without looking up.

Sawyer froze. "Hi," he mumbled back, moving into the room. He looked at the stove where a teapot was whistling loudly. Rowan turned off the burner and poured two cups of tea before sliding one to Sawyer. "Thank you," he murmured and took a sip.

It was earl grey again, and he preferred it over the other options Rowan had provided him with, though it brought him no pleasure knowing he had drugged him with the same thing in the past.

Rowan stared at him expectantly and motioned towards an empty chair. Sawyer hesitated for a moment before sitting down across from him at the table. He watched as Rowan returned to reading his newspaper, flipping through each page every minute or so.

It was hard not to stare at Rowan. He normally was so talkative and touchy with Sawyer, but now he just acted like he wasn't there.

Not that Sawyer liked his bubbly attitude. It was the most annoying thing he ever had to face.

But it was unnerving seeing him acting so cold. It made Sawyer feel small and insignificant. Like he wasn't worth Rowan's time at all. And if his own obsessed kidnapper thought that, then what did the outside world think? Did anyone even care that he was gone?

"Are you mad at me?" Sawyer asked softly.

Rowan only responded with an unamused hum.

Sawyer shrunk in on himself and continued drinking his tea silently. He had no idea what kind of mood Rowan was in right now and didn't want to upset him even more. He'd just need to find a different way out, even if it meant playing the long game. He could do that if it meant getting out alive in one piece.

"I'm not mad at you," Rowan spoke up finally. "I'm just... disappointed." He closed his newspaper and folded it neatly, placing his reading glasses on top of it. "I thought after everything we've been through together, you'd appreciate all I've done for you. I've done nothing but love you with everything I have, but you just..." His voice cracked, "You just take me for granted."

Was this bastard seriously about to cry? The same bastard who kidnapped him?

"I don't mean to," Sawyer rasped. "I'm sorry." He clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to say more than what he knew Rowan wanted to hear from him.

Rowan wasn't stupid enough to fall for the fake apologies a second time, though. "Really?" He glared at him. "You're sorry?" Sawyer remained silent. "Then prove it to me. Show me you're sorry. I'm done taking your word for it."

Sawyer hesitated. "What do you want me to do?"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Kiss me." Right before Sawyer could say 'hell no!' Rowan added, "If you do, I'll take you outside for fresh air today." Sawyer only scoffed. "...and I won't tie you up when we're sleeping."

Fresh air did sound nice. And Rowan wouldn't tie him up at night? That was an even bigger incentive than getting fresh air.

The thought of finally being free from the ropes around his limbs did sound nice too, even if he didn't trust that Rowan would keep his promise. But he wasn't in a position to be picky, and maybe gaining his approval a second time would benefit him more.

Sawyer took a deep breath before standing up and walking around the table to stand in front of Rowan. The taller man looked down at him expectantly, waiting for him to make a move.

He stood on his toes and pressed his lips against Rowan's cheek before pulling away.

Rowan tsked at him. "You call that a kiss?" Sawyer grumbled under his breath. "Kiss me properly."

He gulped down the knot in his throat and leaned forward, kissing him on the mouth this time. Rowan placed a hand on his waist, keeping him in place while his lips moved against his. Sawyer shuddered at the feeling of Rowan's tongue pressing into his mouth, making it difficult not to gag and pull away. But he forced himself to remain still and reciprocate until Rowan was satisfied enough.

After a few seconds, Rowan pulled away and smiled at him with half-lidded eyes. "That's more like it." He cupped Sawyer's cheek in his palm, rubbing his thumb across it gently. "See? You can be good."

Sawyer averted his gaze. "So are you going to let me out?"

"Of course, I'm a man of my word." He took Sawyer's hand in his own and stood up. "Let's get dressed."

Rowan led him upstairs to the bedroom and dug into the wardrobe for clothes. He pulled out a coat, turtleneck, and slacks, tossing them onto the bed for Sawyer to wear.

He changed without complaint, even if wearing Rowan's clothes made his skin crawl. Rowan smiled when he saw how Sawyer looked in his clothes and didn't say much, just dressing himself in a similar fashion.

He took Sawyer's hand and walked him downstairs, guiding him to the front door and unlocking it. Sawyer inhaled deeply, smelling the fresh air and feeling the breeze brush against his face.

It was freezing out, and the sun was hidden behind gray clouds above, threatening rain any minute.

Rowan grabbed an umbrella on his way out and Sawyer followed close behind as he locked up the cabin and led them down the pathway. The lake was quiet and empty save for a couple of birds flying overhead. Even though Sawyer wasn't particularly outdoorsy, the view was pretty damn gorgeous. He wished he could've come here under better circumstances.

They walked down the path in silence until they reached a gazebo by the water, surrounded by trees and shrubbery. Rowan sat down on one of the benches and patted the empty space next to him.

Sawyer glanced around uneasily but obeyed, taking a seat beside him. He pulled his jacket closer to himself and rubbed his arms to warm himself up.

Rowan noticed this and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer to his body heat. He cringed and leaned away, but Rowan held firm onto him and rubbed his arm affectionately.

"Are you enjoying your fresh air?" Rowan asked, squeezing him tighter.

"Yeah," he responded.

"Good." Rowan leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "I knew you would." Sawyer sighed and let Rowan hold him close without struggling or attempting to move away this time. He leaned his head against Rowan's shoulder and stared out over the water. "It's nice out here, isn't it?" Sawyer grunted in agreement. "Maybe next time, I'll take you out on the boat. I think that'd be romantic, don't you?"

Sawyer stiffened in his arms at the thought of being out on the water with nowhere to run to. But Rowan didn't seem to notice his reaction as he continued babbling on about how much fun they'd have together in the future.

The sky was darkening overhead and a few drops of rain began to fall, causing Rowan to perk up.

He stood up from the bench and opened up his umbrella. Sawyer followed suit and stood beside him, shivering slightly in the cold air as Rowan held up the umbrella for both of them.

They walked back towards the house, stopping every once in a while for Rowan to point out a bird or interesting plant that caught his eye.

By the time they arrived back inside, Sawyer felt exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. He excused himself to use the bathroom, needing a moment away from Rowan's constant attention.

He locked the door behind him and turned on the tap water, splashing his face with cool liquid. Sawyer glanced into the mirror and winced at his reflection.

His eyes were red from exhaustion and his skin was pale. Dark circles were beginning to form beneath his eyes, which looked even more dull than usual. It was hard to recognize himself like this.

There was a knock at the door, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay?" Rowan's voice was laced with worry.

"Yeah," Sawyer lied and wiped off his face with a towel. "Sorry." He unlocked the door and opened it to find Rowan standing there with concerned eyes. "Do you have to follow me everywhere I go?" Sawyer grumbled under his breath as he tried pushing past him.

Rowan stopped him in his tracks by placing a hand on his shoulder and gripping it tightly. "Yes," he hissed at him through gritted teeth, "because I need to make sure you don't run off again." Sawyer remained silent and allowed him to lead him back downstairs into the living room. "Sit down," Rowan demanded, pointing at the couch.

Sawyer plopped himself down on the soft cushions and crossed his arms over his chest. He watched Rowan saunter to the kitchen and come back with more bandages in his hand.

He sat down beside him and reached over to remove the old bandages that were starting to fall off.

This entire time Sawyer had been avoiding looking at them on purpose, but he was curious.

Rowan pulled up Sawyer's shirt and unwrapped the gauze around his waist, revealing a dark red burn mark that stretched across his lower abdomen.

At first, it was hard to tell what it said, but after a moment Sawyer realized that it spelled out 'R + S' inside a heart. He choked up at the sight of it and covered his mouth with a hand.

"What do you think?" Rowan asked hopefully as he grabbed ointment. "It looks nice, doesn't it?"

He couldn't respond. The horror was too overwhelming.

"Oh don't look at me like that," he chuckled, rubbing the salve onto his wound, "it'll heal perfectly fine, I promise." Sawyer didn't believe that at all, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. "I know it might not look pretty right now, but trust me, once it's healed up, it'll look amazing. We'll see each other's initials whenever we make love."

"We're never having sex," Sawyer muttered in disgust.

"You say that now..." He pressed a kiss over it, then applied a fresh set of bandages around Sawyer's torso. "I know you like dancing, so I bought a gramophone! I couldn't find the exact one you have, but it's still very nice."

Rowan removed a shellac record from its sleeve and placed it onto the gramophone.

A slow tune began playing, and he offered a hand to Sawyer, who hesitantly accepted it and stood up. Rowan wrapped an arm around his waist while Sawyer draped one on his shoulder, letting Rowan lead the dance.

He would have thought this was romantic if not for the fact that this was all an obsession from a psychopathic kidnapper.

"Do you know this song?" Rowan asked quietly while swaying them in rhythm to the music.

Sadly, Rowan thought, because now it was ruined for him. "...Sweetheart, We Need Eachother... by Jack Payne," he mumbled. "1930."

"I'm impressed you know the date!"

"I love music."

"I know." Rowan's hand slipped lower, resting on Sawyer's hip. "I've never been the biggest fan of jazz or swing, but now that I think of you every time I hear it, it's my favorite genre." He chuckled and shrugged. "Though to be fair, I think about you 24/7. Every single second of every day." Sawyer couldn't help but shiver in discomfort at that sentiment. "Do you think about me too?"

It was impossible not to, considering it was impossible for Rowan to give him space for more than five minutes at a time. "A little bit," he replied half-heartedly.

Rowan beamed at him and dipped him backward. "Good," he purred, planting a kiss on his lips. "I want you to always think about me. About us. Nothing else matters." Sawyer glared. "Oh, do I still need to bargain with you to get a kiss?"

"I guess that depends on what else you can bargain." He didn't mean for it to come across as playful banter, but from the smirk on Rowan's face, he failed at that.

"Hmm... what would you like?"

Freedom was out of the question, even if Sawyer felt tempted to say that just to piss him off. "A pack of cigarettes?" Rowan's smile faded into a scowl. "Okay, fine. Uh... my phone?" He heavily doubted it'd work, but it was worth trying anyway.

Much to his surprise, Rowan nodded. "But only under the condition that this means I can kiss you whenever I like without a fight. No matter what."

Sawyer hated nothing more than kissing this creep, but it was only kissing, and then he could get his phone back. "Fine." He watched Rowan take off the record and sit on the couch, patting his lap. Sawyer took a deep breath and sat on his lap. Rowan cupped his cheeks and leaned forward to connect their lips. Sawyer shuddered but returned the kiss.

Rowan was a horrible kisser, which Sawyer suspected was because he didn't have much experience. Or maybe he was just bad at everything ever. Sawyer honestly couldn't care less; he just wanted to get this over with as fast as possible.

Unfortunately, Rowan was in no hurry. His lips were sloppy and clumsy as he moved them against his own.

Sawyer attempted to mimic his movements and found that they did work better together that way. Rowan was moaning into his mouth and gasping in between kisses.

He yelped when Rowan flipped their positions so he was straddling him, holding him against the couch, and grabbing his thigh to wrap around his waist.

Sawyer panted for air when Rowan finally pulled away from him to catch his breath. The taller man was flushed red and looked absolutely wrecked already from a single make-out session.

"Holy shit," Rowan breathed heavily. He was looking at him as if he had hung the moon and stars.

The shorter man's stomach twisted when he realized how hard he was against his leg. "Can I have my phone now?"

Rowan blinked in confusion before remembering the deal they had made. He nodded and grabbed him by the hand, leading him outside, much to Sawyer's puzzlement.

They stopped in front of a winterberry bush. Rowan retrieved a shovel from a nearby shed and began digging through the dirt.

When he had uncovered an object wrapped in plastic, he placed the shovel on the ground and lifted the object out of the hole. "Here." Rowan handed it over to him with a grin. "Sorry for the wait."

Sawyer examined it for a moment and peeled off the plastic to reveal the phone. His hopeful expression turned into anger very quickly as he looked over the device. He groaned in annoyance when he saw it was completely shattered to pieces. "You asshole! What the fuck is this?" Sawyer raised his voice, holding up the broken phone.

"What are you talking about? It's your phone."

"It's completely shattered! I can't even turn it on!"

"Oh, well that's also because I removed the battery."

Sawyer clenched his jaw in frustration. "Why the fuck did you even bother giving me a broken phone?"

Rowan was frowning, but Sawyer could see the smug smile tempting to make its way to his face. "You told me you wanted your phone. If you wanted a working phone, you should've specified that."

He was an idiot for thinking Rowan would've kept his end of the bargain. "Just--fucking whatever." He opened his mouth to yell at him more, but Rowan shut him up with a peck on the lips. Sawyer growled but knew he couldn't do anything about it.

Rowan had won, again.

#rowan oc #sawyer oc #whump #yandere whumper #male whumpee #male whumper #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #tw noncon touching #noncon touching #whump fic

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hauntingblue · 21 days

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Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

#i still cant believe how much this new opening theme goes off.... DREAM SAVE ALL OF US 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH 💥💥💥💥💥💥#wait a second. the robot attacked 200 years ago. the void century was 800 years ago no????? what #oh see it was made 900 years ago.... but why did it attack 200 years ago then.... what happened #it is still so funny how they made evegapunk einstein but with some cunty long legs #200 years ago they gave rights to the gyojin!!! i see i see ✍️✍️also i still wonder why law and kuma have similar hat and pants designs #like there is NO WAY that much similarity isnt done on purpose. NO FUCKING WAY!!! I NEED ANSWERS!!!#are they annihliating cp ships akdhakskd yeah vegapunk letsgo #also the opening song is about dreams and the end one is about luffy reaching shanks...... havent got a clue why but there it is #talking tag #watching one piece #episode 1098 #also is lucci named lucci bc it kinda sounds like luffy. SERAPHIM KUMA HAS HIS DEVIL FRUIT???? vegapunk could only make zoan fruits????#also wdym when cp0 acts it means its some historic event. lucci is like 25. where are the experienced people here #sentomaru works for vegapunk??? maybe i forgor about this tbh also do theu have a doffy seraphim??? the fact they have animal names....#stussy letting kaku get hurt akdhsjsn oh atlas has lamb ears..... and lucci said she is is prey... no..... the foresahdowing :(#lucci you fucked up she just gave luffy food... that a death sentence look what happened to kaido #episode 1099 #<- oh my god btw. god. jesus.#why is akainu telling the cp0 what to do or thinks he can do that... thats the world gov... also thinkng about how garp should fight him #and not luffy.... because of ace you know... i still wonder how did sengoku know who ace's father was... there is only one man who knew....#everyone trying to stop them from fighting ajdhsksjks two rabid dogs fr #LUFFY TAKING OFF HIS JACKET WHEN LUCCI ASKS FOR HIS WANTED SIGN!!!! GO OFF KING!!!! SLAY!!! THE CREW SAW HIM!!! FINALLY!!!#i have been smiling since he started the transformation this is so sick...... i have got a case of the luffy brain #zoan fruits steal the personality of the user when they awaken ✍️✍️ luffy???? nami being the only one who saw gear 5 <3 twins manifesto #robin being so shook about luffy being a god ajdbjansk wdym devil fruits exist because people wish for them. fairy magic real????#WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY ARE FROM ALTERNATE REALITIES WHERE SOMEONE DREAMT ABOUT THEM??? DOES HE TRAVEL THRU REALITIES FOR THEM???#jinbe has been making this face 😧 every episode three times it is amazing ajdhaksnsk poor man... now he sees a kid angel version of himself #after seeing hia captain turn into a god... he is gonna get a stroke OMG SENTOMARU WE JUST GOT YOU BACK #episode 1100 #<- CRAZY. INSANE. OH GOD. ONLY 12 LEFT. THATS A WEEKEND!!! I CANT DO THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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evarenity · 9 months

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Hello I am still alive but I fell back into my SRMTHFG phase

#I don’t talk about SRMTHFG nearly as much as I should but here we go #So! It was one of my favorite shows growing up #And then they took it off of Disney Channel. And it was fucking canceled. On a CLIFFHANGER #And sitting through Intro to Anthropology and being reminded of how weird monkeys are made me think of SRMTHFG again #So here we are I guess #On an unrelated note CelticPhoenix opened up auditions for the Sketchy Huntsmen again and I think I’m gonna shoot my shot #But that means I’ll have to make new stuff this month since I haven’t drawn in a while and my art’s changed since last year’s auditions…#God. What do I do #Anyway back to the subject at hand #I finished Season 2. And I am in pieces #Somehow it doesn’t hurt as much because I’ve seen the episode many times so I already know what happens #But then comments saying that they could’ve pulled the plug on the show right then and that would’ve been how it ended got to me #Not that they should have. But boy what a downer of an ending amirite #Right???#Anyway if you will excuse me I must be productive elsewhere #Eva rambles #text post

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todoya · 2 years

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can’t stop thinking about this

#wano spoilers #one piece spoiler #since like two days ago but yeah this #one piece's end is going to hurt so much AND I KNOW WE HAVE A LONG WAY TO GO BUT STILL #oda knows how much we care about the first mates doesn't he #IDK MAN IT'S SOMETHING ABOUT THE WAS ODEN WROTE IT #'said something to his oldest confidante' sHUT UP I KNOW #and rayleigh's reaction I KNOW I KNOW #yes i'm catching up with wano yes i'll be insufferable about it #roger is too much like luffy it's insane how the animators did like even some of his expressions so like him #they are just some dudes. roger and luffy. funny and adventurous dudes BUT JUST SOME DUDES #seeing how much roger yearned to met the whole world it's so much like luffy's idea of freedom #i've been crying too much about oden so I GOTTA RANT A BIT ABOUT THEM ALRIGHT #it's so funny how much of a sucker i'm for luffy like while watching the whole thing #I was always like 'damn roger's relationship white wb is so nice I hope luffy gets one of these'#i like to he kind of has... a weird mix of kid and law in some way #being closest with law and the rivalry with kid and all that #idk just man wano is so good so good holy shit dsfjsdhkfjksdf #it has been a WHILE since op had me crying like that #like that like mostly when roger talked about what the sea kings were talking about #me gently holding luffy and roger: I just think they are neat.#rayleigh my guy... I get it now I truly do #like we knew they were cool but man...... they REALLY were just some dudes.#also roger really retired and then met the most gorgeous woman oda ever created uhm? good for him good for him #anyway the roger pirates. them #kelly says #dl

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myheartxmyman · 2 months

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'Let me be the own to show you a love that doesn't hurt. One where you won't have to heal from'

#you send me this in a cute little Pic #and I was so so happy #I believed in you and in us #how could we end up this way?#when did this huge never ending heartbreak begin?#when was the first cut? The one that's making us bleed out #was it already when I tried to talk with you about how I am not feeling us the way #I used to?#it's quite a long time ago that I began missing something in our bond #I mean it still seems to be there somehow but some days I am not sure whether that's a good or bad thing #it's barely there but enough to make me stay #it hurts so much #we are on hold #I want us to grow #I want to move together with you; again #my mind knows what's the right thing to do after all the things we put each other through #but somehow there's this itty bitty tiny piece of hope left inside of my hurting heart #how could 'we' turn out so complicated? We used to flow with each other #it was easy with you and it felt so right #now nothing feels alright anymore #right now I am having a huge mental breakdown going through all the emotions and the only thing that would make me feel better right now #would be being in your presence I don't care where but one year and two months in the past #I need your comfort #I need the old you #and I am not able to think straight because my nerves are escalating #I swear if the neighbors won't be quiet in the ne #the next few minutes I am totally gonna lose it

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lemonlover1110 · 2 months

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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀…

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Sukuna comes to terms with the idea of having a daughter with you.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, double penetration, creampie, pregnancy, slightly ooc but still a misogynist, fluff at the end

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“What the hell are you doing?” Sukuna squints his eyes, looking down at you as you knit something for your baby girl. There’s no way of actually knowing the sex of your baby, but something tells you that you’re expecting a daughter. Sukuna negates the thought, assuring you that you’re carrying a son. He can’t possibly have a daughter, he’s always saying something along those lines.

“Just making a little something for our child.” You inform him, and Sukuna frowns. Your child is not going to wear something so pink because they’ll be a boy, Sukuna is sure of it. He snatches the cloth out of your hand and tosses it.

“Why pink? Are you saying we’re having a girl?” Sukuna questions, and you cross your arms. You look up at your husband, mad that he's tossed your hard work to the side.

“You have pink hair, Suku… Are you a girl?” You cock your eyebrow, and he’s not amused. He crosses both pairs of arms, rolling his eyes. Maybe he shouldn’t associate colors with a certain gender because you are right, he does have pink hair… But he also knows that you’re making a pink blanket because you think you’re having a girl.

“Make a blue one.” He orders, and you glare at him. You shake your head in response, you’re not making a blue one. He grits his teeth, grabbing the blanket that he just tossed to the side and shredding your hard work to pieces.

“Keep an eye open tonight, because when you least expect it, I’ll strangle you.” You warn him, and you’re dead serious. It’s clear that you’re carrying his child, you’ve never threatened to kill him before.

“If you even come close to it, I think I’ll fall more in love with you.” He chuckles, walking away, leaving you alone with your own anger. You let out a yell, cursing at him because the twinge of fear that you had for him completely faded a couple of months ago.

He holds no threat to you anymore. Sukuna wouldn’t have done anything to you anyway, since he hates that he loves you so dearly, but the realization that you carry his child and he’ll do no harm to you really gives you much more power and comfort. Sukuna finds humor in a very nonthreatening person, threatening to do something to him; especially when he knows that you can barely lift yourself up anymore.

He knows that you won’t even come close to succeeding in hurting him, and he laughs in amusement at the mere thought. But you’ll get him back, you know you will.

“I thought we were going to spend the day together?” Sukuna asks as he watches you get ready to go out. You never invited him anywhere, so he was shocked to hear that you weren’t at home. He isn’t well liked in public, there’s just something about being huge, having four arms and being extremely scary that people don’t like. Sukuna can kill anyone without a second thought.

“I thought so too before someone ruined the blanket that I was making for my daughter… So I had to get the materials to make it again.” You tell him, and Sukuna nearly gasps when you drop the d word. You’ve always refused to call the baby your daughter since you have no idea what the sex is, but it seems like you use it to piss him off. You click your tongue when you notice his reaction, “What? You’re so overdramatic. You’ve killed for fuck’s sake, why is saying daughter so scary to you.”

“Because we’re having a son!” He yells, getting defensive about it. You don’t understand why he gets upset at the mere suggestion that he’s having a daughter. Before you got pregnant, Sukuna never seemed to care about the gender of a hypothetical baby– Although you shouldn’t be shocked since your husband isn’t exactly the most fair when it comes to different sexes… Sukuna is a misogynist, that’s what you’re trying to get at. He treats all humans with the same disdain, but particularly women. It seems that you’ve forgotten because he doesn’t treat you the same way he treats everyone else.

“Sukuna, we’re having a daughter.” You reiterate, and you watch his eye twitch. You’re doing it to piss him off, he knows it, yet it’s working. “You wanted a baby, Sukuna. You knew there was no guarantee that you’d be having a son, but you still decided that you wanted one. You can’t cry about having a daughter.”

Sukuna takes a deep breath, surprisingly managing his anger well. He decides to leave the room, leaving you alone to do whatever the hell you want. You fuel his anger even more, yelling at him, “And don’t come back until you fix your attitude!”

You stare off into the distance, your hand resting on your bump. You begin to wonder what Sukuna will actually do, and you can’t do anything but hope that he’ll come around to the idea because you know Sukuna. He isn’t good whatsoever, he won’t hesitate to hurt her, even if she’s his own flesh and blood. You’re not sure you could stay by his side if he were to do anything, but you wouldn’t really have any other option either.

You decide to go to sleep, because thinking about it further won’t really help you in any way. You delude yourself, thinking that he’ll come around to the idea.

A large pair of arms wrap around you, waking you up from your slumber. Sukuna does it to try and be romantic, but he nearly suffocates you. You slap his arm, telling him, “Loosen the grip–”

He loosens his grip, which lets you know that he wasn’t trying to kill you. Thankfully. Sukuna would never do anything to harm you, but sometimes you swear you don’t know him much. It’s very rare when you get a heart to heart with Sukuna where he actually talks about him, he usually prefers to listen to listen, and to threaten anyone in the stories that offend you in the slightest.

“Can I say something without you getting mad?” You begin, still half asleep. Sukuna furrows his brows. Due to his lack of answer, you decide to speak, “You’re overreacting.”

“I just don’t know what I’d do with a daughter.” He confesses. He doesn’t know how he’d handle her, how to treat her fairly, how he would– He doesn’t know how he would do anything. He doesn’t know what being a woman entails so he won’t know how to teach her anything. He wants to teach her how to do everything.

“Everything you’d do with a son.” You reply. You really doubt that your child will be raised to have great morals, so there’s no point in really raising them differently. “Sukuna, how will it be different?”

“How will it not be different?” He sounds offended. There’s nothing similar between men and women. Sukuna’s hands go to your bump, his hand caressing it. “But for my heir, I guess I can make an exception.”

“Is that your way of telling me that you won’t make a fuss over the possibility of having a daughter?” You ask him, and his silence gives you an answer. Yes, Sukuna is fine with it, as fine as he can be at least.

His hand goes under your nightgown, caressing your thighs. You feel Sukuna kiss the back of your neck, and you squeeze your thighs, his large hand stuck between them. The man rarely touches you nowadays, seeing you as fragile as ever. You don’t know about the sudden change, but you certainly don’t mind.

“What changed in you?” You ask him as his hand goes up to your panties. He pushes them to the side because last time he tore something of yours, you got too mad at him so he’d rather not risk it. His fingers run through your folds before going to your clit, and you bite your bottom lip due to pure excitement.

“Was thinking about how I’d be nothing without you.” He confesses, letting you know that he didn’t come to terms with having a daughter– Sukuna is a man that fears nothing, at least that’s what you thought up until now. He fears losing you. It’s your issue… You’ve never paid attention to the love in his eyes when he speaks to you or about you. Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you mean to him. “Then I remembered how gorgeous you look carrying our son.”

“If you say that again I’ll–” You begin but Sukuna is two steps ahead of you. He pushes two large fingers inside of you. You can’t help but moan, covering your mouth immediately. One of his hands pulls your hand away, even in the dark he knows what you do. After all, you’re not just getting to know him, but he’s getting to know you too.

“Did I tell you to be fucking quiet?” He asks through gritted teeth. You have to be quiet at other times, like when the baby gets here and you risk waking them up. Now, if any of the servants hear, that’s their fucking problem. “Be loud, my love. Remind everyone who you belong to.”

“They know.” You tell him, which is quickly cut off by a moan as his fingers move faster. You feel his thumb graze your asshole, teasing you before he pushes it in. “Suku–”

“You’re not going to be able to stay quiet.” He ends up laughing. You never do because he’s just too much for you to handle. He curves his fingers so they hit your sweet spot. You shut your eyes, quickly succumbing to pleasure. You’ve missed this feeling so much, and he refuses to give it to you.

Sukuna loves when you turn into putty by his touch. It takes practically nothing to work you up, and you begin to squeeze around him. He smirks, knowing that it takes nothing for you to be practically screaming his name. Sukuna speaks into your ear, “Already so excited for me? Do you want more?”

“I need more.” Your voice sounds so demanding and Sukuna laughs. Another hand goes under your nightgown, his fingers focusing on your clit. You loudly moan his name as it all gets too much for you to handle.

“Is it too much?” He mocks you as your orgasm builds up, until you finally reach your peak, your legs shaking. Sukuna takes his fingers out, shoving the fingers that were in your cunt into your mouth, making you gag.

Sukuna lights a candle, providing some light in the room. You sit up, getting on top of him, undoing his robe. Your body yearns for more, and he smirks since he knows it. You lean down, your lips going on his, your tongue entering his mouth and pressing against his own. When you pull away from the kiss, you mutter, “I’ve missed you.”

You raise yourself, aligning the cock on the top with your pussy before slowly pushing yourself down on it. You take a moment to adjust to him since it’s been a while since the last time you’ve fucked her. You begin to bounce on him, and Sukuna spits in his palm, grabbing the cock on the bottom and teasing your asshole with the tip.

Sukuna holds you down when he begins to push the other tip in your asshole. Even though you’re expecting a child together, you’re still loud when he fills both of your holes. It’s too much for you to handle at first, but throughout the time you get used to it.

“Tight little cunt–” He groans, and he never thought that he of all people would end up touch deprived. But then he got too scared to hurt you in any way when you knew you were expecting, so he stuck to… Nothing. To suppress his dirty thoughts.

“Move.” You order, too tired to continue. Sukuna begins to move for you, thrusting slowly in and out of you. He continues at the pace you had set.

“Is it good? You’re making a fucking mess.” He says as he picks up speed. You throw your head back, one hand going down to play with your clit as he thrusts in and out of you.

“It’s so fucking good–” You answer. You’ve been needing this every single fucking night, and you’re lucky to be receiving it now. He’s finally giving into your cravings.

“You just love being filled up like a little slut, don’t you?” Sukuna’s hand goes up from your bump to your mouth, shoving two fingers into your mouth again. He feels the vibration of your moans through your tongue before you begin to twirl your tongue around his fingers.

Sukuna loves the way you take in his cocks, smiling at you at how well you take him– Of course he wouldn’t tell you though. Your hands go to his chest, using it for support as well as subconsciously digging your nails into his skin. It stings for him, but he can’t help but love it.

Sukuna does you a favor, his fingers rubbing your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head,

A second orgasm overtaking you. Sukuna feels you squeezing on both of his cocks, feeling himself get weak.

“Suku–” You loudly moan as you reach your second orgasm. Sukuna mocks you for it.

“What? Can’t handle it?” He asks, your nails digging deeper into his skin. He’s losing control, his thrusts getting sloppy. It’s been so long since the last time he did this– And when he finishes, he fills both of your holes with so much cum, and you swear you’re in heaven because there is no better feeling than this.

When he takes his cocks out, so much cum drips out of you. You end up falling on his chest, him wrapping a pair of large arms around you while another fixes your clothes.

“This is a nice way to apologize for misbehaving.” You comment, and Sukuna scoffs.

“Who said I was apologizing?” Sukuna is frowning, and you lightly smack his face which pisses him off more. He holds your hands so you don’t try to do anything more with them.

“I’ll take it as an apology.” You tell him. Sukuna wants to laugh, but he manages to keep a poker face. He grabs you up by your hair, putting his lips on yours.

“It was not an apology, woman. Shut your mouth.”

Bonus:

You swear that hell is freezing over because what the hell is the scene you’re witnessing. You’ve never seen Sukuna like this… You don’t think you are supposed to see him like this.

“Who’s a headstrong girl?” Sukuna is putting on a baby voice for fuck’s sake. For a daughter that he didn’t want. Your baby girl laughs, and he falls in love all over again. She’s just so fucking perfect– With her little eyes, her little nose, her little mouth, her four little arms, her soft pink hair. She’s everything to him.

“Do you need anything, Sukuna?” You approach them, but Sukuna pays little attention to you. He keeps looking down at his daughter who lays on your bed. She’s in need of a nap but Sukuna doesn’t like putting her to bed because she’s boring then.

“Yeah, how do I order another one of these?” He asks, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Of what?” You respond, wondering what the hell he talks about.

“Another daughter.”

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna x reader smut

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arachine · 8 months

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yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing.

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks.

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince:

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’”

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up.

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad.

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?”

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there.

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily.

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy.

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.”

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level.

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes.

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him.

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after.

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.”

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping.

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner.

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence.

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question.

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod.

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement.

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her.

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul.

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall.

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat.

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice.

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed.

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life.

“You tried any dating apps?”

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?”

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?”

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces.

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes.

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars.

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!”

“Right…”

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too.

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match.

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace.

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail.

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’.

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry.

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch.

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response.

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself.

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality.

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.”

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone.

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type.

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more.

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit.

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders.

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it.

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties).

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile.

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds.

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are!

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol).

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so?

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice.

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say.

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other.

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it.

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this).

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too.

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual.

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago.

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half.

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’.

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way.

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult.

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’”

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call.

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet.

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body.

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!”

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother.

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking.

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.”

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention.

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki.

“Come in, hon!”

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room.

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception.

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment.

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time.

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly.

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana.

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate.

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you.

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone.

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue.

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them.

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here.

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know.

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–”

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him.

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it.

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something.

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder.

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t.

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact.

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase.

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger.

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?”

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now.

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway.

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go.

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs.

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’.

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children.

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep.

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him.

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted.

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight.

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity.

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say.

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date.

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further.

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now.

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot.

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first.

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened.

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out.

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch.

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks.

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?”

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom.

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you.

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.”

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation.

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.”

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting.

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow.

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious.

“Wait, what?”

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d.

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance.

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness.

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating.

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?”

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes.

“I don’t know…” you trail.

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow.

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway.

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you.

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.”

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?”

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.”

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter.

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed.

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate.

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating.

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed.

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit.

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental?

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence.

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more.

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.”

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver.

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers.

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door.

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?”

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time.

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?”

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?”

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you.

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?”

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal.

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly.

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.”

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat.

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence.

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water.

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?”

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows.

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?”

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?”

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly.

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter.

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?”

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass.

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased.

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment.

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?”

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy.

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed.

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!”

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.”

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.”

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song.

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns.

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them.

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame.

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage.

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems.

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were.

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down.

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling.

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful.

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs.

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.”

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay.

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles).

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it.

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs.

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.”

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago.

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.”

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees.

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound.

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core.

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love.

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.”

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you.

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation.

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins.

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?”

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue.

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit.

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.”

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor.

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them.

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.”

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes.

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone.

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand.

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you.

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears.

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers.

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously.

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.”

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm.

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind.

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.”

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You.

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally.

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt.

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give.

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.”

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium.

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.”

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days.

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp.

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more.

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration.

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.”

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you.

Soon, that silence is broken.

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do.

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads.

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying.

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you.

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages.

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants.

“Shit!”

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you.

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!”

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom.

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

#art by: @yamada_souko (twt)#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk smut

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lovebugism · 4 months

Note

istg that “just because you’re beautiful and a good kisser does not mean i forgive you.” “you think i’m beautiful?” is sooooo eddie coded.

i'm picturing a sorta enemies to lovers with eddie pulling yet another prank on reader (we all know this boy has the emotional maturity of a five year old when it comes to making a move on the girl he likes) but he really does hurt her feelings this time so he tries to make it up to her and they end up kissing.

from what you've written before i think you could put a great spin on this sorta scenario, if you feel like it <3

hope you like it! :D — you're eddie munson's biggest enemy. and, yes, you're also his soulmate. (enemies to lovers, secret relationship, 0.9k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

You storm into the bustling lunch room, having traded your pretty corseted blouse for a piece of oversized Corroded Coffin merch — definitely not by choice. “Do you have a death wish?” you ask when you reach the Hellfire table at the very back of the cafeteria, zeroed in on its leader at the head of it.

Eddie turns slowly, blinking up at you with innocent button eyes. His chews through the hamburger wadded in his cheek. “Potentially,” he answers, muffled before he swallows it down.

You huff, too easily frustrated. It isn’t any wonder why he likes to mess with you so much. “Where are my clothes?”

“The ones you left on my bedroom floor last night or…?”

“No, you idiot— The clothes you stole from the girl’s locker room. Which makes you a total perv, by the way.”

“Oh, that sexy little number?” he croons, turning in his seat to face you more. “It’s in my locker, actually.”

“Well, get it out,” you say with gritted teeth.

He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips to the side. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”

Your jaw tightens. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, Munson.”

He smacks his lips against his teeth, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. He wags a sarcastic, ringed finger at you. “See— Those aren’t the values a nice girl like you should have—”

“God, you’re infuriating,” you groan and stomp off again.

Eddie smiles to himself while he watches you go, cheek tilted lazily to his shoulder. The only thing he likes better than seeing you come (in more ways than one) is watching you leave.

He sighs a deep, contented sigh and turns back to the rest of the table. They’re all wide-eyed and silent, still musing on the sudden interaction with the disbelief that it had happened at all.

Eddie only grins, wider this time. “Ah… She’s obsessed with me.”

—————

By the end of the school day, your blouse hasn’t yet been returned to you. You’re still stuck in the stupid shirt Eddie had left for you — all black, too big, and obviously his. You know it belongs to him because you’ve worn it thousands of times while sleeping over at his place. It smells just like him, like weed and cologne and boy.

You’re heading towards the exits when a hand pulls you into an abandoned classroom around the corner — pale, ringed, and lanky. As if you needed any further confirmation it was Eddie Munson.

You stumble in, and he locks it behind you.

“Don’t you think you’ve bothered me enough today?” you squint.

“Oh, so you don’t want your shirt back?” he teases, waving the thing in his free hand. You reach for it, and he snatches it back, smirking softly down at you. “Uh-uh. What’s the magic word, sweetheart.”

“Give me my shirt back,” you answer in a monotone.

“Not even close, but I’ll give you a kiss for it.”

You sigh like it’s a chore for you and lean in to kiss his cheek. Your lips just barely graze his stubbly jaw. Eddie shrugs. “You missed, but I’m feeling nice today, so—”

You snatch it from him when he hands it to you. “You can’t keep doing this, Eds. We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“Well, one, we do hate each other. Obviously,” he scoffs and leans back on one of the desks. It shifts under his weight, and he stumbles. He decides to sit on it completely while you laugh. “And two, this was, like, a genius prank on my end. I made my arch nemesis walk around in my shirt all day— you’re not giving me enough credit for this, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, except I got called the freak’s girlfriend all day.”

“By who?”

“Who do you think?”

He ponders for a moment. “…Jason?”

You nod, all slow because it’s obvious. The only one who hates Eddie more than you do is Jason Carver. You wonder if he’s secretly in love with the town freak, too.

“Well, it’s about time he knows who you belong to,” the boy says with a laugh. “He’s only been trying to get with you for two years.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t belong to anyone— I’m not a toy.”

“Well, yeah— only when you wanna be,” Eddie teases, reaching out for you. His ringed fingers curl around your wrist to pull you closer. You sigh in annoyance but walk between his thighs anyway.

“You’re so annoying.”

Eddie grins, pink and boyish. “But you like me anyway. So who’s the real loser?”

“I thought we hated each other,” you quip with narrowed eyes.

“I was kidding— Just kiss me.”

You giggle quietly and lean in to peck his lips. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint, mouth soft like flower petals. You get lost in him too easily. One peck becomes two — then three — then a longer, languid, and more drawn-out thing.

You feel Eddie smile against you, knowing he’s won now that you’re melting for him. You pull away with a smack when you regain your senses.

“Just because you’re pretty and a good kisser, doesn’t mean I forgive you, by the way. You know that, right?”

“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly, already leaning forward to kiss you again.

You pull softly back. “And that I’m totally getting you back for this?”

“Yep.” He pecks your lips once, with a lot more self-restraint than you’d had. “So… When are you coming over to get the clothes you left at my place last night?”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

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nxuvillette · 3 months

Text

“I PROMISE, IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.”

GENSHIN MEN COMFORTING YOU AFTER A FIGHT

synopsis: you and your boyfriend hardly ever fight, so what happens when you finally have one?

❥- including : tartaglia (childe), cyno, kaeya, wriothesley

❥- note : hi guys !! sorry if this post is kind of shit, i kind of rushed it. i hope you guys enjoy regardless <3 reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, angst, arguing, hurt with comfort, use of pet names (baby), fluff, dumb fights, lots and lots of fluff at the end.

♡ TARTAGLIA (CHILDE)

you and childe hadn’t spoken for much of the day, and this was due to an argument that happened between you two just before you sat down for some breakfast.

it was stupid, genuinely.

childe had completely misinterpreted something you had said that morning. you were talking about one of your friends and their relationship. for some reason, childe thought you were comparing your relationship to the one your friend had, and it made him question if he was doing enough to make you happy. one thing led to another, and the two of you bickered over the encounter. you tried to explain yourself, but your boyfriend, being the stubborn man he was, didn’t bother to listen and went off on his own accord.

you and childe hardly had any fights. they would usually resolve after an hour or two, but you hadn’t seen him all day. part of you began to grow worried from his sudden absence. did he go out and do something to hurt himself? was he with somebody else? no, there was no way childe would ever cheat on you. he didn’t even look in another woman’s direction when he saw you that day.

it wasn’t until sunset when childe had finally returned home to you. he had a few scrapes on his arms which seemed like they came from him battling another enemy, but regardless, he seemed to be in one piece. you were very relieved to see that he was fine. it made you run into his arms the moment he came into the door, which took your boyfriend by surprise. he was under the impression that you were still pissed off at him for the shit that he had pulled early on in the day. he knew he was wrong and he should have apologized, but he didn’t know how to put it into words. sometimes he wished he wasn’t so air headed.

his arm went around your waist, bringing your body closer to his. the smell of his skin made you calm down. “i thought something bad happened to you..” your eyes didn’t move from the floor.

childe could sense the worry that was in your voice. he shouldn’t have done that to you. he would never want to make you feel scared or put you under the idea that he would leave you. he wasn’t going to ever leave like that again, ever. “i’m sorry, baby..” he whispered, running his fingers along your backside. “i’m such an idiot.. i shouldn’t have said that shit. i love you way too much to hurt you..”

you lifted your head to meet his ocean blue eyes. he had this frown on his features. you could see how guilty he felt for putting you in such a position. no matter what, you would always be in love with childe. no small argument would make your feelings for him shift, ever. you knew he could be stubborn at times, and honestly, so could you. all that mattered to you in the end was that you two made up and forget the whole thing. “it’s okay.. i still love you, okay?” you smiled at him, which made his heart skip a beat.

childe couldn’t help but smile, too. he leaned towards you and planted a kiss on your lips. he didn’t ever want to see you frown again. he would do anything to see a smile on your pretty face. “let me make up for it.. how about we take a bath together, hm?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows.

you nodded your head. “sure..” you grinned.

♡ CYNO

you didn’t expect cyno to get upset earlier.

cyno was in a bit of a rush that afternoon. he had a lot of things to tend to as the mahamatra, so he typically had a busy schedule. at the time, you had no idea that he had to be somewhere at a certain hour, so when you saw your lover wandering around aaru village by himself, you decided to go and talk with him to ask how his day was.

he kept his responses to you a bit shorter than usual, but that’s how he usually was. cyno was more the type of man to listen more than he did talk, but the more you kept speaking, the more he grew somewhat irritated. he had to meet with candace and discuss something that had occurred on his way there. he had to return as quickly as possible, though, because there were several people who needed his help out there.

cyno had accidentally snapped at you, which in turn made you fire back at him.

it was very out of the ordinary for him to ever get angry with you. cyno was very patient, and he was especially with you. he was never the kind of man to be rude to you or yell at you, ever, so this threw you off completely. before he could even apologize, you left and went back to the place you two shared together.

he didn’t return home until later that night. he had been thinking about what he had done all day, and it made him feel guilty for being that way towards you. you were his girlfriend. he loved you more than anybody else, and he managed to hurt your feelings because he was unable to control his very own. cyno hoped you wouldn’t want to leave him. anxiety plagued him the entire day. he wondered if he would return back to you and find that you deserted the home you two stayed in.

much to his relief, you were lying in bed. you were turned on your side that was facing the window which exposed the vast desert outside. he sat down beside you and watched as your eyes fluttered open at the sudden weight taking over the bed.

“i’m sorry..” cyno whispered, looking down at you with amber eyes.

you sat up, crossing your legs on the mattress. you didn’t think he would come back being so apologetic, but you couldn’t help but forgive him. it did hurt your feelings a lot, but he was dealing with so much. it didn’t excuse what he did, but you two never fight. he wasn’t argumentative everyday. “it’s okay.. i just felt like shit for bothering you. i should have considered your schedule..” you didn’t want to look at him, but he tilted your chin to look into your eyes.

cyno leaned in and hugged you, which took you by surprise. “no need.. i was an asshole for not controlling myself. you didn’t deserve any of that..” he squeezed your body. “i love you.. i hope you can forgive me.”

your hand rested on his shoulder blade. his skin felt warm from the blazing heat of the sun that he was under constantly. “i love you too..” you spoke. “i can forgive you, no worries.”

♡ KAEYA

you and kaeya had been dating for quite a while. since you were his girlfriend, there were some things that you needed to get accustomed to in the relationship.

especially kaeya’s drinking habit.

you didn’t mind that he would go off to the bars some nights to have a few drinks with his friends. hell, you did it a few times yourself with your own friends, but it became an issue when he would come late to your dates due to him being hungover the next day. you knew he couldn’t help but sleep an extra hour or two through the morning, but it had happened a few times and it led up to an argument occurring between you. you claimed it was a bother to you and he wasn’t being considerate of your time and energy.

what made it worse was kaeya usually was the one to make these plans, so for him to just not show up, it felt unfair to you. if he knew he was going to drink a lot, why would he continue to make plans with you the next day? it didn’t make any sense to you whatsoever, and you were tired of him either not showing up or having to go to his house to wake him up.

when you stormed out of his house and the door slammed behind you, kaeya felt immediate regret plaguing his chest. he did everything for you in the relationship and you did the same for him. he felt like he was an idiot for letting his drinking habits get a hold of your relationship. he didn’t have a drinking problem by any means, but he knew when he had too much he wouldn’t want to do anything the next day. you were right. it was unfair of him to miss out on spending quality time with you. he didn’t want to make you feel unimportant or a second priority. kaeya loved you more than life itself. how could he hurt the one person he poured his heart and soul into?

he gave you a bit of time to blow off steam. he knew chasing after you could escalate things further, so he decided to leave you alone for the rest of the day. however, he wasn’t about to let you both go to bed angry with each other.

so, when he showed up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, you were quite surprised. you didn’t think kaeya would even bother making an effort to talk things through with you, but he was standing there with an apologetic expression. “can we talk? i understand if not.. but i just don’t want you going to bed pissed at me.” he clutched the flower stems in his hand, hoping you would hear him out.

you nodded your head, inviting him into your home and watching him step inside. kaeya then turned to face you, handing the flowers in your direction. they were your favorite, lamp grass. you loved the way they glowed in the dark. “kaeya.. i’m-“ you started, taking the flowers from him.

“i’m sorry.. i didn’t mean to keep missing out on our dates. i was a shitty boyfriend for keeping up with my behavior, and i shouldn’t have been doing that in the first place.” he cut you off, shocking you. “i love you, (y/n), and i don’t want you to think otherwise.”

you stood there for a few moments in silence. you weren’t sure what to say to him, but you could sense his genuine energy in his voice. “i forgive you..” you said, lifting your eyes to meet his. “i don’t want it to happen again, okay? i love to spend time with you and i don’t wanna feel like you dislike my presence.”

he took your free hand into his, placing a soft kiss on the top of it. he had been a gentleman since day one and it seemed like that attribute of him never left his personality. “i love seeing you more than anybody else, please don’t think you’re a burden. i’d do anything to spend any waking moment with you by my side, okay? i won’t ever do it again.” kaeya replied, stepping closer to where you were standing.

you smiled, pressing a kiss on the side of his cheek. he loved how soft your lips felt against his skin. “i appreciate that..” you sounded much happier, which relieved him.

kaeya wasn’t going to do that ever again. he could never lose you, ever.

♡ WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley was quite a busy man. it was something you knew you were signing up for when you started to date him a few months back. his job was tiring, exhausting even. he had a huge responsibility on his shoulders to carry, and sometimes it stressed him out more than he would like to admit.

it seemed like that stress began to reach its breaking point, because wriothesley hadn’t been acting right over the last few days. you assumed he was just dealing with his job, so you decided to try and see if venting would have any relief to your boyfriend. you two had done it many times before when things got a little hectic in your personal lives. plus, you both trusted each other greatly. you didn’t think he would have an issue with it.

well, you were wrong, unfortunately.

when you made the attempt to speak to your boyfriend about what was wrong, he had a serious attitude, and things escalated to you two both having a fight. you didn’t like the way he was speaking to you and he was becoming upset with you for no reason at all. all you had asked him was if he wanted to talk, but it seemed like that question alone must have ruffled his feathers.

you two never fought, so this had completely blindsided you.

wriothesley then left for work, leaving you by yourself in the apartment you lived in. it wasn’t your intention to make him angry with you. all you wanted to know was what was troubling him to make him feel so overwhelmed. that fact crept up on wriothesley immediately after he entered his office at the fortress. he shouldn’t have snapped at you that way. it wasn’t right, nor was it excusable. he was the one person who was supposed to make you happy, not hurt.

a few hours later, he returned home a lot earlier than usual. things were slow at the fortress, so he decided to leave early and try to patch things up with you. he found you sitting on the couch with a book in your hands, seemingly trying to read away what had happened earlier between you. you were a bit taken back to see him standing in front of you, but you didn’t know what to say to him.

“i’m sorry.. i was out of line earlier.” he broke the silence between you. it was like popping a balloon. “i get it if you’re pissed at me.. i can give you space if you’d like.”

you sat there for a few moments. you closed the book in your hands and placed it on the wooden table in front of you. wriothesley was right. he shouldn’t have been that much of an ass to you. you didn’t deserve such treatment, but you loved him. he was never like that towards you and your friends had told you before that random fights are normal. “it’s okay.. i forgive you.” you replied, standing up to go in front of him. “please.. just promise me you won’t do that again.”

his hands went to cup your cheeks. his thumbs brushed against your smooth skin. you could see how guilty he felt for doing what he had done. “i promise.. i swear, (y/n), i’ll never do that again. i could never hurt you like that, ever again.” he looked down at you with sincerity on his features.

you leaned in to hug him. wriothesley inhaled the fresh scent of your shampoo and felt immediately calmed from your touch. he loved you, dearly. he could never do that to you again and he vowed to never pull a stunt like that with you ever again.

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thevoidstaredback · 2 months

Text

Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

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livinginshambles · 10 months

Text

How much are we worth? | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Sirius bets that James can't get a girl to go out with him. James pursues you and falls for you. You are hurt when you find out that you were just a bet, even more when you realise how little they bet on you.

Notes: A classic: Strangers to friends to lovers, Angst, Bet trope, Fluff and happy ending because yey, I believe in second chances :) Existence of a wardrobe that works like newt scamanders suitcase and SPeLLing Mistakes

Masterlist

_________________

In hindsight, you should've known.

"Have you maybe considered giving up on her?" Remus' question caught James off guard when he returned to the marauders at the Gryffindor table after another failed attempt and rejection by Lily.

"Not until she's given me a chance at least," James responded, eyes trained on Lily's retreating figure. "Besides, this chasing game is sort of our thing now."

The marauders nodded sceptically.

"Not particularly the dynamic I'd want to have with the person I fancy," Peter whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. James shot him a look as if Peter had just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.

Sirius snorted out loud. "Dynamic my ass, yeah." He threw a piece of bread across the table in James' direction.

"He's stuck with Lily now because if he decides to chase some other poor girl and inevitably get rejected, it'll prove that James Potter just can't get some," he added, wearing a shit eating grin on his face.

James pulled a face at Sirius. "Oh please I can get girls. It's just that contrary to you, I actually show commitment to only one," he huffed.

Sirius shrugged. "You say that, but you've never even had a girlfriend. Been pining over Evans since first year. Besides, commitment or being stuck," he weighed his hands in the air. "Same same."

James rolled his eyes and got up. When he turned around, he crashed into someone who had been standing behind him, tripping her, and he sent her crashing into the Ravenclaw table behind him. The Ravenclaw sitting at that table ducked out of the way. She stuck her hands out to brace herself and loudly hissed when her hand ended up in someone's scalding soup.

"Godric, I am so sorry," James scrambled to offer her a napkin. She snatched it out of his hands and dried her hands. James saw that they were scorching red and more apologies stumbled out of his mouth.

"Let me help you get to madam Pomfrey," he offered, concern lacing his tone. He reached his hand out to her and she jerked away.

"Fuck off Potter, I'd rather take a bloody bath in boiling water than go anywhere with you." She spat, and left, hand pressed against her chest, covered by the napkin.

The commotion had everyone turn their heads at him and despite usually being a fan of being at the centre of attention, he embarrassedly sat down again.

"Guess really no girl wants to go anywhere with you, Prongs," Sirius snickered. James offered him a sour look.

"This was just because I literally burned her hand, Pads. Any other time, she would totally go out with me." James boasted, but guilt and concern for the girl who he didn't know, lingered in his mind.

"Right, you wanna bet?"

"The usual?"

"The usual."

They sealed the deal with a nod. Peter and Remus shared a look but they knew that was no use trying to tell them to stop it already. Remus thought back to the scowl on the girl's face and prayed that she would stay headstrong and reject James.

After all, Sirius and James were from wealthy families, so money has never actually played a role during these bets. It’s just the principle of it that counts and is the reason why they only ever bet one galleon. It meant someone would get hurt.

The scowl on your face disappeared with the cool relief of the running water from the girls bathroom on your hand, but the bitter feeling remained when your mind wandered to James Potter. You scoffed to yourself. Arrogant, self pretentious, blood boiling bully. Though never having been a victim of their pranks, you lost several friends to Beauxbatons because of the marauders’ cruelty.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time and left for your Ancient Runes class where you walked to your designated seat next to Lily Evans. You two unsurprisingly got along. Though your personalities were nothing alike, you being rather reserved, you could both value each other’s calm presence and even ‘maturity’ to a certain degree.

She offered you a smile and you nodded at her in acknowledgement. “I’m embarrassed to ask this, but could I maybe share your book? I didn’t have time to pick it up after lunch.” Lily gave you a surprised look but quickly assured you that you could to which you offered her a small but grateful smile.

She opened her mouth to tell you something, when something else, or rather someone else, caught her attention. Before he even reached the table, she had already attempted to ward him off in a monotone voice. “Go away Potter, I’m not interested.”

“Not here for you, Lilypad,” he smugly said and stopped right next to you. Lily raised her eyebrows and looked at you with a concerned look. Without looking up from Lily’s book, you also repeated Lily’s words. “Fuck off Potter, I’m not interested either.”

“I haven’t even said anythi-“

“And I don’t want you to.”

“Okay, but here me out, I-“

“I. Don’t. Want. You. To,” you pronounced every word clearly.

“Come on, just listen-“

You turned around, an incredibly sour look on your face. James couldn’t help but admire you for a moment. You looked pretty, contorted face aside. Especially when you had smiled at Lily. It had caught him off guard.

“Can you spare me a second?” He tried again. For a second, he thought he saw a look of appreciation cross your face at his formulated words, but it was gone in a split second.

“No. Class is starting, get back to your seat Potter,” you dryly responded. You turned back to your book and James walked back to his friends.

James potter was determined though, you had to give him that. You abruptly turned on your heels, ready to walk in the opposite direction, even if it would mean a detour of about 8 minutes to your destination. You were really not into his crap today.

“Y/N!” James called out to you and chased you.

“I told you to call me by my last name. We're not friends, Potter. I don’t want to be. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you. So, for Merlin’s sake, leave me alone, or I swear on his balls that I will hurt you.” You spat the last part out through gritted teeth and

James took a step back in surprise. He looked at you for a moment, carefully considering his next words. “L/N.” He settled on, voice quieter. When you didn’t immediately walk off, he took it as a sign to continue. “I was wondering if you would allow me to sit next to you during our free period between Transfiguration and Potions.”

You raised you eyebrows.

“My friends all took classes and there’s like a two hour gap and I like company, that’s all,” he hastily explained before you could go and reject him.

“What are you, six years old?” You sarcastically asked him. “Can’t spend what, two hours on your own?”

James’ eyes averted to the ground. “Just not enjoying being alone,” he mumbled, almost embarrassedly. You looked at him, great, now you were being an asshole yourself.

“You know the big old wardrobe in the abandoned classroom on the seventh floor?” you eventually asked. James’ eyes lit up and nodded.

“It’s bigger on the inside.” You said.

“A secret room?” He asked while trying to recall seeing an extra room on the map. You nodded. “Not even visible on your map because it’s not Hogwarts. A pocket dimension, Dumbledore said.”

James’ jaw fell slack. “You know about the map?” he whispered.

“You can join me there between classes next week if you want, but I can’t promise you that it’ll be any different to passing the time on your own.” You said, completely ignoring him. You stopped in front of the library. “A word about the wardrobe and I swear-“

“-on Merlin’s balls that you’ll hex me, yeah,” he waved you off with a triumphant smile.

“Witty, are you now.” You looked at him. A small smirk lingering on the corner of your lips. James heart skipped.

“Just one of the effects you have on me, darling,” he winked at you. “L/N,” he quickly corrected when your face fell into a scowl again.

“I’m not kidding though, this is my spot to get away from everything. I don’t feel like sharing it with people.” James felt flattered. So you would share it with him?

“I solemnly swear I won’t tell,” he assured you, a serious expression on his face. “You can trust me, L/N.” He cringed at his own words. Trust him? He was only talking to you to prove Sirius wrong.

“I’ll hold you to it, Potter,” you nodded and entered the library. The door closed and James slouched against the wall next to him. A giddy feeling fluttered in his stomach at the thought of hanging out with you.

“So what happened to rather bathing in boiling water than going anywhere with me,” James couldn’t help but arrogantly ask while trying to keep up with your ridiculously fast walking pace as you two were on your way to the wardrobe. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re going somewhere with me,” you denied, your eyes narrowed at him. James put his hands up in mock surrender. “Lead the way, L/N.”

“I am,” you deadpanned.

James sceptically looked at the oak wardrobe. He and his friends had rummaged through this room already. It included the wardrobe, but it had looked pretty normal.

“Doesn’t look very special,” he said while you were busy locking the door behind you. You made your way over to James and pushed him out of the way roughly. He gaped at you with an offended look on his face. “You know, being a bit more chivalrous wouldn’t hurt you,” he exclaimed.

You shrugged and opened the door. James stared in amazement as he realised that the inside was in fact bigger. He walked to the wall that the wardrobe was standing against and squeezed his hand between the wall and the wardrobe.

“Why are you so surprised?” you asked. “We literally learned about the Extension charm yesterday?”

“We did?”

Maybe hanging out with James Potter wasn’t as terrible as you had expected it to be and so, it became a routine. James had finally realised that his persistence to flirt with you or try to impress you wasn’t getting him anywhere and had opted to actually be considerate of you.

He respected you when you not so kindly told him to fuck off and was sitting next to you quietly while you studied between hours in the wardrobe. He had read the book that he’d seen you read in the courtyard- and was surprised to find himself interested in the story- so that he could talk to you about something when your demeanour told him that he could speak again. He stuck to calling you by your last name and learned to read your mood when he could joke around.

Most importantly, he’d learned to enjoy himself in a comfortable silence that didn’t require him to do or say anything and just let him be.

You two were laying on the couch again, feet propped up, both on opposite sides, but feet touching in the middle. James was admiring you. The way your eyebrows crunched up in a frown, eyes squinted, and lips mouthing the words you were reading.

“You’re careless with spelling, Potter.” You eventually looked up from correcting his assignment. “But that’s a brilliant essay.”

James beamed up at you, relief, pride and happiness all washing over him at once.

“Also, you have a nice handwriting,” you added after considering whether or not you should mention it.

James was now fully grinning, pushing himself to sit up from his relaxed position. “Two compliments?” he asked teasingly and you immediately huffed and looked away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Potter. It’s big as it is.”

“But you think I’m brilliant and that my handwriting is nice.” He repeated happily.

“Your essay was brilliant,” you attempted to correct him, but he seemed to be lost in happy thoughts. You looked at him. He had his arms up behand his neck because he had laid down again. He was grinning from ear to ear and his eyes squinted in delight and satisfaction. He looked so... harmless.

“You know,” you began and James looked up at you, propping himself up a little in curiosity at the fact that you were starting the conversation for the first time.

“I used to think you were the biggest asshole ever. Astoundingly stupid and good for nothing but hurting people.” You were looking up at the ceiling now and missed the way James eyes flashed with mixed feelings.

“I had a few friends, you know. They were great, but everyone called them boring and a stick in the mud.” You turned your head towards James. “You and the rest of the marauders used to tell us to “lighten up already,” and pranked us separately, one by one until all five moved schools.”

James looked down, feeling horrible and guilty. It was true that in his early years at Hogwarts, he and his friends had been going too far with pranks. That kind of stopped after that prank.

“So I’ve held a grudge against you, like any good friend would do,” you smiled to yourself at the thought of your friends. “I think maybe I no longer have to.” James heart melted at your confession. Over the course of weeks, he’d become desperate for your approval and friendship.

“You’ve changed since then,” you concluded out loud. “Not cruel anymore.” You hesitated for a moment.

“James?” You then asked and James looked up at you with wide eyes. He knew that this was the first time that you’d addressed him by his name instead of ‘Potter’.

“Yeah?”

“I really value our friendship,” you whispered. “It’s worth a lot to me.”

James heart both warmed and tightened. “It’s worth a lot to me too,” he whispered back.

“Where were you,” Remus asked when he returned to the Gryffindor common room. “We looked on the map, but we couldn’t find you.”

“And we couldn’t find Y/N either.” James fought the urge to correct them and say that they shouldn’t use your first name like that. That he had worked for your friendship to stop calling you by your last name.

“Do I owe you a galleon now?” Sirius popped up from behind him. “What? No,” James said, thinking of another subject to talk about, wanting to ignore the existence of the bet in the first place.

“I was hanging out with Y/N,” he admitted. “But because we're friends now.”

“Yeah, but where were you hanging out?” Peter asked. “Because we weren’t allowed to leave Hogwarts today.”

“Did you find another secret passage?” Sirius gasped and James immediately shook his head to deny it. “Oh come on, we’re your friends, you have to tell us!”

Remus watched James shift uncomfortably and tried to intervene. “Let him be, Padfoot.” Sirius wasn’t having it though, and when James said that he promised not to tell, he responded with, “What, you value your fake friendship with that stick-up-her-ass girl more than us?”

“It’s not a fake friendship,” he weakly fought back. “Don’t call her that.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry Prongs. I didn’t mean to call her that, hell I don’t even know the girl, she’s probably alright. But you’re keeping secrets, it’s not fair.”

You stared in disbelief at the marauder who wasn’t James, having a hook-up in your wardrobe. When he noticed you in the entrance, Sirius merely held his hand up at you in a greeting. “Thanks for letting me borrow this, this is the best spot for not getting caught.”

You backed away and slammed the door shut. James.

“Potter!” you yelled at him when you saw him leave the Gryffindor chambers. Your face was contorted in anger and you were seething.

He looked up at you, happy feeling in his chest and he was itching to show you the paper behind his back.

You stabbed your finger in his chest, effectively wiping the happy grin on his face off. “You promised,” you hissed. James immediately knew what you were talking about. “I’m sorry, I had to tell him,” he tried to justify his actions and you scoffed. “Fuck you,” you spat and walked off.

James stood there, frozen and stared at the empty spot in front of him. His arms hung by his side and he looked down at his essay which wore a big ‘O’ mark and right next to it in Professor McGonagall’s handwriting, ‘Keep this brilliant work up, Mr. Potter.’

James was watching you, sulking. He had made such progress and now it felt as if all those baby steps were for nothing, instead taking eight long strides back. You had closed yourself off again and James was too intimidated by your glares every time he walked in your direction, so he would change directions last minute every time you burned a hole through his head with your eyes.

‘This is so stupid’ he thought to himself when his body automatically steered him away from you again. He mustered up all of his courage and headed straight for you. He would rather face your wrath head on than go back to being strangers. Especially when tomorrow was free period again.

“Is it okay if I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, nervous.

You scanned him up and down. Everything about him looked remorseful, from his posture to dull eyes to his tone when he asked you if he could have a word. You waved at him to take a seat next to you, and he gratefully took the opportunity.

“I’m sorry. I swore I wouldn’t tell and I did and I shouldn’t have. I would go back in time and stop past me from telling Sirius, but I can’t, but I also don’t want to lose you because I meant what I said. This friendship is worth so much to me.” James took a deep breath. “So please let me make amends?” he finished.

“Okay.”

James blinked. “Okay?” he dumbly repeated.

“That’s what I said.”

“Wait, so that’s it? No grovelling? No conditions?”

“Would you like me to add conditions?”

“I mean..” James stuttered. “Sure?”

“Fine. Consider this your second chance , even though it technically is your third after your horrid behaviour towards my friends. It’s also your last.” You said that last part sharply. “Do you accept those terms?”

James nodded in relief and agreed. It was only when he laid in bed at night that he realised that he should’ve probably gotten clean on the matter of the bet right when he had the chance. He was on his last chance after all. But it would be alright. He would simply call off the bet and then it would be as if nothing ever happened. No one had to know, no one had to get hurt.

He waited after Transfiguration and grinned at you when you made your way to him. He had really looked forward to spending time with you again at your spot. Even if the marauders knew its location now, too.

“Lead the way, Y/N.”

“I am,” you retorted with a hint of amusement in your voice. James grinned and followed you, only noticing after a while that you were walking around on the third floor instead of the seventh. “Did you find a new spot?” he curiously asked.

“Yes. And no.” James huffed at your vagueness, imploring you to explain. “Let’s just say that Dumbledore got himself off my blacklist.” You turned the corner and moved a portrait to the side. James knew of the passageway. It was moist in there and cold so it hadn’t interested him and his friends very much. But behind the door you just opened, stood your wardrobe.

He looked at it, amazed. “You got Dumbledore to move a wardrobe for you?” he asked incredulously. You slyly smiled but didn’t say anything except for “I did the cleaning myself.”

“So what’s going on with you and James,” Lily curiously asked you. You shrugged and brought your water bottle to your lips. “Kept bothering me into a friendship, I guess.”

Lily laughed. “Well, whatever keeps him away from me,” she joked and you let out an audible laugh. She leaned in towards you. “But if he’s no longer fighting for my attention, but yours, I think it might mean that he fancies you.”

You choked on your water. “Most certainly not!” You strictly assured her and composed yourself. Lily laughed. “No need to get so defensive over his feelings. You make it seem as if I suggested that you fancied him,” she said, chuckling. You turned your head away and she gasped. “Do you fancy him?”

“What’s with all this gossiping and boys talk,” you grumbled, unpleased. “But for the record, I don’t think so.” You stuck your nose up.

“You don’t think so?” Lily repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I gravely appreciate him and I feel very comforted in his presence. We’re friends. It doesn’t mean I fancy him.” You answered. “Besides, I’ve never fancied anyone. Not sure I know what it’s like.”

“Okay, how would you feel if he starts dating someone, right now?”

You pondered over the question for a bit. “I guess he can do whatever he wants, but don’t expect me to share our spot with some random girl,” you said, the last part coming out more bitter than you expected. Huh. ‘Did you fancy James Potter?’ you wondered.

“I fancy her,” James told his friends while they were out in Hogsmeade.

“L/N?” Peter asked. James nodded in affirmation. “Well damn Prongs,” Sirius started. “What happened?”

“Y/N and I are good, I think. We fit and it feels amazing. It seems surprising, but we can talk for hours or sit in silence together without it being weird at all. Everything is comfortable with her, in like the good way,” James struggled to express all his feelings about you.

Sirius whistled. “Almost envious of you, Prongs. What about Evans though?”

James shrugged. “Not the kind of dynamic I want.”

“So are you going to tell her?” Remus asked. James puffed his chest. “Of course. I’m not shy about my feelings. I publicly chased after Lily for years,” he reasoned. But despite his big words, he felt like a nervous wreck. Because what if you rejected him?

James found you in the library. “Is now a good time?” he asked. You sat up straight. Last night, you had done a lot of thinking and came to the conclusion that yes, you fancied James Potter. “Yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you,” you replied. You got up and and started to gather your belongings. James grabbed your books for you and you left the library.

“I fancy you.”

James blinked. Were his ears deceiving him? Were you joking? Did you have a bet of your own going on with someone?

“I’m sorry?” he managed to get out, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“I fancy you,” you stated again. Matter of factly. “I came to the realisation yesterday and they do say honesty is the best policy.” James laughed softly at your sad attempt to lessen the awkward atmosphere.

“I actually wanted to talk to you to say the same thing,” he breathed out in a relieved manner. You stared at him in surprise. Okay. Definitely not what you expected.

“So you fancy me.” You repeated to make sure.

“And you fancy me.” James nodded.

“Do you want to go out with me?” you asked.

James’ heart leaped. He had spent so much time asking that question, he realised that how amazing it felt to hear the question directed at him. He grinned. “Glad you asked, darling. Yes, I’ll go out with you.” He reached out to you carefully wrapped an arm around you. You fully leaned into him in a hug and breathed him in.

“Think our relationship just went up in value.” You mumbled, your words slightly muffled by your face, hidden in his sweater.

You felt him laugh. “Well, we upgraded from friends to couple. How much are we worth now?”

You pretended to think about it. “We’re worth all the money in Gringotts bank.”

“That’s a lot of money,” he hummed.

You had taken James out on a date in the middle of the Gryffindor Quidditch stands at night, after curfew. James was the first to lean in and kiss you and when he did, he practically melted into you, your arms slung over his broad shoulders. He’d muttered something about how lucky he was and you’d told him that he better know it, before admitting that you felt the same way.

After you had left him several hickeys, scattered across his neck, he had insisted on returning the favour. He was only on his second when you two were interrupted by Filch, who had spotted you two. You two ran off to the third floor and decided to hide out in your wardrobe until he was gone all while continuing making out. You and James fell asleep in that position. You on your back on the couch, James draped over you like a weighted blanket with his face nuzzled in your throat, and your legs entangled.

Though very surprised at first, your fellow Hogwarts students quickly got used to the idea of you and James in a relationship. It wasn’t long before you were walking down the corridors together, James hand on your lower back and inching lower. You shot him a warning glare and he bit his check when he splayed his hand over your ass with a cheeky smile. You elbowed him in the ribs, earning a huff and let your hand rest on his ass in turn.

Everything was perfect, which is of course why everything had to become a disaster very quickly. James wasn’t even sure how such a perfect night had turned so horrible. One moment, you were partying, everything had been great, and he had been envisioning you and him for the rest of your lives, and the next, he was pleading with you through a locked door.

“Y/N, we can call you Y/N right?” Sirius had drunkenly slurred. You had rolled your eyes at his antics, but nodded. Though you would never admit it out loud, you appreciated the elder Black.

“I like you. We all like you and we’re happy that it’s you and not Evans anymore,” he mumbled on and he stumbled over his own feet, barely reacting in time to not drop to the floor.

You internally smiled at his words.

“I’m sorry that I was an asshole to you. You’re really great. If I had known, I wouldn’t have targeted your friend group for pranks or risked your feelings by making you part of a stupid bet.”

It was as if the world stopped spinning for a moment, music only barely in the background. “A bet?” you spoke in a dangerously low voice.

Sirius seemed to catch on to your change in demeanour and sobered up at an incredible rate. “Shit, no-“

But you had already turned around to find James, Sirius stumbling behind you to try and stop you.

“How much?” you spat out angrily when you found him. The music was luckily loud enough to hide your argument from other students.

James looked at you, confused. “How much?”

“How much are we worth?”

James frowned at you question. “All the money in Gringotts bank,” he calmly answered you and moved to embrace you, thinking you were just very drunk.

You pushed him away and he stumbled a few steps back.

“No,” you hoarsely responded. “That’s how much I think we’re worth. How much did you bet on me.”

James’ blood ran cold. “I-“ His words opened and closed like a fish. “Because the amount better have been fucking worth it, James,” you cut him off.

“Darling-“

You felt numb. “How little?”

“A galleon.”

You nodded and stepped back. “I was wrong,” you shakily breathed out. “You, James Potter, are still cruel.”

James chased you. “Wait, please,” he begged. You ran out of the room, towards the third floor and into the wardrobe hidden behind the door behind the portrait.

James followed you and pulled on the knob to open the wardrobe that you had locked. He sunk down against the doors and took a deep breath.

He had to explain. He had to let you know that you meant everything to him. And that everything was real. Honesty is the best policy after all, right?

“I’m sorry. Darling, I am so sorry. It’s so stupid how it happened. They were saying that I couldn’t get anyone to go out with me and then I accidentally hurt you with the soup incident, so Sirius bet with me that I couldn’t get anyone you to go out with me. I was never planning on hurting you, I swear,“ James rambled.

“I wanted to apologize and make up for your hand anyway. Not that it was out of pity or anything,” he immediately added.

“I did think you were beautiful. I did want to talk to you. And when you rejected me at first, yes, I did want to prove Sirius wrong. But then you were everything. I wanted so desperately to be friends with you because you were right. The bet was stupid, but it was never about money. It was never even about you per se, but I’m so fucking happy that it ended up being you, because I’m in love with you. Please believe me.”

You sucked in a breath at his words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

James jumped at your voice from the other side of the door. “I wanted to, I really did. But I had already screwed up once and you weren’t going to give me anymore chances, so I thought that if I just never told you and called of the bet, pretending it never happened, I could keep you.” He leaned back against the door, eyes tightly shut. “And if we break up, then I don’t regret it, because the past months with you were perfect,” he whispered.

The door abruptly opened from inside out and he stumbled back, having leaned against it. He looked up at you, hovering above him. He knew you. He knew how to read you and right now, you needed space. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, hesitantly and left you alone.

You needed your friends right now.

When James didn’t see you the next day, he accepted that you didn’t want to see him. But by now, almost an entire week had passed and James and his friends were itching to apologize to you at least once more. He decided to ask Lily where you were and was absolutely not prepared for her answer.

“She went to Beauxbatons.” Lily pursed her lips at the boy in front of her in disdain. She knew what had happened but couldn’t help but pity him a little bit when he looked at her like that. Devastated.

James’ world stopped and for a moment he thought he couldn’t breathe. Did you leave? Had he managed to push you away to a whole different school? He thanked Lily for her answer and sat down at his own desk in a daze. His body moved on autopilot for the next few days. He was falling into a routine that he didn’t like.

During free periods, he hid out in the wardrobe, face up towards the ceiling as he imagined you were lying in his arms right then.

You had been gone for a week and a half and had returned to Hogwarts. Feeling lighter in your heart and decisive steps carrying you towards the Gryffindor Quidditch stands, right on time for the match.

You saw James and your heart jumped. He looked good. He had definitely looked better before, but all in all, he looked good. You bit your lip, suddenly insecure and doubting his promise to wait for you. Another twenty points for Gryffindor and admired James from the distance.

When you had arrived at Beauxbatons, you had wallowed in self pity for a day or two before your friends had pulled you out of it and reasoned with you. Surprisingly on James’ behalf.

You knew they were right. You were madly in love with James and he was undoubtedly madly in love with you too. Though it had all started off as a bet, how could you stay upset when it only brought you and James together.

James eyes scanned through the crowd, automatically trailing to the spot where you two had been sitting and kissed during your first date. He had to do a double take when he saw you in the crowds and almost fell off his broomstick when he rubbed his eyes with both hands to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He started making his way towards you when his eyes locked onto the golden snitch. His eyes flickered between you and the snitch, but you had seen it too, so you flashed him a grin. His shoulders relaxed, and he started the chase.

“Darling?” James appeared in the doorway to the boy’s changing rooms.

“James,” you nodded. You were smiling at him, and your warm, inviting tone had him move forward until you were within reach.

“I’ve missed you so much, I thought I lost you.”

“Hm, you’re just lucky that I really really love you too.” You sassed back. James was in front of you in two big steps. “Yeah?” he asked a twinkle in his eye. “Just like that? No grovelling? No conditions?”

You kissed him. “Would you like me to include grovelling?” you laughed at him.

“Yeah actually. You see, I’ve already prepared at least eight different ways to make up to you.”

He pressed his lips to yours again.

“Get a room!” Sirius yelled and you shot him a sour look. He held up his hands in surrender, a shit eating grin still present on his face.

“Fine, but don’t expect your captain back for the celebratory party. He’s mine tonight,” you shot back.

“And every other night, I hope?” James coyly smiled at you. You shook your head in amusement and dragged him away, hand slipping to rest on his ass, his own hand finding its way to yours.

“Lead the way, Darling.”

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