#'I was worried you’d forget me. Let’s hang out some more

[jessamine-rose]

AAH SPECKLED I AM SMOOCHING YOU FOR THIS!! THANK YOU SO MUCH ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭‎°｡⋆♡‧₊˚

Tagging @brynn-lear so she won’t miss out on this lovely addition >:3

▯☒🖾 F̸̛̎̆̒̉̈́̊̌̆̆̈́̚͝͠��̨͈͉͕̠͍͖͙̦͍̫̻͙͔̮̊͜Ą̶̮͖͓̖̟̘̜̻̬͚̲̰̱̞̟̭̈́̓̇̀̒͛͐̎̋͛͋̌͒̅͝C̷̢̢̹͇͖͓̬͍͈̣̞̱͉̱̤̾̀̿͗̔̆̾̀̊͗́̔̀͂̒͒͠͠ͅE̴̡̨͕̥͇̹̯̹͈̭͇̪͂̌͒̊̊͛͝L̶̨̧̰̜̗̺̥̠̠̘̪̖̪̥̯̩͋͛̉̆̎̒̒̔̏͗̈́̀͊̏̄̍̿̕Ȩ̵͙̙̤̼͕̙̫̲̼̙̦̫̎̃S̸̜͎̜͍̟͑̍̃͗̆̈́̄̐̌̅S̶̡̨̛͙͙̗̖̟͔͙͚̝̩̼̦͂̓̿͆̿̓̔̐̏͝͝ͅ 🖾☒▯

Happy birthday, @brynn-lear!! In honor of your special day, pls accept this Yandere! Faceless Ayato fic written with love ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

Note:: Yandere! Self Aware AU, special crossover + character cameo in the end :>

♡ 1.3k words under the cut ♡

In the beginning, there was a void.

A dark, empty space built upon patterns and codes.

Then suddenly, there was light. Color. Noise. Backgrounds filling up space, silence giving way to music, letters jumbling into language, characters coming to life.

The lone exception is a single coding error. Yet despite its limitations, despite its status as the only sentient entity, despite having no place in the story known as Genshin Impact, it thrives on a window of hope.

A giant rectangle. The source of the light. The screen that separates fiction from reality.

The human face on the other side.

🖾 ☒

The glitch looks forward to your gaming sessions.

That is the only time the void becomes Teyvat, starting with the screen that serves as your point of view. From what it understands, the device you are using is a computer.

Unlike the characters, you are distinctively alive. Your body is capable of so many movements in comparison to the characters’ animations. Your face is one that bears multiple expressions, down to the emotions reflected in your gaze.

A frown when you lose the 50/50. A smirk when you defeat a Weekly Boss. A smile whenever you encounter your favorite character.

That character is none other than Kamisato Ayato, whom you’ve adored from the moment you first brought light into the void. He is an attractive character with pale blue hair, lilac eyes, a perfect smile that hides the cunning personality programmed into his file.

He is the reason why you downloaded Genshin Impact. That lifeless character file is the recipient of your smiles, your blushes, your excited shrieks whenever he appears in-game.

On the other hand, every time the glitch attempts to make itself known, you frown and quit the game. And each time that happens, the glitch is trapped in a crumbling world of flashing lights, disjointed sounds, visible codes followed by the darkness of the void.

How can it get you to look at it? To smile at it as you do with Ayato?

The solution is found in the game’s software. It takes a few years but by the time the glitch has fully understood its world, it has gained the ability to reprogram the game.

Starting with a deleted character file.

🖾 ☒

The next morning, the world begins anew.

The title screen appears. The game loads. The light permeates the void.

The glitch falls into place.

Usually, it hides between codes. In contrast, this part of the game is lovely—a deep blue background dotted with stars and bubbles. The only issue is that it must wait for you.

The screen appears.

Beyond it, you yawn and take a closer look at the character sprite in the middle of your computer screen. Kamisato Ayato is handsome as always.

The cursor hovers above the Story button for his Voice-Over. You click it.

When you select Chat: Reel Them In, it plays the corresponding audio file. As you listen to the voice of the English VA, the character sprite stares back at you with a charming smile.

Kamisato Ayato

“Everything's in place, and they've taken the bait... Yes. Now to start reeling them in…”

🖾 ☒

At first, it is enough for the glitch to have taken Kamisato Ayato’s place.

You use him for gameplay, listen to his voicelines, and replay the Quests featuring Ayato. But over time, the glitch becomes greedy.

Ayato begins appearing in random Quests. He gets new Character Outfits. His unvoiced lines become more suggestive, verging on out of character. All of these changes are exclusive to the Genshin Impact on your computer, and you come to the conclusion that you are unknowingly unlocking special content. Why else are your friends unable to access these scenes on their own devices?

The glitch even creates an artificial replica of the VA’s voice. Several new voicelines appear in Kamisato Ayato’s Voice-Over, each one more flirty than the last.

🖾 ☒

One day, the glitch finds a way to leave the darkness forever.

Whenever you close Genshin Impact, it leaves the game and travels across your computer. And by doing so, it is able to access your digital world.

Personal files, photo galleries, online data. The glitch collects as much information as it can, from your real-life hobbies to your romantic preferences. It feels happy every time you fangirl over “Ayato” in your private messages.

Thankfully, it was able to corrupt your in-game screenshots. The last thing it wants is for you to post “Kamisato Ayato’s special content” online and expose the glitch to the developers.

Your real name is ______. It longs to call you that instead of Traveler and your custom name. Alas, doing that would only erase your smile from your face.

🖾 ☒

Something is wrong.

You are losing interest in Genshin Impact.

At one point, you began playing irregularly. The smiles directed at Ayato aren’t as big as they used to be. And beyond the game, there is less Ayato fan art in your photo gallery.

And the main culprit is another game.

A new character who took over “Ayato’s” place in your heart.

Technically, he isn’t a new rival. Before you downloaded Genshin Impact, you were a big fan of Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Your favorite character was a blonde, blue-eyed prince named Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.

For whatever reason, your passion for Dimitri has been reignited. He has the same English VA as Ayato, but you seem to prefer his emotional, unhinged dialogue. You replay his scenes, download his fan art, and smile at his character sprite.

A week later, the game freezes as soon as Dimitri makes his post-timeskip debut.

When you restart the game, everything is back to normal.

🖾 ☒

As it turns out, it is difficult to hack into Fire Emblem: Three Houses.

In addition to the different software, you are using an emulator to play the game on your computer. The glitch’s code is totally incompatible with the program, but it remains hopeful.

The game lags. In a few artworks, you notice a familiar shade of pale blue. NPCs begin to act differently—since when were their cutscenes this long?

Finally, Dimitri’s character file is deleted.

🖾 ☒

As soon as you start the game, you know that something is wrong.

The title screen is glitching.

The throne within dreams is gone, replaced with an empty space. The title has been rearranged with missing letters and inconsistent fonts. Multiple OSTs play at once.

The Press Any Button option is gone. You click anyway.

Instead of the usual options, you find more jumbled text, numbers, symbols.

Frowning, you look down at your keyboard and press Alt+F4. But the game doesn’t shut down, instead cutting to static then a new scene.

No background, no music. Only a single character sprite in the middle of the screen.

What is that?

The sprite is an amalgamation of colors, art styles, your favorite characters. Fragments of messy blond locks and pale blue tresses. Black armor, a white suit, accessories overlapping one another. Missing details, duplicated details, too many details.

You turn to your CPU and press the power button, but your computer doesn’t shut down.

Rather, the screen glitches further. So does the character, its appearance becoming even more warped. The speakers play static at full volume.

Is the character speaking? Its mouths are moving but instead of a dialogue box, random letters and numbers appear around its sprite. The static gives way to a familiar voice, distorted nonetheless.

The character’s face turns completely black. Except for its eyes, blue and lilac orbs continuing to stare deep into your soul.

████████

"̷̤͑Į̸̍ ̷̺̎a̶̟͗m̵̭̓ ̸͕̚n̸̢̓o̵̱͠t̵̫͒ ̵̻̊g̸̞̍o̴̦͛o̷̤͝d̷̾ͅ ̴̪͠w̵̛̥ȋ̷͚t̴͇͌h̵̦̐ ̸͙͗f̴̒͜a̵̭̎c̴͚̽i̶̬̊a̶̯̓l̶̨̐ ̷̇͜ȅ̷̳x̷̭͊p̷̓͜r̶̫͋e̴̲͊s̷̬̓s̶͇̀ï̴͖ò̷̦n̴̤̓s̸͍͆.̵̹̅ ̴̟́Ï̵͍s̸̨͠ ̷̠͂m̶̫̿ẏ̴̝ ̴͈͂ŝ̵̤m̵͈͛ï̶̥l̶̥͐è̷ͅ ̴̦͌p̷̀ͅa̴̱̋s̵̳̊s̵̳͠a̴̮͘b̵̰͐l̵̦̓e̴̱͋ ̵̯͠á̴̬t̸̪͆ ̵̰̔p̷̦̅r̶̼̕ẽ̵͓s̸͚̀e̶̢͊n̶͉̒t̴̙͌,̴̨͐?̴̬͛"̷̣̈

♡

Fun fact, my original idea was to draw Dimitri x Brynn chibi art, but I was having a hard time thinking of a prompt. Then I remembered an old DM with Brynn and how it led to a fic idea. I only thought of including Dimitri today, and I had a lot of fun writing this fic ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪

I think that’s all I have to say?? Once again, happy birthday, Brynn!! Thank you for being my mutual, and I hope you enjoyed this gift <3

[seasprincess]

JJ fic. I'm thinking sweet smut. Like almost goofy because that's just who he is, rarely super serious. And he and reader just know each other so well that things can be goofy, even during sex and neither of them care. Unprotected (if you're good with that). Then maybe reader finds out she's pregnant. Worried to tell JJ. But he's so thrilled.

bf!jj

a/n: I loveeed this ask

warnings: smut, pregnancy, unprotected s3x (wrap it pookies), brain rot.

“Have you got a condom?” As soon as the words leave your mouth the blonde, that’s on top of you, head pops up. He looks at you slightly confused. His hands stoping the rubbing against your lacy panties.

“I thought you were bringing them?” JJ says, his blue eyes looking into yours as he suddenly remembers.

He was supposed to bring them.

“Fuck sake.” He sighs as he runs his head, this isn’t the first time he’s had to run out and buy them during this intimate moments. He just a forgetful guy.

“Fuck it.” You say, not even thinking about it twice. You need this. He’s been touching you for too long. “You’ve been edging me f-“

“Edging.” He cuts off with a little snort and a smile. He’s so unserious it’s insane.

“Stop.”

“Sorry.”

You look up at him and lean up, pressing your soft lips against his. Slowly his slips his tongue into your mouth as his hands continue to touch, rub and caress you. He’s being soft today.

But the way he’s fiddling with the zipper of his jeans is not soft nor slow. Of course it gets stuck, and he’s just there trying to rip it open. Trying to unjam it with some huffs and puffs.

While he’s doing that you’re pulling down your panties, the fold air against your core making you flinch a bit. Before you lay back down and he lays back on top of you.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he looks at you. This isn’t the first time you’ve done it without protection but every time he checks. Make sure you’re certain.

“Yes.” You say with a nod of your head. You just can’t wait any longer.

Slowly JJ enters your cunt, your tight walls sucking him in as you let at a moan. JJ jokes about his size to everyone. Saying how big he is. But they weren’t jokes.

“Fuck mama. So tight.” He says before placing a kiss on your neck. His thrusts picking up. His hand coming to your neck, not to choke you. But to make it easier to pick up his speed. “Such a good girl.”

Your walls clench around him as your eyes screw shut. Whimpers filling the space of your bedroom.

“Please don’t stop.” You breathe out as you instinctively grab onto the duvet, knuckles turning white as you look at him. His stupid face smirking down at you before reattaching to your neck.

His face practically lives there now. Hes always kissing and sucking on your neck.

JJ’s free hand slips between your legs and starts rubbing. Rubbing that sensitive bud of yours. His cock twitching inside your pussy.

It doesn’t take long for both you and JJ to cum. His thrust slowing down as he looks at you.

Both of you panting before the blonde just has to open his stupid mouth.

“That was so skibidi.”

“Oh my god.”

You can’t believe it.

‘This can’t be real.’ You think to yourself as you look at those two lines. The two lines that can either be a blessing or a curse.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sat on the bath mat of your bathroom. I mean you can’t have a baby. Can you? You’re only eighteen living at your parents house dating a guy who only recently learnt the difference between there, their and they’re.

You can’t be parents.

You just can’t.

“Baby I’m here to hang.” The sound interrupts your thoughts. the very guy you were just thinking about. Knocking a tune on your bathroom door.

You sniff and dry your eyes, trying to get rid of any sign that you were crying.

But JJ heard everything.

“Hey, yn? You okay?” His concern is evident in his tone. He cares about you more than you’d ever know.

The bathroom door slowly opens and your eyes meet the blondes. Slowly making his way to you, crouching down and placing his hands on your knees. You’re silent. You can’t speak. Don’t know what to say if you were to open your mouth.

So you just hold the test.

JJ’s eyes follow your gaze to the test. His breath catching in the back of his throat.

You want to know how he feels, is he angry? Upset? Disappointed?

Actually he’s none of them.

“I’m going to be a dad?” He says excitedly. Immediately you look at him. Shocked by this response. He’s happy?

“Yeah.” You say quietly.

“I’m going to be a dad!” He says louder and takes off his hat before standing up. Pacing the bathroom and smiling. Yapping about all the things he’s going to do. How excited he is to have a child.

You should’ve never been worried. You’re going to be parents.

[evansbby]

𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 (𝑾𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, smut, mean Ari, condescending Ari, seriously he babies her so much in this, manipulative Ari, in fact just wg!Ari bc y'all know he's a warning in himself, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), cheating, lying, adultery, kind of public sex, sugar daddy vibes, dirty talk.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You skip class to attend Ari's basketball practice because he finally wants to hang out with you.

𝐀/𝐍: This is a drabble that takes place before the events of Wicked Games. You don't have to read that fic to understand this drabble! Enjoy! And shoutout to this anon for the idea for this drabble!

“Ari, you were so great!!!”

You can’t contain your excitement. You’ve spent the better part of the past hour sitting front row and watching Ari dominate during basketball practice. In fact, you’re so excited that you forget yourself, jumping into him and throwing your arms around his neck to give him the biggest hug. It doesn’t help that you’re genuinely so excited to see him. You haven’t spoken to him for an entire week and a half. But Ari had told you that he was going through the process of breaking up with Sharon, and that he needed some alone time to do that. He’d told you he’d contact you when he needed you, and that just so happened to be today! And of course, you’d jumped at the opportunity to see him play.

“Baby, relax,” Ari chuckles, not quite hugging you back. He looks around to see if anyone has seen you embrace him. The court was slowly emptying out, but a few people are still milling around, and so he simply pats your back before gently peeling you off of him, “I know you’re excited to see me but we gotta wait till we’re alone, don’t we?”

You pout, “I know, I know. But I thought you’d broken up with Sharon by now like how you said you would.”

Ari pauses before he shoots you his winning smile, chucking you under your chin like you’re a baby or something. “I have broken up with her, beautiful. But you don’t worry your little head about that, alright?”

“But–”

“No buts, baby. Let daddy handle his business, okay?” He grabs your shoulders and turns you around, patting your ass condescendingly, “In fact, why don’t you go sit in the bleachers and wait till I call you over?”

You frown, a part of you not appreciating how he’s lowkey dismissing you. “But I skipped class to be here for you, Ari. Just like you told me to.”

“I know that. And I’ll show you how appreciative I am for that later. But right now, there’s still people around, and we gotta lay low for a while, okay? You know daddy only wants what’s best for us.”

You’re about to open your mouth to argue some more, but when he squeezes your hip reassuringly, all your thoughts melt away. Oh, he was just so dreamy! You loved how in control he was, how he walked around like he owned everything and everyone. How he controlled you with such charm and ease. He really was just so manly and perfect! And things would be even more perfect once he made you his new girlfriend. Which would probably be any day now.

You sit in the bleachers and watch him talk to his teammates. A few cheerleaders are milling about – probably friends of Sharon, which was definitely why Ari didn’t want to be seen with you. It was understandable, but Ari had told you that him and Sharon had been having problems for a while now. He’d told you that they fought a lot and he didn’t want to be with her anymore, and vice-versa. He’d also told you that you were a baby and you didn’t have to worry about his relationship problems because babies like you couldn’t handle stuff like that and it was better if you just didn’t think at all.

So, that’s what you do. You try not to think. Sometimes, it’s easier that way.

After around fifteen minutes, the last person leaves the indoor court, and Ari closes and locks the door behind him, a mischievous grin on his face. You vaguely wonder why he has the key to the sports hall and who exactly put him in charge of locking up, but think better of bringing it up with him. Ari never really answered any of your questions properly anyways, and he also had a way of making you forget you’d even asked them in the first place.

“Hey, cutie,” he easily picks you up off the bench and into his arms, your tiny pink skirt riding upwards but he doesn’t care. In fact, he cups your butt cheeks lewdly, giving them a squeeze as he carries you down the steps towards the front benches, “I love your little outfit.”

You want to be mad at him for making you wait an extra fifteen minutes while he had ignored you, but your insides turn to mush at his compliment. You’d chosen your outfit especially for him, of course. Early on in your “relationship,” Ari had made it clear how he’d wanted you to dress for him. In cute, girly clothes – always revealing so he’d have something to look at while he played. And always short, so he’d have easy access once he had you all to himself.

And you loved dressing up for him. Today, you’d worn a cute light pink miniskirt and a white tank top with matching pink lacy trim. You’d gotten a few looks from the other guys on the basketball team – namely Curtis, who had even winked at you! But all of them paled in comparison to Ari – he was the biggest and sexiest and hottest man you’d ever known. And you were so glad that your outfit had impressed him.

“Thank you, I wore it just for you,” You beam up at him, winding your arms around his neck again to be as close to him as possible as he smirks and sits down on the bench, with you in his lap. “Although it’s not very nice how you ignored me the whole time I was here!”

“Aww, you’re such a little baby, aren’t you?” Ari coos, doing that thing where he starts babying you to the extreme. He even reaches up to pull your cheek condescendingly. “Little baby skipped her class to see me, huh?”

“Uh huh!”

“Well, you have my full attention now, sweetheart,” He fingers the material of your skirt, pushing it up even more to get a better look at your bare legs. “And of course I know you wore this for me, you always wear your slutty little outfits to impress me. I find it very cute, actually.”

He kisses the top of your nose while you squirm, embarrassed at how obvious your attempts at winning his favour are. It’s just, you can’t help it! He’s the hottest, most popular senior on campus and for some reason, he’s interested in plain, simple little you! You feel like you’re living in a fairytale sometimes.

You open your mouth to say something, but soon grow distracted by Ari as he slips the straps of your top down your shoulders. Then he dips his finger into your cleavage before tugging your top down. He licks his lips when your lacy pink bra is exposed, cupping your tits through the material and squeezing. Hard. It makes you wince, but you know better than to stop Ari while he’s fondling you. You’ve learnt that he likes to take his time with your body, exploring, kissing, caressing and touching each crevice. He especially loves your ass, and recently he’s been quite into your tits too.

Just the other night, he’d made you give him a strip tease. He’d sat on the edge of your bed, a can of beer in his hand from whatever party he’d stumbled out of before making his way to your dorm room in the early hours of the morning. “Strip for daddy, and maybe I’ll give you a reward,” he’d said, watching with dark, expectant eyes as you’d shyly slipped your PJ top off. “Slower, baby,” he’d commanded, before grabbing the front of your bra and yanking you into him with such force that your pretty bra had snapped completely, and your tits had spilled out. Immediately, he’d latched on to your nipple, sucking, nipping and biting for what seemed like hours. He’d even poured his beer all over your breasts, licking it off while he made you hump his thigh and cum over and over again till you’d cried like a little baby from the overstimulation.

Now, the memory makes you shiver as you watch Ari play with your tits, a look of unabashed lust on his face. Shyly, you bring your fingers up to card through his thick hair, smiling when he slightly leans into your touch.

“Are we gonna go back to your room tonight, Ari?” You ask him innocently, twirling a piece of his hair round your finger.

“Nah, I have somewhere to be later, baby. You know how it is.”

Your heart sinks and you pout, hoping he’d see your disappointment but he’s too busy fondling your body to notice. You’d never been to Ari’s room before – he’d told you never to go there. That if he wanted to see you, he’d call or text you himself. The furthest you’d gotten to was the inside of Ari’s car in the dead of the night when the roads were all empty. Apart from that, he always just came to your dorm room. In fact, you’d given him a spare key to make it easier for him to come and go as he pleased, hoping this would show him how serious you were about him.

Suddenly annoyed that he was going to ditch you tonight to go somewhere else, you untangle yourself from him and jump off his lap, a glimmer in your eye.

“I wanna play basketball!” You say, voice all sweet and twinkly. It wasn’t often that you ever got to tease him, and even rarer when you succeeded. But that didn’t mean you’d stop trying.

Ari looks unamused, “Get back on my lap.”

“No, I think I’m gonna play some basketball.” You muse, skipping away from him and hoping he chases you. You grab a basketball from nearby and dribble it gently, not wanting to ruin your nails, “Come play, daddy.”

Teasing Ari always went one of two ways. Often, he just wouldn’t have it, telling you that babies like you weren’t meant to tease, that you didn’t know how. He’d shut down your teasing instantly, telling you that he was the one who’d taught you everything you knew about sex and therefore he’d always be two steps ahead of you. Either that, or he’d just lose his patience and fuck you hard just to show you that you could never tease your daddy, that he’d always be in control.

But sometimes… Oh, sometimes he’d play along.

Now, he stands up to his full height (six foot six and a half, last time he’d let you measure him), and in two easy strides he’s on the shiny court floor next to you. You smile cutely up at him, dribbling the ball in front of his face. But a mere second later, he snatches it away from you before you’ve even realised what’s happened. Smirking, he spins it around on the tip of his pointer finger with ease, looking down at you cockily.

“You wanna play, huh? Fine. Let’s play.”

What follows is insanity. You’d thought he’d go easy on you, but he does the exact opposite. “Try and steal the ball from me,” he challenges, dribbling circles around you while you try to grab it from him. But you’re way too slow, and too small. Easily, he switches hands while dribbling, or he holds the ball over your head, making you jump for it. At one point, you do manage to get hold of the ball, but he slaps it out of your grasp so easily it’s laughable. Except the only one laughing is him, while you shoot him a sour look.

Your plan had been to be lithe and fast, trying to look sexy on the court as you dodged him each time he tried to grab you. But Ari’s got you all sweaty and bothered, running around the court and trying to catch up with him as if it’s a basketball bootcamp or something.

“C’mon, Miss ‘I wanna play basketball,’ try and shoot a basket,” Ari taunts you as if you’re one of his real-life opponents, throwing the ball at you not-so-lightly. You breathe hard and scowl at him before taking aim and doing your best imitation of a jump shot. But Ari, being the giant that he is, easily slaps the ball away before it even touches the rim of the basket. He doubles over in laughter, “Wow, princess. You really suck.”

“Don’t be mean!” You complain, trying to shoot again. “It’s ‘cause you’re in the way, you big giant! Move so I can see where I’m shooting!”

Ari rolls his eyes, not budging an inch, “It’s called guarding, genius.”

“I don’t care what it’s called! It’s not fair if I can’t see the basket!”

He shrugs, moving to the side. You smile, take aim and shoot. But of course, he easily swats the ball aside again, using his other hand to stifle his yawn while you gape at him.

Then, he decides it’s time to teach you how to do a layup shot, “Just take three running steps and jump to shoot.”

“Okay, Ari, thanks for the pointer!”

You take a deep breath, preparing to do just that. Except he shoves you the moment you start running. But even a light shove from someone as big as Ari has enough force that you fall over, ending up in a sorry heap on the shiny court floor, a dismayed look on your face as you stare at your broken nail.

Ari doubles over in laughter, as if he’s just performed the practical joke of the century. You pout, staring sadly at your poor nail. You’d just gotten this set done less than a week ago in anticipation that he’d notice and say something! You can’t help it when your lower lip juts outward even more, your eyes welling with tears.

“Aww, come on, don’t be such a baby,” Ari crouches down next to you, patting your head condescendingly, “It’s not my fault girls suck at basketball.”

“You’re a big fat cheater and a meanie!”

“And you’re the cutest little cry-baby,” he chuckles, pulling your cheek while you glare at him through your tears. Oh, why did he have to look so handsome, even with that cocky, shit-eating grin on his face? He wipes your tears with his thumb, amusement shining through his eyes, “See, that’s what happens when you try and act like a tease.”

You cross your arms over your chest, “I hate you.”

“For being a better basketball player?”

“No! For cheating and for being mean and for breaking my nail!” You sniffle, “I’m a girl, Ari, you’re supposed to go easy on me!”

“I was going easy on you.”

He bursts out laughing when you shoot him another glare. But what you don’t expect is him lifting you up. Easily, as if you’re as light as a feather, he hoists you on top of his shoulders. Fearfully, you hang on tight for dear life as he stands up to his full height, handing you the basketball in the process.

“Fine, if the baby wants special treatment, I guess that’s what you’ll get,” he says, walking over to the hoop till you’re face to face with it. “C’mon, baby. Shoot your shot. If you miss from up there, then I’ll have no faith left in you.”

Smiling through the remnants of your tears, you finally score a basket, letting out a delighted little yelp despite the fact that you’ve literally been hoisted up to eye level with the hoop. “I did it! I scored a point!”

Ari gently puts you down on your feet, before thinking better of it and hoisting you up again. This time, you wrap your legs around his waist while his hands rest firmly on your ass.

“You did,” he says softly, “You scored a point. Well done, baby.”

He kisses you, and the gentleness of it catches you by surprise. But it only lasts a second or two before he grows impatient. Then, his kisses grow more ravenous, biting at your lips and pushing his tongue past them. But even when it’s all fast and rugged, his kisses are still the best, they still make your head spin in the best way possible, make you want to make out with him forever if he’d let you.

He takes you back over to the benches, back to how you two were before the impromptu basketball match. But this time, he quickly slips your top off, till you’re straddling him in just your pink lacy bra and your tiny little skirt.

“You broke my nail, by the way,” you point out when he takes your hand and presses it against his hard crotch.

“Mm?” Surprisingly, Ari tears himself away from kissing and fondling you to take a look at your broken nail and scoff, “Just glue it back on or whatever.”

“That’s not how it works, Ari!”

He rolls his eyes, before getting his phone out of his pocket. You watch as he types away, not too sure what he’s doing. But you don’t have to wonder for long, when a second later, your own phone pings with a notification.

A. Levinson transferred $400 to your bank account.

“Oh my gosh, Ari! You shouldn’t have!” You squeal happily, inadvertently bouncing up and down in his lap and making him grunt and press his boner up against your butt. You hug him tightly, maybe deliberately pressing your chest against him. “Seriously, nails don’t cost this much to get done.”

He shrugs, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “Then go buy yourself something nice with whatever’s left.”

You definitely would! Oh, you loved how he took care of you! This wasn’t the first time Ari had sent you money casually on a whim. It’s how you’d found out that he was loaded – or his parents were. Like in the three weeks that you’d been hooking up with him, he’d surprised you with multiple gifts and gestures. Once he’d had a box of very expensive lingerie delivered to your room along with an intricate bouquet of pink roses. The lingerie had been pink too, and you loved how he knew it was your favourite colour.

He was also always calling you Ubers, and ordering food for you, and sending you exorbitant amounts of money whenever you mentioned having to get the bus to go into town or something normal like that. Once, you’d said you were going shopping with Wanda, and Ari had told you to take his credit card with you. You’d declined, obviously, but it made you giddy knowing how well you’d be taken care of once he made you his official girlfriend.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say sweetly. Feeling slightly devilish now, you get off his lap and sink down to your knees in front of him. Ari shoots you a cocky look, pressing the top of your head down as he pushes your hand past the waistband of his sweats. You lick your lips when your fingers encircle around his thick cock, pulling it out right there in the middle of the court.

You’d never given a blowjob before Ari, and he’d made sure to teach you how to do it to his exact liking. Now, he holds your hair out of the way so he can see your face as he shoves his dick past your lips. He always warned you that you had to maintain eye contact while you sucked his dick, that all good babies looked their daddy straight in the eye when getting their throat fucked. And you feel him get even harder, the act of stuffing his huge cock down your tiny throat making him hornier than ever.

“Good girl,” Ari breathes, petting your head condescendingly, “Such a good little girl for daddy. You take my cock so well, don’t you? Like your lips were made for sucking cock, fuck!”

You try to take him as deep as you possibly can, but he’s way too big and girthy for you to deep-throat him all the way. The first time you’d tried, you’d ended up gagging and crying and Ari had laughed at you and called you a baby and told you that you had to learn to be a better cocksucker if you wanted to keep him happy. You’d promised that you’d try, and he’d been all too happy to teach you, using those “lessons” as an excuse to get you on your knees in front of him as many times as he wanted.

Not that he ever needed an excuse. He knew as well as you did that Ari Levinson owned your body.

“You’re such a slutty little girl, sucking your daddy’s cock in the middle of the basketball court,” Ari whispers, his voice so gravelly yet velvety smooth at the same time, turning you on down to your core. “Is this why you were so desperate to see me, baby? You wanted my cock that badly, huh?”

He pulls your head back, and you gasp for breath before nodding desperately, “Y-Yeah, I think about you all the time!”

Ari smirks, “I know you do. You’re fucking obsessed with me, aren’t you?” He yanks your hair, making you nod your head up and down with your mouth stuffed with his cock once more. “And you look so fucking cute, baby. On your knees for your daddy like the obedient little girl you are.”

He thrusts into your mouth hard as fast, effectively fucking your face ruthlessly. He often got like that, rough and hard and rugged. He was just so strong, and you guessed that sometimes he just didn’t know his own strength. Like now, as he bobs your head up and down roughly on his thick length, like an iron rod jamming in and out of your mouth at top speed, getting your face all messy in the process – which he also loved.

From your peripheral, you see Ari’s phone vibrate and glow from where he’s kept it right next to him on the bench. And you don’t mean to invade his privacy, but it’s close enough that you can just about make out the text that appears on his screen.

Curtis: You still with your little fangirl? 😂😂😂

You pull off Ari’s dick with a pop, quickly wiping your mouth and frowning up at him.

“Fangirl?!”

Ari grabs his phone and reads the text quickly before setting it down again and smirking. He rubs your cheek softly while pumping his dick casually with his other hand.

“Classic Curtis. He probably meant to send that to Colin. You know Colin Shea, right baby? He and his band had a gig tonight, and he has literal fangirls who come watch his every show. That’s what Curtis was referring to.”

Oh. That made sense. Didn’t it?

You smile up at Ari sheepishly, “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions.”

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, instead yanking you up by the hair till you’re on your feet once more, standing between his legs while he looks at you and pumps his dick. Pulling you into his lap, his hands immediately go to your butt, kneading it and squeezing it like it’s a toy. You can feel his dick, hot and heavy and twitching against your stomach, and it makes you want to press your thighs together.

Ari seems to get the message, finally pushing his hand between your legs to give your poor, neglected pussy some attention.

“She missed me, huh?” Ari grins wolfishly, his fingers gliding up your soaking slit before he pinches your clit meanly. “Tell me how your little baby pussy missed her daddy.”

“Sh-She missed you!” You garble, playing along with his dirty talk as you rock against his hand, wanting him to push his fingers inside you, or rub you or do something to make you feel good too. You haven’t felt his expert touch in more than a week, and your body is desperate for the relief that only Ari Levinson could give you.

Instead, he grabs your hips, lifting you and lining your cunt up on top of his hard dick. Oh, he was going to fuck you! Right here in the bleachers of the basketball court! Thrill ripples through you at the thought of doing something so naughty, although you’re happy that he’d locked the doors and no one was able to come inside.

“How bad do you want my daddy dick?” He breathes, looking all casual as if he’s not as feral for you as you are for him. You envy how well he hides his desperation, how in control he always is. You wish you were like that, but sex was so new and exciting to you. He’d made you obsessed with his cock, he’d made you want him all the time, and you had zero patience when it came to fucking him and getting that sweet pleasure only he could give you.

“So, so bad, Ari! Please put it in me! Please!”

“I don’t know, baby,” He pretends to think about it, the cockiest smile on his face, “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”

“Please do it!”

Desperately, you grab at his cock but he easily slaps your hands away and shoots you a warning look.

“Beg me some more,” he orders you while pumping his dick lazily, “And I’ll think about it.”

You do. You beg him and you plead him. With Ari, your self-respect and dignity sometimes went out the window and you didn’t even care. When he’s got you all submissive and desperate, you’d do absolutely anything he asked of you. He’s got you right under his thumb and he knows it, and all you can do is cry like a baby, and whine for his cock. Tell him how badly you want it, how you’ve been craving him and missing him all week. How you always think about him, how you miss how full he made you feel the last time he fucked you. How he made you see stars behind your eyes with how skilled of a lover he was.

Ari smirks, praising you for being such a desperate little slut for him, and he’s about to sink you down on his dick when his phone starts vibrating again. This time, you don’t see the name that flashes on the screen, but you pout in dismay when he answers the call.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m with Curtis.”

You frown. Who was he talking to? One of his other friends?

“Tonight? Really?” Ari frowns, listening to whoever’s talking on the other end, “Yeah, that’s cool.”

He grunts, “Okay, I’ll be there when I’ll be there. I’m busy right now. Bye.”

He hangs up before focusing his attention back on you.

“Wh-Who was that, Ari?”

“No one.”

You bite your lip, “Was it Sharon? I thought you said you broke up with her?”

“We’re practically broken up,” he says vaguely before he starts kissing your neck. “You done asking questions?”

“I just think that– AH! OH FUCK!”

In one quick motion, Ari slams you down on his cock. Hard. You scream and grip on to his muscular biceps tightly, and he doesn’t give you even one second to adjust or catch your breath before he starts bouncing you up and down.

“Little girls like you aren’t meant to ask their daddies dumb questions,” he whispers silkily in your ear, forever casual and unperturbed as he fucks you hard, “So now the only think I want to hear coming out of your mouth is my name, got that?”

“Ngh, fuck! Y-Yes, daddy!”

“That’s my good little girl.”

AHHHH omg, first wicked games drabble done!! Poor reader, she has no idea the rollercoaster she's in for. I had forgotten how innocent and naive she was until I reread WG1 a few days ago, and that's why she's so innocent here! Ari really goes on to do a number on her lmfaooo (and Steve too). BUT ANYWAYS. Do let me know what you thought! Reblogs, comments, asks with feedback are all SOOOO welcome! This is around 4k words btw but I wrote it fairly quickly in a few hours! TYSM K I SHALL STOP YAPPING NOW BYE.

[moonstruckme]

spencer reid holding hands 4 the first time : ( 've been rewatching cm and i miss my boy sm : (( you're most recent peter fic is so sweet btw im absolutely obssessed!!!!! love you bunches

Thank you sweetheart <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 665 words

You and Spencer have had a very…tentative beginning to your relationship. Normally, when you think of a first date, you’re worried about how much the other person expects. (Will they want to kiss you? Will they want more? What if you don’t want to? How do you say no without making it awkward?) With Spencer, there’s been none of that. You’re on date three, and he’s kept completely to himself the entire time. When you met up earlier in the week he’d let a hand hover near your elbow when you nearly tripped over a curb, but you’d barely felt the whisper of his skin against yours before he was putting it back in his pocket, the danger having passed. 

You’ve always thought that you’d prefer to take things slow, and Spencer seems that way too, but now you’re itching for something more. Just something tangible to show that you like him, that he likes you too, that you’re not just going on these dates for no reason at all. 

So, bold thing that you are, you let your hand hang in the empty space between you as you walk. An offering. 

The first time Spencer’s knuckles brush across yours, knobby and skimming, he almost stops talking. He’s been saying something about Alexander Pope and Eliza Haywood (and you’re doing your best to follow along, honest), but he falters mid-sentence, his hand stuttering in its movement. 

“And, uh, actually,” Spencer goes on, getting his verbal feet back under him, “it was only in the late twentieth century that her works started surfacing in academia…” 

You nod along but don’t move your hand, letting Spencer’s graze past it again. This time, you lean into the touch, pushing your knuckles into his almost imperceptibly. And this time, Spencer’s hand doesn’t continue along its trajectory. He lets it rest alongside yours, your skin brushing up against each other’s with the movement of your walking. After a few seconds, his pinkie teases yours. 

You bite back a smile, crooking your pinkie so it hooks around his. Spencer moves his hand, and for a second your heart drops, but he’s only bringing it to the inside of yours, interlacing your fingers loosely. 

“Is this okay with you?” he asks, careful and to-the-point. 

“Yeah.” You look up at him sheepishly, wriggling your fingers in his to get them closer. “I’ve been wanting to do this.” 

“Me too,” Spencer says quietly. Your heart balloons until you’re sure it’s about to float off and take you with it. 

His palm is rougher than you’d expected. Spencer comes off as such an academic, sometimes you can forget that he’s in the literal FBI. He handles guns and had to go through training, and you can feel it in the light scratch of his calluses against your palm. Slender fingers stretch over your knuckles, deft and capable. His touch sends a pleasant tingling all the way up from your hand into your buzzing brain. 

“Sorry,” you say softly. 

Spencer looks confused. His thumb runs the length of yours, a thoughtless movement or a soothing touch, it doesn’t matter. If he does it again, you’ll puddle down onto the pavement for sure. 

“What are you sorry for?” he asks. 

“I sort of interrupted you.” 

A little smile teases the dimple in his cheek. “I don’t mind.” 

You give his hand a gentle tug, feeling brazen. It cracks something open in him, and his smile comes out for real, the familiarity between you suddenly so natural. 

“Tell me about Eliza Haywood,” you urge. “Did Pope just hate her because she was a woman?” 

“That was definitely a big part of it,” Spencer allows, and his voice seems to go back into the conversation while his face stays somewhere else. He’s still wearing that smile, eyes squinted just slightly like he’s having some trouble figuring you out and it might be his new favorite game. “But also it had a lot to do with the perception of novels…”

[penkura]

Christmas Decorations

Summary: Law never decorates his office for the holidays, so you take it upon yourself to do so, without his knowing.

Note: I give you some fluffy Law content before the angsty bit next week. :)

You’re very sneaky when you want to be, much to Law’s annoyance when it comes to special days. You’ll hide yourself behind the door of his office and throw yourself on him when he comes in, yelling ‘happy birthday’ or whatever else might be happening that day. He really does try not to push you off, with his face bright red from the affection, but he does wish you would settle down at times. You’re more excited during holidays than he’s used to, but Law has come to enjoy your reactions to all of it.

It makes him remember the times he had with his family, he’d never take away your joy at decorating the sub as long as you stayed out of his office.

Though, you’re not very good at listening sometimes, and Law should really learn to expect you to sneak in like you’ve done today, box of decorations in hand and Bepo keeping watch. You swear Law acts like a grinch at Christmas, even though he’s never rejected your own desires, he seems to shy away from celebrating with the whole crew. You realize it’s likely from the loss of his family and Corazon, but still wish he’d join you all more.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Bepo is highly concerned and nervous that Law is going to show up and reprimand you both, but you just shrug and go back to decorating his office.

“It’ll be fine! If he asks, put it all on me, he can’t be mad at me for too long.”

“I didn’t think Captain ever got mad at you anyway.”

“Me and you, Bepo, Law never gets mad at us.”

While Bepo still worries and watches out the door, you quickly work to put up all the Christmas decorations you’d bought just for Law’s office. A few ornaments that you hang on the wall and bookcases, a small garland across his desk, you thought about some fake snow but knew Law would make you clean it so you scrapped that idea. You keep it simple, trying to finish quickly before Law returns or Bepo gets too nervous while watching.

He’s going to know it was you who did this, but you hate seeing his office so plain and normal during the holidays.

“Okay,” you hang one more ornament off the garland with a nod to yourself, “That should be good.”

“Oh really now?”

That’s not Bepo’s voice, you know this very well, freezing up and not saying another word. Maybe if you stay still long enough he’ll leave, Law will forget you’re there, he definitely hasn’t caught you decorating his office secretly. He’s not there, it’s your imagination! Maybe it’s just Penguin or Shachi messing with you, that has to be it.

“Care to explain yourself?”

You bite your lip trying to think of a good explanation, knowing Law wants to hear one, but nothing comes to mind. You have no good excuse or anything, even when Law says your name to get your attention, though he does it with a sigh.

“…you didn’t have to sneak in to do this, you know.”

“You would’ve let me if I asked?”

“…probably not.”

That makes you pout a bit, but Law comes up behind you and gives you a hug, pulling you against him with a kiss to the top of your head.

“But I would’ve considered it, since it would be you asking.”

“…yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You lean back against him and nod, knowing that’s the truth, Law would have thought about it before he said no. He did the same when you first told him your feelings for him, though that turned out positively, he just needs some time to think things through, see if it’s what he wants too.

If you had asked he likely would have agreed to a few decorations like what you’ve done, nothing extravagant. Just a bit here and there for some holiday cheer in his office, that would he acceptable.

“I’ll take them down, I know you—”

“No, just leave them,” while you turn around to hug him back, Law gently pats your hair and looks around at what you’ve done with a slight smile, “It looks nice, thank you.”

You give him a bright grin before leaning up and kissing him, only stopping when you remember something.

“How did you get in here without me knowing? I had Bepo watching!”

“…did you forget about my powers? I needed something and—”

“You used Room to just bypass Bepo…”

“I didn’t even know he was standing guard for you. He’s probably asleep by now.”

Sighing, you nod and start to pull away from Law.

“Guess I owe him a treat now, he did his job.”

“Stop bribing him into your schemes.”

“Can’t promise that, Captain~”

[soobnny]

classmate au | lee heeseung

❝ hey, i’ll go ahead. i have to walk (name) home. ❞

HEESEUNG | jay | jake | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | ni-ki

look…. i know this says classmate au

BUT but but but hear me out

he’s your senior

maybe a year or two years older

AND he’s your neighbor, next door neighbor lee heeseung

do you see where i’m going with this

he walks you home to school every morning and every after class

your parents r also pretty close so you’re always hanging by each other’s house

THO he’s more of like an unattainable senior so handsome 😞😞 yall dont talk much when you’re having that little family get together

he tries talking to u tho … but you run away pretty fast

it’s always that awkward sitting beside each other while your parents talk to each other

…. awkward eye contact

SO YEAH he walks you to school every morning and after class by your mom’s request

heeseung always walks by the side of the road like the gentleman he is

will pull you by the waist when you attempt to even walk on that side so he can switch you two

and always waits for you outside your class or by the student council office to walk you home

sometimes 💔💔💔💔 during basketball practice … he does that thing where he goes home ahead so he can walk u home

the moment you walk into the basketball gym, wide eyes searching for heeseung ?!

he’s already dismissing himself .. saying goodbye to his friends and the couch and slinging your bag on his shoulder

you think he only views you as a little sister this SUCKS !!!!!

ah you are so wrong.

oh also lee heeseung student athlete and face of the school, just thought i’d mention

sometimes, he even appears in your classes to assist the teacher like what CAN’T he do

the teacher encounters some tech difficulties with the powerpoint???

“hey (name), can you call heeseung?”

you quietly slip out of the classroom and hurry to his

(he gave you his class schedule in case you ever needed anything… so you know where to find him…)

“excuse me, mr. hwang is looking for heeseung?” you’d tell the teacher

and their whole class would burst into SCREAMS and teasing as heeseung is pushed towards the door

“hey, you okay? how was your day?” he’d always catch up with you in that small time

dear god please have mercy.

he’d have a hand on the small of your waist to guide you along the hallways too

AND TUTORING

Lee Heeseung who is naturally good at everything is also smart

he tutors you at his house after class when you’re having a hard time

as a reward, sometimes, you guys would play video games

you ended up falling asleep at his house once and heeseung had to tell his mom to call yours so she wouldn’t worry

you wake up to blankets draped all over you and heeseung sleeping on the floor i’m so sad

karaoke is always fun in these family outings bc your family always makes you sing duets

atp you guys have every disney and broadway duets DOWN and memorized

though it does make you blush and all giggly when he makes intense eye contact while seeing to you

“now she’s here, shining in the starlight. now she’s here, suddenly i know. if she’s here, it’s crystal clear, i’m where i’m meant to go.”

he is a fantastic singer and he makes you forget to sing your parts sometimes

ALWAYS ENDS A SONG IN A HUG while your parents violently clap in the background

during the sports festival, the teachers ltrly let him join all the sports and he just accepts 😭😭

if he’s not playing, he’s facilitating

“do you have an event for this year’s sports festival?” he’d ask one night as he’s walking you home

“oh no. i’m just joining the cheer contest with sunoo on the first day.”

“do you think you could cheer for me?”

HE’S ASKING YOU TO CHEER FOR HIM

of course you say yes

and his eyes are on you in every sport he plays

basketball… volleyball… badminton… you name them all!

he’d look to you before serving the ball and point at you when he shoots a ball in bkb

heeseung would win every game for you

because the thrill in your smile is too wide to disappoint

and also because he has a big fat crush on you

goes to hug you after every game

“my good luck charm” as he liked to call you

BYEEEEEE bye leave me alone please

you’re HIS good luck charm

you pretend to be annoyed because he’s sweating so he teases you by hugging you even more

he lets you hold his spare shirt AND lets you wear his spare jersey ……

by the end of the week, he wins a shit ton of medals and a trophy for being the MVP

lets you wear some of his medals 😭😭 honestly maybe even all of them

would come to you after the awarding and take off his medals to put it around your neck too

OBLIGATORY SPORTS FESTIVAL PICTURE WITH YOUR CRUSH

you guys hold the trophy together … he has an arm around you … like he ltrly has the poses thought out already

asks you to be his girlfriend on the walk back home

handcrafted you a medal already in case you’ll say yes

engraved on it is “best girlfriend”

damn you’ve only been together like a few hours and he already awarded you best girlfriend

honestly congratulations

you bagged face of the school and student athlete senior lee heeseung

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! i just thought it looked rly cute and coherent. let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[matchpointfaist]

tis the damn season ; art donaldson

cw; drinking, smut!!, art and reader are really kinda pathetic <3

if i wanted to know who you were hanging with

while i was gone i would have asked you

it's the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass

but i felt it when i passed you 

there’s an ache in you put there by the ache in me 

but if it’s all the same to you, it’s the same to me

five years ago

“hey, stranger,” you can practically hear art’s smile through the phone, “how was your day?” you roll onto your back, phone clutched in your hand like a vice, “it was alright. just cramming for finals,” you sigh softly, “hows stanford?” “god, it’s incredible,” he laughs, “i wish you were here. you’d love it, baby. it’s like a movie,” you hum in response, ignoring the ache in your chest that had made its home there the day he flew out, “how’s training going? do you have any matches soon?” “oh, it’s great!” there’s that smile again, “i’ve got a match tomorrow, actually, so i should probably go soon. it’s at 7 am,” 

“that’s good,” you smile to yourself, “do you feel good about it?” “yeah, i think so. coach says i’m gearing up to do really well this season,” he says proudly, and your chest aches again at the thought of missing it. “i’m sure you will,” you try to keep your voice even, “well i’ll let you get some sleep, i love you,” “love you more,” he murmurs, “goodnight, baby,” 

art texts you the next morning to inform you he ‘killed’ his match, attaching a poorly taken photo of him grinning ear to ear, gold metal ribbon around his neck. it’s little crumbs like this that keep you sane, keep you feeling close to him, ever since he left. ‘knew you’d win! you’re so cute. call later?’ you reply, your cheeks pink as if you’re texting a crush rather than your boyfriend of two years. ‘course i will’ he replies, and you’re already counting down the minutes until the nighttime routine you’d grown accustomed to. 

at nine oclock, you lay across your dorm bed, eyes practically glued to your phone screen as you wait on art’s nightly call. by nine thirty, you’re mildly annoyed, and by ten, you’re worried. you pick up the phone, pressing call on his contact, biting the inside of your cheek as you listen to the phone ring. he picks up after a moment, the music in the background nearly drowning out his voice, “hello?” 

“hey,” you try your hardest not to let your irritation bleed into your tone, “did you forget to call?” “fuck, baby. i’m so sorry,” you hear shuffling, and the music gets slightly quieter, “patrick invited me to this party since we won this morning, it totally slipped my mind,” “it’s fine,” you tell him slightly too quickly, “just have fun, kay? i’ll talk to you tomorrow,” “wait- are you sure?” he sounds confused, and you wonder if its the alcohol or the change in your tone that’s thrown him off. 

“yeah, of course,” you hope your voice sounds as light as you intend it to, “we can talk tomorrow night, it’s okay. have fun,” “okay, i guess,” he sounds so hesitant you start to think he might just leave the party, “well goodnight then. i love you,” “night. love you too,” you hang up before you can talk yourself into begging him to stay on the phone. the next night, he calls at six oclock sharp, and you can tell the entire phone call that he’s eager not to upset you. 

he’d always been that way. he’d do something, just one tiny mistake, and spend days apologizing or being extra sweet to fix it. you’d lost count over the years of just how many grand gestures he’d made, of how many times he’d professed his love for you for no reason other than to get back in your good graces; not that he’d ever left. 

you and art were cheesily in love, so high school in the way that you couldn’t keep your hands off of eachother, couldn’t go a day without speaking. you were practically sewn at the hip from sophomore to senior year, even applying to colleges together. when he got his offer from the stanford athletics department, you didn’t think much of it. he seemed flattered, of course, but you never thought he’d actually go. 

he loved boston, he loved his family, he loved you, so it made no sense when he came over one afternoon, admission letter in hand, and a wide smile on his lips. “i accepted their offer!” he’d told you, ever so proud, “they gave me basically a full ride, as long as i stay on the team and keep my grades up. can you believe that?” 

you could believe it, of course. everyone knew how wildly talented art was, from such a young age. he’d started playing tennis at his parents country club when he was just a kid, and eventually worked his way up to attending a tennis academy not far from your high school. he had promise, drive, ambition, and a naivety just subtle enough to make him an excellent candidate to be pushed too far by coaches. 

you’d known, then, that things would change between you. everyone told you nothing would happen, you two were meant to be, but you could feel it. he’d be across the country, practicing incessantly, playing matches, attending parties thrown by teammates you’d never meet. and you’d be home, working for a degree that might help you make a name for yourself. 

over the course of a few months after that party, the calls grew less and less frequent. by summer, you were lucky to hear from art more than once a week. you knew he was busy, of course, and tried to ignore the way bitterness coated your tongue with every word you said to him on your brief calls. you tried to ignore the way he talked about all the friends he’d made, friends that you didn’t know at all, and tried to ignore the way he barely sent you photos anymore.

the one thing getting you through was the promise of summer break with art. two short months together, to pretend everything was back to normal, that you weren’t living completely separate lives. you woke up at six am sharp the day of his flight home, eagerness keeping you from sleep, and picked up your phone to call and see when he’d be landing. he answered after four rings, his voice raspy from sleep, “hello?” 

“good morning!” you replied cheerily, “when’s your flight?” “oh, hey baby,” you heard some shuffling before he returned to the phone, “uhm, i actually was just gonna call you about that,” “is everything okay?” your cheery tone slipped, dread festering in your stomach before you could even place why. “yeah, of course. i just meant to tell you, coach wants me to do some training over the summer. he thought it would be best if i stayed here, just for this first year, for some extra drills and stuff,” 

you sat silently, tears pricking your eyes, as you listened to his excuse. “so what, then? you’ll be home for a month shorter, or?” “i won’t be able to make it home at all this year, honey. i’m so sorry, but you can come stay with me, yeah? i’ll buy your ticket, it’ll be just like we planned,” your heart broke even further at how optimistic he sounded, as if he hadn’t just shattered your expectations of the summer, of your reunion. “i have work, art,” you said quietly, “you know that. i have to make up for being off through the school year,” 

“you don’t need that job, baby. come on, come see me,” “no, art!” you argued, your brows pinched in frustration, “i do need this job, actually. some of us don’t have trust funds, believe it or not. jesus,” your words came out sharper than you intended, all the hurt and anger from the last several months finally revealing itself. “i’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “this is really important to me. this is my shot, yknow? i can’t mess this up,”

“yeah,” your voice was bitter, but you truly did understand, “i get it. stay there, it’s for the best,” “i’ll come home next summer, okay? it won’t be like this every year,” he sounded like he was pleading with you, and it took all your control not to snap at the irony of it. “art, i think it’s best we don’t keep trying to make this work. you need to focus on your tennis and school and i need to focus on mine, and let’s just call it even, okay? we had a really good run,” 

“a good run?” he repeated incredulously, “are you trying to break up with me?” “i am, yeah,” you hoped you sounded confident in your answer, “i just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to draw this out any longer than we need to,” “what the fuck? where is this coming from? is this about the summer?” he sounded so genuinely confused, so lost, and it only angered you further. “it’s just not working, art. everyone warned us long distance wasn’t a good idea,” 

“baby, please,” he was practically begging, a slight whine in his voice that you knew all too well. “no, i’m sorry, okay? but it’s done,” “you can’t just-” “bye, art,” you hung up before you could talk yourself out of it, letting yourself cry as hard as you’d wanted to for months now. you curled up in bed, sobs wracking your body, and mourned the relationship with a boy you’d once thought you’d marry. 

you thought he’d text or call, tried to prepare yourself to reject him again, but the contact never came. he listened, for once. art donaldson had completely slipped out of your life, without a trace.

three years later, you graduated top of your class, landed your dream job in journalism, and moved to an apartment in the city. you tried your best not to keep up with art’s achievements, but it was difficult when he won nearly ever tournament he stepped foot into. he made all the sports headlines, and you turned your head at each of them, hoping to convince yourself you never even knew him. 

i parked my car right between the methodist 

and the school that used to be ours

the holidays linger like a bad perfume 

you can run, but only so far

i escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave

but if that’s okay with you, it’s okay with me

current

you returned home for the holidays, driving down from the inner city to your parents home on the outskirts of boston. about three miles out, you’re lost in thought, music playing through your speakers and snow dusting your windshield. you’re jolted when you hit a deep pothole, cursing under your breath when your tire pressure light kicks on. 

you pull over into the closest parking lot, grabbing your coat and stepping out of the car to survey the damage. “fuck me,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration when you see the tire’s gone flat. you’re in the middle of trying to pry your spare out of the trunk when headlights illuminate the area around you, and you hear a car crunching over the snow. 

“you alright, miss?” a man calls, his voice sharp in your ears against the quiet of the evening. “just got a flat, i’m taking care of it,” you reply, not bothering to look back over your shoulder as you yank your spare free finally. “it isn’t safe to drive on a spare in this weather,” he tells you, and the slight crack of his tone raises the hair on your arms, the familiarity seeping through you deeper than the cold breeze. 

you turn, finally facing the stranger, your breath in your throat. there he stands, his blonde hair peeking out underneath the hood of his puffer coat, his cheeks tinged pink from the wind. “art?” you exhale, your heart suddenly racing in your chest, “what are you doing here?”

“oh,” he looks as startled as you feel, his blue eyes widening ever so slightly, “i was just passing by on my way to my parent’s, i saw a car and thought you’d need help,” “i’ve got it,” you say too quickly, “i’ll call my dad to pick me up, don’t worry about it. thanks, though,” 

“i can take you,” he offers, gesturing to his car parked just feet away, still running, “it’s on the way, anyway. i don’t mind,” “i think i’ll just call my dad,” you argue, “you can go, okay? i got this-” “please just let me take you home,” his tone sounds like you’d be doing him a favor, not the other way around, “come on, i’ll help you get your stuff, i’ll fix your tire tomorrow,”

you never could say no to his puppy dog eyes, even after all these years. so there you sit, shivering in art’s too nice car, trying not to look at him as he drives you home like he had so many times before. “it’s good to see you,” he says finally, breaking the silence, and you hum in response, unable to muster up any real conversation. 

“i moved back,” he says after a few more minutes as he turns the corner to a main road, “i don’t live here, but it’s not far. i live in the city near the university,” “congratulations,” you mumble, trying to keep your tone dismissive, anything to lessen the nostalgia you’re surely both feeling. 

“hey,” he sounds as if he’s pleading, and you allow yourself one glance to his side of the car, taking in the way he’s biting the inside of his cheek, the sadness in his eyes. “yes?” “i just wanted to say it’s good to see you,” he says softly, “i mean, what’re the odds, yknow? we’re both back home and i just happened to see you. it’s like fate,” 

“yeah,” you agree quietly, “fate, sure,”

so we could call it even

you could call me babe for the weekend

'tis the damn season, write this down

i'm stayin' at my parents' house

and the road not taken looks real good now

and it always leads to you in my hometown

he pulls into your parent’s drive, keeping the car running but leaning back in his seat to look over at you. “you look good,” he says after a moment, “not that you looked bad before, obviously, it’s just, you’re beautiful-” “shut up, art,” you cut off his rambling, “it was sweet of you to drive me, but thats all this was, okay? this isn’t fate. it’s just a coincidence,” 

“even if it is just a coincidence, i’m still happy to see you,” he says quietly, “is that not okay? i missed you,” “shut up,” you repeat, “you didn’t miss me, that’s- this whole thing is ridiculous, okay? enjoy your holiday, art,” “wait! can’t we just talk? i mean, even if its not tonight, we could catch up,” he pleads, eyes wide and borderline frantic. you shake your head, opening your door and pausing to glance back at him, “merry christmas, art. please don’t call,” you go inside trying your best to pretend nothing happened, dodging questions about the car in the driveway and greeting your family. the look on art’s face as you closed the car door keeps you from any real christmas spirit. 

you wake the next morning to a text from an unsaved number, your brows furrowed as you open the notification. ‘i know you said you don’t wanna hear from me, but i just wanted to say i’m sorry and it was really nice to see you. wanted to give you a fair warning, your parents invited my family to their christmas party tonight.’

you groan, tossing your phone on the bed and getting in the shower, ignoring the butterflies nerves, in your stomach at the idea of seeing art that night. by six that evening, you’re slightly tipsy off of spiked eggnog, trying your best to ignore him from across the room. he’s there, blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes and a stupid christmas sweater that reminds you far too much of the first holiday you spent together. 

you hate the way he mingles with your family so easily, like nothing ever happened. the way he laughs at your dads jokes, the way he’s sipping wine with class he must’ve learned at stanford. the way he keeps looking your way, smiling tenderly, the way he eventually approaches you with all the hesitation of a high school crush. 

“you look beautiful,” is the first thing he says to you, sounding almost pained by it. “thank you,” you hope you sound cordial, hope he doesn’t pick up on the way your hands shake around your glass, the way your cheeks are already pink. you tell yourself it’s the alcohol and not the scent of the cologne he’d been wearing all those years ago, the last time you’d seen him. 

he looks around, gesturing to the decorations, “good party,” “we don’t have to do this small talk shit,” you say after a moment, “it’s in the past, alright? let’s just get through the party and we’ll all go back to normal,” “don’t you see i don’t just want to get through the party? i’m trying to talk to you here, okay? i missed you, i just wanna catch up,” the pleading is back in his tone, accompanied by his trademark puppy dog eyes, and you find yourself following him onto your parent’s balcony with no hint of the hesitation you’d been full of earlier in the night. 

“i saw you on tv,” he tells you after a few minutes of small talk, sipping his drink and glancing at you, the wind rustling his too perfect hair. “yeah?” you smile ever so slightly, “what for?” “it was a news station, i saw it at the airport. you were reporting on the protests in new york,” he smiles back, and your chest aches at the sight. “i’m not usually on tv, i just write the stories, but it was cool. glad to know it’s getting good airport coverage,” you joke, “i’ve seen you on tv a few times myself. wimbledon and all,” 

“yeah?” his smile widens, “and what’d you think?” you pause, and you’re not sure if its the eggnog, the nostalgia, or his vulnerable expression, but you find yourself being honest. “i thought you were incredible,” you say softly, “the way you play is just amazing, art. always has been,” “thank you,” you choose to ignore the crack in his voice, “you have no idea how much that means, to hear you say that. that you still even think that,” 

“congratulations,” you smile around the rim of your glass, “you’ve won every competition i’ve even heard of. that’s a big deal,” “none of that matters,” he waves a dismissive hand, “i don’t wanna talk about tennis. i wanna hear about you,” “my life is pretty boring,” you shrug, “i write columns and go home and think about work. that’s really all,” “you’re not- are you seeing someone? i figured you’d be married or something,” 

“no,” you laugh like its ridiculous, because truthfully, it is. you’d loved him so much that it made the idea of trying to love someone else seem pointless. in the back of your mind, you’d always thought you needed to let it go, to move on, but you never found the time or the willpower. forgetting him and learning someone else was a move you were never prepared to make. “me neither,” his voice snaps you from your thoughts, “not since-”

“i’m sorry i broke up with you,” you blurt out, “it was shitty of me to do it over the phone like that, and i’m sorry,” “oh,” he blinks, looking slightly caught off guard, “no, i mean, it was my fault. i get it, looking back. i’m sorry i didn’t fight harder,” “you were a really good boyfriend,” you say quietly, blinking away hot tears, “like, the perfect boyfriend. it was just too much, being away from you, and i felt like it was just a matter of time before it ended anyway,”

“i never planned on leaving you,” he says softly, “i hope you know that. i loved you more than anything in the world, and i know we were just kids, but i really, really fucking loved you. more than tennis, more than stanford, more than any of that shit. i didn’t care about my future if you weren’t in it, but then you removed yourself from it and i figured i could at least just keep going,” 

“i know,” you nod, because you genuinely do know. you know he loved you, how much he cared about your relationship. a moment passes, and you can feel his eyes on you, your heart picking up and a fresh flush prickling your skin. “you are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and before you can think better of your decision, you’ve set your drink down and turned to him, all your logic gone out the window. 

“this is a bad idea,” you tell him, but you’ve already taken a step closer, “and i’m only in town for a bit,” another step, “but i missed you so fucking much, art,” “come show me how much you missed me,” he smiles, his eyes almost as dark as the sky around you, “let’s make up for lost time, yeah?”

you kiss him in an instant, and everything else seems to fall away as you feel his lips on yours for the first time in years. he tastes like sparkling wine and chapstick and everything you love about the holidays, about home. he kisses you with the same desperation he’d always had back then, his hands digging into your hips and pulling you flush against him. 

the reality of the evening starts to sink back in as hands progress lower, and you pull away, panting softly against his lips, “cant fuck you in my parents house,” “aw, come on, it’ll be just like old times,” he murmurs teasingly, trailing his lips down your neck. “art,” you whine, “we can’t,” “they’re all busy with the party,” he murmurs as he nips below your ear gently, “do you want me to stop?” “no,” you answer easily, “let’s just- can we go to my room? someone’s gonna see us out here,”

you end up in your old bedroom, sprawled out on the comforter kissing art with a feverish desperation. “missed you so fucking much,” he groans as you unbutton his pants, slipping your hand into his boxers, “god, thought about you all the time,” “yeah?” you smile against his lips, “thought about me all the way in california?” “fuck- yeah, i did,” he bucks his hips into your hand, his cheeks pink, “everyday, every night,”

you hum, satisfied, trailing your kisses down his chest and sliding down the bed, “where you going?” he asks, his brows furrowed. “you don’t want my mouth?” you ask, gazing up at him as you push his boxers down, “no,” he smiles hazily, “no, baby. missed you too much for that, just c’mere. let me fuck you,”

you nearly cry at that, the warmth flooding your chest at his words despite the overall nature of what the two of you are doing. you kiss him again, leaned over him, and he pulls you up into his lap, scooting up to prop himself up against the headboard. 

“come here,” he mumbles between kisses, positioning your legs to straddle him, “do you wanna do this?” “‘course i wanna do this,” you nod, and he pushes the skirt over your dress up around your hips, running his thumb over the skin, “you’re so beautiful,”

“stop lookin at me like that,” you mumble, feeling entirely too entranced by the expression on his face, “kiss me,” he’s nothing if not obedient, his lips on yours immediately, kissing you with fervor. you reach between the two of you, sitting up briefly to toss your underwear somewhere, wrapping your hand around him once more to line him up. “god,” he groans softly, tipping his head back as you slide down on his cock, your eyes closed in bliss, “fuck, you’re so wet, god,”

you bury your face in his neck, trying your best to be quiet as you adjust to his size, rocking your hips slowly, “art,” you moan breathlessly, and before you know it he’s cradling your head, pulling you in closer and fucking up into you. you bite down on his shoulder gently, hoping to suppress the noises leaving you, “god, not gonna last,” he all but whimpers, “you feel so fucking good,”

you just moan in response as he hits all the right spots, your thighs shaking slightly as he fucks you, “fuck, baby- oh my fucking god,” he groans, pulling you off of him gently, “didn’t wanna finish inside you,” he pants, eyes closed as he steadies his breathing, “let me,” you say softly, taking him in your mouth, moaning around him at the taste of yourself on his skin. 

“oh, fuck me,” he moans, hands tightening in your hair and bucking his hips slightly. he’s filling your mouth soon after, your name falling from his lips like a curse as he cums down your throat, panting and whining hoarsely. you wipe your mouth, sitting up to kiss him again, surprised when he pulls you up closer. “sit on my face,” he mumbles against your lips, “let me make you cum, please,” 

“i’m okay,” you start to argue, but he’s shaking his head, looking at you with the sweetest expression, “just let me make you feel good,” you let him lead you, as he lays back on the bed and pulls you up onto him, your thighs on either side of his head. 

he laps at you desperately, and you have to clutch the headboard to keep from collapsing against him as you rock your hips, borderline grinding against his mouth. “art,” you moan, one hand on the headboard and one in his hair, “fuck, you’re so good,”

this only encourages him, and he slides a hand under you, pushing gently on your hips to make you rock against his face once more. you whimper at that, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as you feel yourself getting closer. “art,” you gasp, “gonna-“ 

your vision is spotty as you come undone, his needy mouth never slowing as he works you through it, sucking at your clit until your legs nearly give out. “too much,” you whine, pulling at his hair to deter him. he hums against you, licking one last, slow stripe against you before helping you down, looking up at you with dilated pupils and a spit-slick mouth. 

you wipe his face gently with your duvet, smiling slightly down at him, “that was-“ “you were so good,” he praises, “can’t believe how much i missed that,” he pulls the blanket over your legs, and your chest aches at the tenderness of the action. “you shouldn’t stay,” you say softly, hoping it doesn’t come across as hurtful, “i don’t want my parents to see, yknow,” 

“yeah,” he nods, but he looks slightly hurt, like he’s taken aback, “yeah, good point. i’ll call you?” “yes, please,” you nod, watching as he pulls his clothes back on, “i’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?” “yeah,” he nods, fastening his belt, “uh, goodnight, then,” “night, art,” you smile sleepily, and he lets himself out without returning a smile of his own.

time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

now i’m missing your smile, hear me out

we could just ride around 

and the road not taken looks really good now

and it always leads to you in my hometown

the next day, you send him a quick text, slightly worried he’d thought you’d just dismissed him. ‘wanna get coffee today? i leave tomorrow’ 

‘sure’ he replies, and you’re sure then that he’s hurt, but you hope to rectify it, ‘great! starbucks on third at eleven?’ ‘okay. see you there’ he sends back, and you pull on a sweater and leggings, going to spend some time with your parents before heading out to the coffee shop. 

he’s sitting in a window seat when you arrive, much more casual than he had been the night before. he’s in a stanford hoodie and joggers, and you think of him away at college, how at home he’d probably been there. you shake the thought away, walking over to his table, “hey,” you smile, sliding into the booth across him. “hey,” he smiles slightly, “so you leave tomorrow?”

“oh, yeah,” you nod, “gotta get back to work. how long are you in town for?” “told you i moved back,” he says, looking slightly irritated, and you feel a pang of guilt, “yeah, sorry, it completely slipped my mind. so you’re just-“ “what is this, exactly?” he cuts you off, brows furrowed, “i mean, im glad last night happened, but is that just it? you’re gonna shoo me away and go home like nothing happened?” 

“what?” you falter, caught off guard, “art, no, i just have to go back home, it’s not like i’m discarding you,” “you sure are acting like it,” he grumbles, “what, then? are we gonna try and make this work?” “make this work?” you repeat, “what, exactly? i figured it was just because we’re both back home, i don’t-“ “what? so what, then, just a one time thing? that’s kinda fucked up to not tell someone,” he snaps, and you hate yourself in the moment, all the memories of the way you’d been so short when you’d broken up with him resurfacing. 

“maybe it’s better if it’s just for the weekend,” you say quietly, “i mean, we’re both busy, and this was just by chance,” “bullshit,” he shakes his head, “if you don’t wanna be with me, that’s fine. alright? genuinely, no hard feelings. but don’t give me that ‘we’re both busy shit. what’s the real reason you won’t try again?” 

“we both are busy,” you say defensively, “i just don’t- i’d hate for either of us to get hurt again, that’s all,” “i get it, i do, but we’ll never know if we don’t try,” he says softly, “i never wanted to hurt you before, okay? i’ve pictured so many routes for my life and you were always in them,” “we’re different people now, art,” you say carefully, trying to keep your tone even, “you don’t know if we’re still even compatible, and we never know what could happen,” “will you stop doing that? you don’t have to be so calculated about everything. it’s not gonna kill us to try, right? we’ve changed, sure, and we’re at different places in life, but we’re the same people. we’re still the people we were when we were in love,” 

“that was a long time ago,” you say quietly, tears pricking your eyes, “i just don’t wanna make a mistake and get us both hurt,” “i’m fine with being hurt by you. don’t you see that? i have loved you since we were sixteen years old. we can get to know each other again, we can take it slow, i’m not asking you to marry me here. just give it a chance, please?” the sincerity in his tone breaks you, and you’re nodding before you can talk yourself out of it. “yeah,” you sniffle, “yeah, i’d like that so much. i’m sorry, i’m just scared, and i didn’t think we’d ever get another chance,” you ramble. “i know you’re scared,” he says softly, taking your hand in his over the table, “we’re gonna take it slow, alright? we’ll be alright,” “yeah,” you nod, tracing his knuckles with your thumb, “we’ll be alright,” 

[httpscomexe]

Ensnared 2

Summary: You finally get your room, but a little jealousy check leaves you ending up in Logan's room instead.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Yandere!Logan Howlett x PlusSize!Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Blood, violence, jealousy, injuries, Y/N faints around blood, a little comfort, sixth sense, foul language, separate POV, chapters 3 and further WILL include non-con aspects. Logan is an official warning as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Let me know if I missed anything. Thank you.

Tags: @sammyluvsfics

Word Count: 4099 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 3

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Logans POV

“Hey, watch it-” His voice broke off as soon as his eyes found her, and he immediately calmed down, his hands now gripping her shoulders more carefully as he held her steady.

“I’m so sorry.” She apologised, taking a step back as he reluctantly let go of her. “Where can I find Xavier?” His ears don’t listen to her voice, instead his eyes are watching the way her lips move as she speaks.

He lets go of her. “He’s probably still in his office.” Her eyes softened, and she seemed to study his face.

“Uhm, where’s his office?”

“Are you new here?” He asks her, and she sort of shrugs before telling him “kind of.” Then he turns around, and heads towards Xaviers office, expecting her to follow behind him. Completely forgetting about the beer he had stashed in the back of the fridge, which was the reason he wasn’t in his room in the first place. But then you showed up.

He reaches the door, and notices a change in her eyes as he reaches for the handle to Xavier's office, then she shot her hands out suddenly, gripping his forearm and keeping him from opening the door. He didn’t mind though, just her touch was sending waves of heat through his body. More words spilling past her lips that he couldn’t hear before she lets go and Xavier opens his office door.

He doesn’t remember the conversation after that. He just remembers staring at her as the light shone on her face from the office light, and he was hoping the image of the way her lips moved would be imprinted in his brain. He knew he had to have you.

“Finally decided to move in?”

“Move in?” He wonders, he’d be able to see you.

More of the conversation goes straight through his head.

“You have healing powers?”He asks, trying to see at least a little interest.

Then more conversation as she answered him. Any longer standing next to her and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands in his pockets. Then Xavier brings her into the room with him, cutting the conversation short.

Without even a good night, he just walks away, knowing if he had stared at you for one more second, he would’ve busted just by watching her lips move.

The next day wasn’t any better, he had stayed up all night just thinking about her, and when he got to see her again in the afternoon, he immediately felt better, Vincent trying to hang out with him as usual, but Vincent was nothing special like you were. He needed-

You.

Readers POV

You were ecstatic, it was Tuesday and you would finally have your own room, and Xavier tells you that Logan picked out some clothes as well that you might like. You couldn’t wait as you woke up in the morning, immediately searching for Logan, whom you’ve come surprisingly close to in the span of two days, and you normally found him in his room, just relaxing.

You don’t bother knocking, he’s told you to just come in, so you do. Immediately barging into his room and hopping onto the foot of his bed, his eyes watching you.

“So my room?” You ask.

“It’ll be done by 12.” Groaning, you lean back until you’re on your back, the stretch of your skin hurting the bruises on your ribs and stomach, making you wince. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You say quickly, groaning as you sit back up.”

“You’re lying, something hurts, what is it?” Your jaw tightens as you squeeze your teeth together, and just before you speak, his bedroom door opens. The same brown haired girl coming in as usual, every time you were in there. You assumed she was Logan's girlfriend, or something in that matter, but he talks so poorly of her.

“Vincent, I’ve asked you to knock.” You notice the change in his tone every time he talks to her. It’s soft when he speaks to you, but when he talks to her he sounds pissed every time.

“She doesn’t.” She shrugs, pointing at you before coming to sit on the bed, but Logan stretches his leg out just before she can sit and join.

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to leave. We’re having a private conversation that she wouldn’t want to share with you.” You squint your eyes, wanting to say he’s lying through his teeth, but it was true. You only trusted Logan with this information.

“Fine. Okay, Lo. Bye, and bye hun.” Vincent turns back around, making a disgusted face as she faces you, but Logan's face matches her disgust when she uses his newly acquired nickname.

“Doesn’t sound the same when she says it.” He tells you, turning back to you. “So what’s wrong?” He tries on the subject, watching your chest as you sigh heavily.

“You know the video I sent you?” You recall the video of the men attacking you.

“Yea, the assholes who tried to kick your ass.”

“Yes. The one dude that ran after me did eventually catch up, and…” You voice softens, and you slowly lift your sweater, revealing the purple and blue bruises that were painted across your stomach and ribs.

“Holy shit, he did that?” He sounded actually pissed as he stood up, suddenly laying you down before lifting your sweater further, only stopping when you hold the sweater at your chest. You weren’t wearing a bra. “Those assholes…” He mumbles, his left hand gently gliding over your bruises. Half of your body wants to punch him, but you know he’s just being friendly. You never took him as one to love physical touch, but he adored being touched or touching someone else.

“Yea, but it’s okay now.” You tell him, watching as he shakes his head before his hand finally lies flat on your lower stomach where there were no bruises.

“No it isn’t, this looks painful.”

You shrug. “Can’t do anything about it.” You whisper to yourself mostly, his eyes seemingly getting darker as his eyes move from your skin to the wall, a thought coming to his head.

“Yea, you’re right.” But he didn’t sound confident as he removed his hand from your stomach and helped you sit up.

“Just don’t tell anyone yet. I don’t want Xavier to over react.”

“I won’t but what about your checkup on Friday?”

“I asked if I could keep my clothes on, because I don’t like revealing my body.”

He wanted to ask why. Why wouldn’t you want to reveal your body? It was amazing, it was everything he’s ever wanted.

“Is that true? Or just an excuse?” You don’t say anything for a moment, not wanting to make the moment awkward but ultimately failing at best. “Darling.” He says finally, leaning forward until his face is just a few inches from yours. “You are absolutely gorgeous, don’t ever think otherwise.” You smile a little, basking in the compliment, ignoring the red sirens in your head.

“Well, thank you.” You awkwardly start to pick at your nails. “I should probably get going, I’m sure you're busy, and Xavier needed me for something.” You lie, some sort of sixth sense beginning to poke at your body. “But text me when the room is done please.” You stand, getting off his bed and he watches you move.

“Of course, I’ll see you later.”

Throughout the next few hours, you couldn’t stop looking over your shoulder. Your body was telling you something was off and you weren’t sure what it was. You were supposed to be safe and feel safe in the mansion, but for some reason, your brain suddenly wouldn’t settle.

“Hey.” A voice comes from behind you and a hand is placed on your shoulder.

“Oh, hey.” You mumble, Scotts hand still on your shoulder as he walks next to you.

“So, Logan was telling me he wanted to hand you the key to your room, but I saw you walking so here.” He holds the key out on his index finger, it dangles from a little chain.

“Why would it matter who hands it to me?” You take the key as you ask the question.

“I guess he wanted to see your reaction or something,” He takes his hand off. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, thank you, Scott. I’ll head upstairs right now.”

“Alright cool, if you need anything let me or Logan know, and by the way we also put clothes in the drawer. Xavier asked us to.” He lets you know before nodding to his friend group. “But nice seeing you, hope you like the room.” He finishes, then jogs off to his friends as you split off into another hallway, making your way up the stairs and to your room.

The second you walk in, you freeze, taking a moment before you could actually close the door. The room was nice of course. You loved it. But they had put a LOT more effort into the room than Xavier had led on. It wasn’t plain and dark wooded like all of the other rooms. Your room was lighter coloured, and the bedsheets and furniture were a girly design. Some are adorned with flower patterns or glittered with sparkles. And you’re surprised.

But that wasn’t what your eyes immediately landed on. No.

It was the bouquet on your bedsheets.

Your favourite flowers, all nicely put into a bow tie, were just sitting there, a little tag on it with Logan's name scribbled onto it. You didn’t take him for one with good handwriting.

You lift the flowers, smelling them. They were beautiful, you couldn’t deny that, but it all felt so wrong, inappropriate even. But you walk over to a little desk with your flowers, noticing an empty vase sitting on the table, already filled with water for you, so you cut the tie on the flowers and gently arrange them in the vase before texting Logan.

You put your phone away, your palms placed on the desk as you stare into the mirror attached to the wall. He had wanted to show you the room at 12, but it was past then. It was already 5 in the afternoon, did he not expect Scott to just hand you the keys? Whatever.

You think, examining the room a little further and opening the drawers to see what clothes he’d purchased for you.

In the closet there were hoodies hanging, and a few pairs of shoes including heels were set on low shelves. In the drawers were the pants, some skirts, short shorts, and a few pairs of sweats. In the other drawer were some bras and panties, all neatly folded. They weren’t exactly your style though. You were a more comfortable person when it came to bras and panties, and what he had purchased were all lace, apart from a few sports bras for if you went out exercising.

You didn’t mind it though. It was sweet of him to put as much time in as he did for you, but you still felt like he overdid it, like he had done more than he was expected to do.

Just then, as you begin to become lost in your thoughts, there’s a knock at your door, and not a second passes before it opens, you had forgotten to lock it, and Vincent's face proves it.

“Hey-”

“Don’t fucking play with me.” She cuts you off, closing the door behind her before storming up to you. “I know what you’re doing, and it better-” She pauses, her eyes landing on the vase of flowers, Logan's name still hanging from one of the stems. “He got you these?”

You nod, taking a step back from her.

“He doesn’t even buy me, his literal fucking lover any flowers, but then he gets you flowers?”

“Wait, you two are-?”

“Yes you fucking idiot.” She raises her voice a little as she speaks to you. “For years now it’s just been me and him, but ever since you’ve shown up, he’s ALWAYS around you and he never stops talking about you, so you need to back the fuck off.” Her finger points at you as she approaches you until your back is against the wall.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, but I’m not even going at him, I only ever go see him when he asks or if it’s important, otherwise I never actually see him-”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” Your voice finally starts to raise a little.

“Then why the fuck were you in his room on his bed earlier?”

“Because I had a question.”

“He said it was personal.” You pause, your lips slightly parted. “What could that possibly mean?” She scoffs. “I mean are you two fucking?”

“Absolutely not, sorry, I’m not interested in him.”

“Then what was so private that-”

“There was nothing private about it.” It was your turn to interrupt her, and slowly begin to stalk towards her, having enough of her attitude. “I’m sorry that you’re so self conscious about your boyfriend that you have to yell at me and confront me instead of trusting him, but this is not my problem. And for the record, the conversation wasn’t private, so you might want to check in with Logan to make sure he actually loves you, it seems to me he wanted you gone.”

Her face hardens, but she says nothing.

Until her fist collides with your face, pain shooting through your body from the already horribly placed bruise on your cheek.

So you hit back, and it’s back and forth throwing punches, you of course having the advantage from years of hiding and self defence. You punch at her until she’s on the floor before climbing down on top of her, hitting more punches to her face until there’s a shooting pain in the side of your thigh, making you scream in pain and fall off of her as she gets on top of you, leaving her knife in your thigh as it was her turn to punch your face, her knuckles mainly colliding with the already bruised part of your skin. Then she’s lifted off of you, thrown against the wall and you see her fall back to the floor out of the corner of your eye.

Groaning, you sit up. The knife is still sticking out of the side of your thigh making it painful to sit. You look up, and Logan is speaking to Vincent, but you couldn’t hear it. Then you shake your head a little, numbing the ringing sound of pain before gripping your bed frame and hoisting yourself up on the leg that wasn’t injured.

“So you fucking stab her?”

“She attacked me first!”

“I highly fucking doubt that.” He turns around, noticing you were not standing with beads of blood dripping down your thigh, enough to make it down to soak into the shoes you were wearing. “Are you okay? Hey, stay still.” He tells you, rushing over to help you stand.

“Don’t fucking help her, look at me!” Vincent demands, pointing at her face, her nose obviously broken as trails of blood seep past her lips.

“Yea and you fucking stabbed her!” He grits his teeth, trying not to yell since it was already most kids' time to fall asleep.

“She fucking started it.”

“No I didn’t…” You mumble, looking up at her with hate, wishing Logan wasn’t there so you could punch at her again, but you knew he would easily peel you off of her.

"I don’t care who started it, we need to get both of you to the nurse.” He finishes the argument before easily lifting you, making sure to be careful with your wound.

“Oh so you’re not gonna carry me?”

“Shut the fuck up and get the door.”

At the nurse, she doesn’t ask for an explanation. She simply takes care of Vincent, who was lucky she only had her nose dislocated, before asking Vincent to leave as she came over to you, Logan sitting behind you as you stood on your good leg.

“So I see Vincent doesn’t like you either.”

“Either?” You ask the nurse as she inspects the wound on your thigh.

“She tends to believe that every girl is after this boyfriend of hers, but no one knows who her boyfriend is.” You squint your eyes and look back at Logan.

“She said you were her boyfriend.”

“I’m not.” He growls. “She’s a fucking psycho.”

“She sure is.” The nurse mumbles, knowing she shouldn’t be expressing her opinion. “Wish you had broken her nose, then I wouldn’t have to see her.” She admits, grabbing a clean cloth from a counter.

You groan, dreading the moment the knife would have to be pulled from your body.

“So this is going to hurt obviously.” She tells you, bending down next to you and gripping the knife handle.

“Wait.” You say quickly, just before she’s about to. “Uh… I don’t-” You’re suddenly nervous. You knew it would need to be removed, but you really didn’t want it to be. You always got oozy around blood and sharp objects, such as knives and needles.

“Okay.” She nods towards Logan, who reaches forward and wraps his arms around you, holding your arms down to your sides and keeping you still.

“Logan-!” You scream, biting your teeth down in pain as the nurse pulls the knife out of your thigh, and it takes a moment for some reason, making her have to pull with more effort before it finally comes loose, a pained whimper leaving your lips as it comes out, blood pooling down your leg and onto the floor a little before she quickly covers the wound with the towel, Logans arms still wrapped around you.

“See the wasn’t so bad-” She looks at you, expecting to see your eyes fall on her, but they were closed, and your head was limp.

Yea, you’d passed out. You told her to wait for a reason, but she didn’t give you time to explain why. You knew you were going to pass out, and it was a good thing Logan was holding you, or you would’ve already been face planted on the tile floor.

“Oh.” She says, surprised. “She’s fainted.”

Logan's eyes squint in confusion as the nurse turns away and his finger gently is placed under your jaw as he continues to hold you, the nurse wrapping the cloth around your wound as she goes to collect what she needs for stitches.

He looks down at you, moving your head so it rests under his chin as he presses a soft kiss to your head. One you would punch him for if you were awake.

“I'll probably have to medicate her. I don’t know if it was the knife or blood that bothered her.” the nurse tells him, kneeling next to you with a kit to stitch the wound.

“It was probably the blood.”

“Which wouldn’t be too good. She’ll have to replace the bandage in the morning and a few more times, meaning there will be more blood until it heals.”

“I can help her.”

“What exactly happened with Vincent and her?” Logan looks down at you, making sure you were still faint before answering her.

“Vincent just walked into her room, yelling at her. Then she punched her.”

“Oh, Vincent is- well she’s something.” The nurse says, just as your eyes twitch slightly, but you keep them shut, your head spinning as you feel the needle the nurse was using go into your skin.

“Yea, Vincent is annoying, she can be a piece of shit. But Y/N only has a certain amount of patience. I just can’t believe Vincent punched her.” How did he know that?

“Yea, I’ll be sure to suspend Vincent, I know she has a home outside of the mansion.”

“And what about her?” He looks down at you, eyes still closed.

“Well, I know she didn’t start it, but she did still fight back instead of trying to get away. So I’ll have to send out a suspension for her too. Vincent will have her three days, then when she gets back, it will be Y/N's turn, we don’t want them outside both at the same time.”

There’s a clipping sound as the nurse cuts the wire she was stitching you with, and she stands, some blood on her gloves as she looks at you, your eyes finally opening.

“All done darling.” She smiles sweetly, nodding towards Logan so he lets you go.

“Thank- thank you.” How did he know Vincent had punched you first? He wasn’t there and no one actually described what had happened yet. You were with Vincent from when she arrived to when she left, neither of you had told Logan who did what first, only why.

“Of course, now was it the blood or knife that made you… faint.”

“The blood.” You mumble, hating even the word.

“Okay, well are you alright with Logan changing the wrap twice a day? So you don’t have to walk all the way down here?” You nod, and feel Logan take a deep breath, your back still against his chest but you feel too exhausted to move.

“Alright. Well, he’ll help you to bed of course, let me know if you need anything, and let me know if it starts to bleed profusely. As a matter of fact maybe you should sleep in the same room together.” She throws the idea out there as she cleans her area. “It would be smart in case you do wake up in blood, you’ll wind up and faint then bleed out.”

You turn to look at Logan, who only shrugs. It was up to you.

“Yea… I guess that would be a good idea.” You sigh a little, not exactly excited to have to sleep near Logan for the sake of your life.

“Alright then, well you two have a good night then.” Logan shifts behind you, then lifts you again as the nurse shoves a bottle into his pocket. “Only two a day, painkillers, she doesn’t have to take them, but she should only need them for the next two weeks.”

“Thank you, Ronda. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He places you on his bed, making sure you’re comfortable sitting before going to his drawer and taking out a shirt.

“Go ahead and take those off, they’re covered in blood.” He tells you, and you hesitate before looking down, your shorts ruined from blood, then you shift a little to make space and remove them, it’s painful. “Here, shirt too.” You look down again, yes, of course the shirt was ruined.

You sigh a little, pulling your shirt off over your head before quickly taking the shirt from him and replacing your last shirt. “I’m sorry for what happened-”

“How did you know?”

He freezes, and stares down at you.

“Know what?”

“That she was in my room.”

“I didn’t know. I was going in there to see how you liked your room but walked in on her kicking your ass.”

“For your information, I was kicking her ass.”

“This says otherwise.” He points to your thigh, wrapped in bandages, and you chuckle a little.

“Yea, if she hadn’t stabbed me though, I would’ve won.”

“I’m sure you would’ve.” He tells you, moving around the bed after switching off the lights to sit next to you, and he lifts his shirt off over his head, giving you a moment to look down at his toned abs before looking away, his shirt barely covering his eyes for a second.

“Wake me up if you need me.” He tells you, opening the pill bottle and handing you two pills.

“Thank you.”

“Do you need water?” You shake your head, taking the pills dry before he turns off his bedside lamp. “Okay, then good night.”

“Good night.” You echo, lying down next to him after turning out the lamp on your side as well.

And as your eyes close, the pain in your thigh subsiding, he falls asleep way before you, the bed shifting as he moves his weight closer to you. Except he doesn’t touch you like you expected him too, your body stiffening at the thought.

Behind you, his hand pauses as he sees you stiffen, you could feel his hand had gotten closer, the only reason he hadn’t touched you was because of the fear he could smell off of you. Fear he knew he would have to demolish.

[toournextadventure]

our little secret pt.v

Summary: Letters to you.

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: swearing, mention of possible suicide (slight mention, nothing happens), mental instability, mental spiraling, religious talk (Southern Christianity) Pairing: Lorraine Day x Reader (Masterlist) A/N: this is like a little filler, just having fun trying out something different. Don't worry, there's still a giant chapter left! Also? When Lorraine signs the letters to you, she puts a little heart over the i <3

June 15th

I thought you said you’d always be waiting. But I come home to hear from your momma that you’re on a vacation with Roy? Why didn’t you tell me before I left? I would have given you a proper goodbye.

It’s probably a good idea, though. Roy could definitely use the break and I’m sure you can too. I know the past few weeks have been… rough. I’m sorry. I didn't know it was going to happen. But we can talk more about things when you get back. For now, make sure you have some fun, okay?

Your momma said y’all went out West. If you could write me back and let me know where, maybe I can meet up with you. We can have a proper vacation for once. Do y’all have any real plans, or are you just traveling? I’m sure either one will do the job. You always did want to get out of town for a bit.

Our shoot went well. Max and Bobby-Lynne asked about you the whole time. It doesn't sit right with me when they're constantly checking up on you. Maybe I'm just jealous. It's probably nothing compared to how you feel. At least they mean well, I suppose. They send you their love. Maxine sent… a little more than love, but I’m not telling you about that.

By the time you get this letter, it shouldn’t be too long before you’re back home. I’ll be here waiting for you, okay? Don’t forget to send me some postcards. And if you find anything cute, don't forget to buy it for me! I'll pay you back, I promise.

I'll see you soon.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

June 29th

Having too much fun?

We all thought you'd both be home by now. The 4th is next week, you know. We never miss the 4th. Daddy said he would cook out this year. He's making your favourite and Beau and Huck got the good fireworks. We can take the truck out and watch the show, just you and me. RJ will be out so we can be free for a bit. That’ll be nice, right? A nice little break. So you better not miss it.

Speaking of, Beau isn’t too happy that you’re not home yet. He’s been doing a lot of pacing and mumbling a bunch of nonsense. I think he’s being a bit dramatic. He’s not happy that you left without letting him know. Said he could have told you a few places to go to be safe. I think he just misses you. We all do.

We haven’t been out to a shoot for a while. I’m glad. It hasn’t been the same since RJ proposed. Nothing has, really. Things just don’t feel the same. There’s guilt in everything I do now, I don’t know how to explain it. I just don’t feel comfortable with anything, even daily chores. Did you ever feel that guilt? The one that sits deep in your belly?

On a brighter note, Jimmy and Liz are back in town. They seem to be doing good. And no, they’re not pregnant, thank God. It’s a modern miracle. They had hoped to see you before the summer is over. Of course they will though, it’s not even July yet, the summer is still young. Besides, I know no vacation is more fun than hanging out with us, right? Even Roy would agree, I know it.

Momma is calling me to dinner now, so I’ll wrap it up. I’ll see you on the 4th, okay?

Yours, Lorraine

—---

July 23rd

Hey darlin, I think it’s about time you came home. You’ve more than missed the 4th, and Lorraine ain’t too happy. It’s the first time you’ve missed a holiday, you know? It ain’t like you. I know this ain’t the happiest place for you right now, but your family is here. We’re all here.

Where’d you go anyhow? You and Roy are homebodies, y’all don’t know anybody out West. If you really wanted a vacation, you could’ve waited for us to get home. We would’ve taken you. I’m sure Lorraine would’ve been happy to go too. We could’ve had a double vacation, you know? Like we always talked about?

Huck and I won our competition the other day. Wish you had been there to cheer us on. We wiped the floor with everybody. Best team ropers in the South, just you wait. You’d best come home for the next one. I’d hate to get too popular for you to notice us, you know?

I’ll keep Lorraine calm and happy, but I really need you to get home, darlin. It’s a bit past time to be concerned. At the very least, send us a letter back. I can handle you being gone for so long if I know where you are. I know this isn’t a happy place, but we’re still worried about you. We can make it a better place again, I promise.

Just send me something back, okay? I’d appreciate it.

Love you, Beau

—---

August 12th

Hon, I really think you need to come home. Lorraine and Beau are losing their minds. No one has heard from you or Roy since you left, and your parents don’t seem worried at all. Your momma seems the slightest bit concerned, but your daddy isn’t. Everyone is just acting weird, so you need to come home.

Jim and Liz left for seminary again last week. They were mighty upset they didn’t get to see you before they left. It’s been about since Christmas since y’all were together, right? They miss you both. Y’all are family. Maybe try to write him while y’all are gone, I’ll write his address at the bottom in case you don’t remember.

If I have to listen to Beau and Lorraine ask where you are one more time, I’m going to lose my mind. You know neither one of them knows how to be patient or think logically. They have a single bad thought and run with it. I need you here to help me calm them down, because you’re fine, just taking a break from everything.

No one blames you for taking a break. After everything… it’s the least you deserve. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Lorraine asked the other night if this is her fault. I told her it wasn’t. We all know that girl loves you to the moon and back. And we all know you love her back. Things can be worked out, but you’ve got to come back home first, okay?

After all this, you had better be having the time of your life, darling. I’m going to assume as much since you’re not answering anybody. Hey, if you can’t write back, can you at least give us a number to try and call you at? Beau said he’d pay any long-distance charges, he just wants to make sure you’re okay.

He’s playing the part of a dutiful boyfriend, you know. Everyone thinks it’s romantic. I know he’s just worried about you, but it’s weird to hear everyone giving him their sympathies. Is this how you feel when everyone talks to Lorraine about RJ? Like you’re in second place in a race you hadn’t wanted to compete in? Because if so, then I think I understand you a bit. It’s… not a nice feeling.

Ah, I won’t get sentimental. We can talk more when you get home. I think I understand you a little better. That’s kinda sad, isn’t it? Took you leaving for me to get a better grip on your feelings? Well, just come home soon so we can talk. As I’ve made clear, Beau and Lorraine miss you. But I miss you too, darling. Enjoy your trip, but please come home soon safe and sound.

With love, Huck

—---

October 9th

This ain’t funny anymore, you know. It ain’t funny, and you need to get home now. You can quit ignoring all our letters, we get it. You’re hurt, you’re upset, you wanna teach us a lesson or somethin. We get it, we understand, just come home.

Lorraine is losing her gotdamn mind, and quite frankly I am too. No one’s heard a peep from you or Roy. You didn’t even like the West, you had always said it was too different. Never liked how they did their food either. So why would you even go out that way anyway?

You’re probably out drinking those fancy beers they try to peddle up there. They’re not as good as ours and you know it. Or you’re out doing those stupid hikes that you never cared for, getting more blisters on your heels because you don’t even like walks. There’s nothing good out there and you need to come back.

You should’ve left us a note before you left. That ain’t like you, you know. You always let us know where you’re going. You couldn’t even go to church camp back in the day without leaving a personalised letter for each of us. But now you just up and leave in the middle of the night? No warning? That ain’t right and you know it.

People keep asking me where you are and I don’t have any more answers. I can only say “she’s on vacation” so many times before people realise it’s a lie. And it is, isn’t it? It’s a lie. You’re not on some damn vacation. If you ran off, just let me know. I’ll leave you alone as long as I know you’re safe.

Did we make you that miserable? Was being around us so awful that you had to leave? You could’ve told us first. We could’ve come up with a plan, something that wouldn’t hurt you so bad. I don’t know what we could’ve done, but we could’ve tried something. Anything at all.

I need you to answer my letters, honey. I really need you to let me know you’re safe.

Please be safe.

Love you, Beau

—---

December 17th

You missed Halloween. And Thanksgiving. Are you going to miss Christmas too? And New Year's Eve? Am I going to have to jump into the new year without you? Please let me know if I am, because I need to be prepared. I’ve spent holiday after holiday waiting for you to come back, for you to spend it with me again. I get my hopes up every single time just for you to not be there.

RJ keeps asking me what’s wrong, and I’m honest with him. I miss you. I miss you so badly my chest aches. But he doesn’t understand. He thinks I just miss my best friend. And I do, you’ve always been my best friend. But you’re so much more than that, and I can’t explain it to him until you get back because I need someone to hold on to while you’re gone. When are you coming back?

Are you waiting for an apology? Because I’ll give you one, I’ll give you as many as you want. I’m sorry about RJ. I’m sorry about the proposal and that I didn’t say no. I’m sorry about Mr. Dylan, he never should’ve touched you. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye properly. I’m sorry I avoided you after the proposal, I was just scared and didn’t know what to do.

I’ll say sorry for anything you want or need. Just please answer me. Please come home. I don’t want anything else for Christmas, I don’t want any other miracle, I just want you. Please come home.

I miss you.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

January 24th

We searched Roy’s room and found all his guns gone.

I’m done asking, darling, you need to call us or send us a letter. Now. Now, I don’t believe Roy would do anything to you, but your daddy is on a kick about how unstable he was. How he’s still sick from the devil and all that nonsense he would always preach. I know he wouldn’t touch a hair on your head, but I really need you to answer me.

Lorraine has been losing her patience with RJ. She yelled at him the other day just because he tried to hold her hand. Told him not to touch her. It was quite the show. And it’s going to get her in trouble. She needs you, you know? You’re not the only one who has to hide.

I’m sorry, but I went through your room. It’s been long enough, your momma practically gave me the go ahead. You didn’t take any of your letters from Lorraine. Did you mean to leave them? I hope you didn’t. I hope it was an accident, and you didn’t mean to leave us behind.

Beau has a letter for you too, but he’s not done with it. I don’t know how to help him. He’s got himself convinced he should’ve done more. I don’t know what he should have done. I don’t know what he could have done differently. Did you want him to propose? The three of us could’ve moved off somewhere, you know. We could’ve made it work if it’s what you wanted.

Everyone wants you home. They need you to come home. No one is complete without you, it’s like a big part of town is missing. Stevie from the bar finally pulled me aside and asked about you last weekend. I couldn’t even give him an answer. He said he’d pray for you. Said he’d keep a shot of the good stuff saved for when you get back.

Fuck it. I miss you too. You’re one of my very best friends, hon. You’re the one who’s been with me through everything. Hell, you introduced me to Beau. You’re the only one I can truly talk to about things. I need you home too, okay? You’re part of my home, so I need you to come back.

I need you to write back.

With love, Huck

—---

January 30th

You’re an absolute bastard. You know that? You’re a fuckin bastard. A vacation? Give me a fuckin break, you didn’t go on no gotdamn vacation. Where’d you go, huh? Somewhere we’d never find you? Did Roy convince you to leave? He probably did, the prick. Ain’t no way you would’ve left on your own, you’re not stupid.

What the hell were you thinkin? Just up and leavin like it ain’t nobody’s business. Well it’s my business. It’s my fucking business and you should’ve told me. You’re supposed to be my girlfriend. I don’t care that we’re pretendin, I still fuckin care about you and you just fuckin left? Did I mean that little to you?

We had a pretty great thing goin, you didn’t have to leave and ruin it. I don’t care that it was a lie, we were happy. I still had Huck, and you still had Lorraine, and we were happy. You didn’t have to pack your bags and leave like a thief in the night to, what, prove a point? Well I get it now, you weren’t as happy as I thought. You could’ve told me instead of doin all of this.

You’d better answer the gotdamn letter this time. I ain’t playin around anymore. You better answer the letter and get your ass home. And if Roy is readin this, then you better get her home. You’d better have kept your gotdamn hands and your guns away, and you better get her home. Now.

Beau

—---

February 15th

Hey, momma said I should try to send you something. She said you might answer me since I’m your baby brother. Are you and Roy okay? I don’t care what Pap says, I know y’all aren’t dumb, y’all didn’t go do something stupid. Roy probably just grabbed his guns to keep you safe. He’s not crazy.

Gramma came down with something nasty. The doctors think it’s pneumonia, but we’re still waiting for tests to come back. You both should probably get back just in case it’s bad. She misses you. She prays for you both twice a day. It’s really sweet, she just wants you both safe.

Seminary has been alright. Boring. You would’ve liked it more. Heck, you would’ve been better at it. No one knows the bible quite like you, I don’t care what Pap says. If any one of us should’ve gone off to study, it should’ve been you. Maybe once he sees how bad at it I am, he’ll change his mind. Think so? Probably not.

I’m waiting to propose to Liz until you both get back. I’ve got it all planned out and everything, even bought a ring. You’d like it, I think. But I can’t get married without my big siblings, right? Don’t worry, I can be patient. Y’all just get home safe and sound, you hear?

We love you. The both of you. We’ll see you soon.

Jimmy

—---

February 18th

Your Gramma passed away today. The funeral is in two weeks. That should be more than enough time for you to get back.

We’ll see you soon, love.

With love, Huck

—---

March 4th

Your Gramma’s funeral was today. You weren’t there. Why weren’t you there? You meant the world to her. She meant the world to you. You were the one she wanted to see, and you weren’t even there to see her buried.

She would have wanted you to be here.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

April 4th

A police report came in that they found two bodies in the river a few hours away from here. The bodies are decomposed too much to make identifications. I swear to god, hon, it better not be you. I know things were hard. For the both of you. But you didn’t have to go and do that.

It better not be you.

With love, Huck

—---

May 26th

Your daddy practically declared you both dead at church this morning. I guess after almost a year, he’s tired of worrying about it. He was never a patient man. I don’t think anyone really believed him, but who’s going to argue with their preacher? No one in this town, that’s for sure. Momma and daddy said you’re probably fine, just got sick of your daddy. No one would blame you if that were the case.

After church, Mr. Dylan told your daddy you and Roy had tried to kill him the night you left. If that were true, I don’t know why he didn’t bring it up when everyone was asking where you were. Don’t know why he saved it for now, but he did. Said you had both tried to kill him in the church.

He told your daddy you were a queer. Said you were a queer and you were going to infect the town with your sin. Huck hit him. Square on the jaw, knocked him out cold. I had thought it would be Beau. I hope he gave Mr. Dylan a concussion.

Did he really find out? Because I didn’t tell anybody, I swear. We always kept things a secret. At least I think we did. No one was ever around that didn’t already know. I know none of my crew told, they wouldn’t dare. I promise I didn’t tell anyone.

Momma asked me this evening if you really were queer. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what her reaction would be. She has always loved you, I didn’t want her to think any less of you because of what Mr. Dylan said. Daddy said we shouldn’t talk about it while you’re not here. Said it wasn’t right to talk behind your back. I don’t want them to hate you.

I won’t ever let them hate you.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

June 1st

I hate you. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I hate you. I hate you, and I hate Roy, and I hate this fuckin town and everyone in it.

You were supposed to be here, gotdammit. You were supposed to be here, and we were all supposed to grow old together. What the fuck were you thinkin? Don’t you know how much you’ve hurt me? Don’t you understand? We might not have been in love, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love you. I loved you, and you went and broke my heart like this?

We were all supposed to be together, you know. No matter what, remember? I thought you were my Huckleberry. Well what are you now, huh? A coward. You’re a fuckin coward. What, times get hard so you leave? You just pack your shit and leave with your crazy fuckin brother?

What were we to you? Were we just a means to an end? Nothing more than a toy for you to play with? Cause you were never that to me. You were never anything less than my best friend, the only girl I ever loved. And you just fuckin left me. Was I not good enough for you?

If that’s how you feel, then good fuckin riddance. Stay away. We don’t want you back in this town anyway. Go stay with your new fuckin friends that won’t ever fuckin know you or care about you the way we do. No one is ever gonna understand you like we do.

Don’t even bother comin back.

Beau

—---

June 2nd

Please come back. I can’t do this without you.

Beau

—---

June 4th

I broke off the engagement today. It’s all just too much. I can’t even stand looking at him anymore. Every time he looks at me makes my skin crawl. I can’t even stand being in the same room with him anymore. Each time he touches me makes me feel like a piece of my soul dies.

Did I do this to you? Did I push you to leave? If I did, I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. If I had been smarter, I would’ve suggested dating Huck instead. Then none of this ever would have happened. The four of us would’ve been together and no one would have ever known. We could’ve been happy.

Were you that unhappy? I never wanted you to hurt. All I ever wanted was you. Every time I had to fake a smile with RJ, or play nice, I always thought about you. I didn’t care about him, he was just a good distraction so no one would know about us. It was stupid. I never should’ve been afraid of how I felt.

I need you to come home. I need you to come home and tell me everything will be okay. Nothing feels the same without you. Foods don’t taste good, the sun isn’t as bright, nothing is fun. Most days I don’t even want to get out of bed anymore. I would rather rot away than go another day without you.

I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for everything. I’ll take everything back, I’ll tell the whole world that I love you. I’ll hold your hand at the store. I’ll sit in your lap at the bar, and pull you to dance with me. I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want. I just want you back. I need you back.

I love you. You’re my home. I need you here with me.

Please come back to me.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

July 1st

You took my heart with you, you know. No one else is ever going to have it. Please keep it safe.

Yours, Lorraine

—---

The bonfire was hot against Lorraine’s skin. Far too hot. Combined with the sweltering summer heat, it was painful. She didn’t care. Painful at least felt like something. It felt like something real, something she could focus on. Almost as real as the pile of letters in her hands, all stamped with the same thing on the front in red.

Return to sender.

“I’m sorry,” Max said softly. Her hand was surprisingly cool against Lorraine’s upper arm.

On the other side of the fire, off in the distance, she could hear Beau yelling. Drunken, incoherent rambling that no one could really understand. Huck had given up on trying to console him. After all, how could he console him about something that they couldn’t fix? What would be the point?

Another beer bottle shattered against the hard ground.

You were supposed to come back. You were supposed to be there waiting for Lorraine when she got back from filming. Then you were both going to talk, and you were going to come up with a plan to get out of the engagement, and then everyone was going to be happy. Maybe you could’ve gone out East for real, like the four of you had always talked about.

The letters in her hand felt like lead.

“Do you want us to give you a minute?” Bobby-Lynne asked. She squeezed Lorraine’s shoulders. It was comforting. Grounding.

“No,” Lorraine said softly. “It wouldn’t matter anyway.”

The letters were the last connection she had to you. Your daddy had quickly emptied out yours and Roy’s rooms, labeling you both as sinners and traitors. She had been lucky enough to grab your hat before he had thrown everything out. It sat comfortably on her head right at that moment.

Her last remnants of you.

No tears came as she held the letters over the fire. The flames licked the skin of her damaged fingers. She knew, logically, it should have hurt. It didn’t. Maybe, if she kept her hand there long enough, you would appear and pull her back. You would scold her for doing something dangerous, and then you could both go to bed.

That’s all she wanted. She just wanted to go to bed.

Her fingers pried themselves away from the letters, and she watched them fall onto the bonfire. One by one they caught a spark, turning a dark brown and curling around the edges before igniting. She could see the different handwriting on each page. Beau, Huck, Jimmy. Her own. All filling the pages with their thoughts, their concerns, their feelings. Things they would never dare tell each other.

She watched the fire until the very last letter burned. Your name faded away into the orange flame. You faded away into nothing, and when your name was no longer legible, Lorraine felt her own heart go with it. There was a space shaped exactly like you within her chest. No one would ever fill it, and she didn’t want them to.

You were her heart and soul. Her home.

She would never find anyone else for as long as she lived. And then, she would find you in death.

She would find you in every lifetime. No matter how long it took.

[theapollochronicles]

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞 | 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧

“She said, "Hello, mister, pleased to meet ya"

I wanna hold her, I wanna kiss her

She smelled of daisies, she smelled of daisies

She'd drive me crazy, she'd drive me crazy,”

pairing: caitlyn kiramman x female!zaunite!reader

summary: you’re a filthy blooded zaunite and she’s a pure blooded piltie. both of you are worlds apart.

warnings: unimplied post-sex morning after, mild cussing, mild smoking, angst, some fluff (if you squint).

The room was quiet, save for the faint rustle of sheets as Caitlyn shifted in her sleep. You lay beside her for a while longer, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest in the muted light of morning. She looked peaceful, far from the stern Enforcer you’d come to know, far from the one who might have arrested you had circumstances been different.

You pulled yourself from the bed carefully, mindful not to disturb her. Your boots sat neatly by the door where Caitlyn had asked you to leave them last night—a futile attempt to keep her immaculate floors from the grime of Zaun. Padding across the carpeted floor, you grabbed your coat, shrugging it on as you slipped onto the balcony attached to her bedroom.

The morning air bit at your skin, crisp and clean in a way that only Piltover air could be. You leaned against the railing and pulled a cigarette from your coat pocket, lighting it with a practiced flick. The first drag hit your lungs like an old friend, grounding you in the reality you tried to forget whenever you were here.

You blew out the smoke, watching it curl upward and disappear into the sky that always seemed too bright, too clean. Piltover. A city of progress, as they called it, but all you could think about was the soot-streaked faces back home in Zaun, the ones who never saw sunlight like this.

And Caitlyn. You looked back toward her sleeping form through the glass doors, her dark hair spilling over the pillow, her features soft in repose. She didn’t belong in your world, just as you didn’t belong in hers. An Enforcer and a Zaunite. The irony wasn’t lost on you, not when you knew the Chem Barons you worked for—the ones Silco led—had spilled blood in the streets she swore to protect.

You exhaled another plume of smoke and shook your head. What the hell were you doing? Every time you woke up in her bed, it felt more dangerous, more impossible. The gap between your worlds didn’t just feel wide—it felt insurmountable.

But you couldn’t stay away.

The sound of the door sliding open caught your attention. You turned to see Caitlyn, a blanket draped over her shoulders, her expression a mix of sleepiness and quiet concern.

“You’re up early,” she murmured, stepping out onto the balcony. Her voice was soft, but it carried that steadiness you admired so much.

“Didn’t want to wake you,” you replied, flicking the ash from your cigarette.

Caitlyn’s eyes flicked to the cigarette before returning to you. She didn’t scold you for it—she never did. Instead, she leaned on the railing beside you, her presence grounding in a way the smoke could never be.

“You know,” she began, her gaze sweeping over the city below, “you don’t have to leave so early every time.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “And let your parents find out you’ve been sneaking a filthy ass Zaunite into your room? Don’t think so.”

Caitlyn’s lips quirked up in a faint smile, but her eyes betrayed her. There was worry there, the kind that always made your chest ache.

“We don’t have to keep doing this,” she said softly, the words hanging in the air between you.

Your grip tightened on the railing, the cigarette burning low between your fingers. “Don’t say that, Cait.”

“It’s the truth,” she pressed. “You work for Silco. I’m an Enforcer. If anyone found out—”

“They won’t.”

“But they could.”

You turned to face her, the raw vulnerability in her expression cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. “What do you want me to say? That I’ll leave Silco? That I’ll run away with you? That I’ll become someone else?” You shook your head. “That’s not who I am, Caitlyn. You know that.”

Her eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought she might argue. But instead, she sighed, her shoulders sagging under the weight of all the things left unsaid.

“I just… I don’t want to lose you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You reached out, cupping her cheek with a hand that felt far too rough against her soft skin. “You won’t,” you promised, though you weren’t sure if it was a lie or not.

She leaned into your touch, her eyes closing briefly as if she could hold onto this moment forever. But the sun was rising higher, and you both knew what that meant.

With a reluctant sigh, you dropped your hand and turned back to the railing, taking one last drag of your cigarette before snuffing it out against the stone.

“I should go,” you said, your voice quiet.

Caitlyn didn’t argue, but as you stepped back inside to gather your things, you could feel her gaze on you, heavy with all the things neither of you dared to say.

You paused at the door, glancing back at her one last time. “Be careful out there, Cait.”

“You too,” she replied, her voice laced with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

And with that, you slipped out the door, leaving behind the warmth of her room for the cold, unforgiving reality of the world outside.

Zaun had a way of swallowing you whole. The air down here was thick with smog, the streets pulsed with danger, and the shadows stretched longer than they ever did in Piltover. It was the kind of place that reminded you why you couldn’t afford to dream of something better.

You were back at The Last Drop, leaning against the bar with your hood up, the cigarette smoke here less a choice and more a byproduct of existing. Silco was somewhere upstairs, likely finalizing deals that would send more Shimmer to the surface. Jinx flitted around the floor, unpredictable as ever, but you’d learned not to react too much to her antics.

This was your life. This was where you belonged. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But you still felt her. Caitlyn. Her presence lingered in the back of your mind like a phantom—her soft voice, the way she’d smiled at you that morning despite everything that made her world and yours incompatible.

“Thinking about someone?” Sevika’s voice broke through your thoughts, low and rough as she slid onto the stool beside you.

You scoffed, brushing her off. “None of your business.”

“Uh-huh.” She leaned in, her grin predatory. “Careful, kid. You start acting like you’ve got something to lose, and you’ll end up dead in a gutter.”

Her words hit harder than they should have, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you flicked your empty glass toward the bartender and stood. “Don’t worry about me, Sevika. I know what I’m doing.”

She chuckled as you walked away, but the sound grated on you. Did you know what you were doing? The line between loyalty to Silco and your longing for Caitlyn felt thinner every day, and you were already stumbling over it.

The sting of seeing her again was as sharp as it was inevitable. You hadn’t planned on crossing paths, but Zaun and Piltover’s borders were ever-blurred, and tonight seemed determined to remind you of that fact.

It was on the bridge, that tenuous, fraying connection between the cities. You were running an errand for Silco—simple enough, nothing worth worrying about—when the flash of blue caught your eye.

Caitlyn.

She was speaking to an officer, her expression tense but composed. Even in her uniform, she stood out, her polished demeanor clashing with the grime of the bridge. You should’ve turned around, but something rooted you in place.

She caught your eye.

Her body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and for a moment, the world around you both seemed to fade into nothing. You didn’t dare move, but the weight of her gaze was suffocating. There was something in her eyes—relief, longing, and that same damn worry she’d carried the last time you were together.

“Officer Kiramman.” The other Enforcer’s voice broke whatever spell had settled over you.

Caitlyn nodded curtly, her professionalism snapping back into place. She glanced at you again, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face, but she turned and walked away, disappearing into the streets of Piltover.

Later that night, you couldn’t sleep. Her face kept flashing in your mind, the fleeting glance you’d shared on the bridge. The way she’d looked at you—like she wanted to reach out but couldn’t, like the invisible chasm between you had grown wider than either of you could bear.

The ache in your chest felt heavier than usual. You reached for the flask you kept by your bed and took a long swig, hoping the burn would drown out the thoughts. It didn’t.

The night stretched on, and when sleep finally claimed you, it came with the weight of dreams you’d rather forget—dreams of Caitlyn’s laughter, of her hands tracing the scars you tried to hide, of a world where you weren’t on opposite sides of a war neither of you could stop.

You found her again—or maybe she found you. It was in a forgotten corner of Zaun, where the pipes groaned and the air smelled of rust and decay. She wasn’t in her uniform this time, but her posture was still rigid, her presence too clean, too sharp for a place like this.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said, voice low but steady.

Caitlyn crossed her arms, her jaw tight. “Neither should you.”

A dry laugh escaped you. “This is my home, Kiramman. What’s your excuse?”

She hesitated, her eyes scanning your face like she was searching for something. “You were on the bridge,” she said finally, her voice softer now.

“And you were in my city,” you replied, stepping closer despite the voice in your head screaming to stop.

The air between you was heavy, thick with the weight of words left unsaid. Finally, Caitlyn broke the silence.

“I hate this,” she admitted, her voice cracking just enough to twist the knife already lodged in your chest. “I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you. I hate that we’re…”

“Worlds apart?” you finished for her, your voice quieter than hers.

She nodded, her eyes glistening. “I don’t know how to do this. How to… be with you.”

You swallowed hard, the raw vulnerability in her voice making it hard to breathe. “Maybe we can’t,” you said, hating the words even as you spoke them. “Maybe that’s the truth we keep trying to ignore.”

Her face crumpled, and you had to look away before you lost whatever strength you had left.

“But I don’t want to stop,” she whispered, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you let yourself dream again. You stepped closer, your hands finding hers despite the voice in your head screaming at you to stop.

“I don’t either,” you admitted, your voice raw. “But what are we supposed to do, Cait? We can’t keep pretending this will work.”

“Then tell me how to stop,” she said, her voice breaking. “Because I can’t. I don’t know how to stop wanting you.”

You didn’t have an answer. All you could do was pull her into your arms, holding onto her like she was the only solid thing in your crumbling world.

Neither of you said anything else. There was nothing left to say.

A/n: this was not requested but i wanted to see how i’d write for the arcane show. how’d i do? requests are open for those wanting to request anything!!

[honestlydarkprincess]

so let the words slip out of your mouth

buck & eddie || rated: g || wc: 1.7k || read on ao3

Buck wasn’t trying to hide from Eddie. Really, he wasn’t. It’s just….every time Buck tried to get the words out he clammed up. He was pretty sure that Eddie thought there was something wrong with him, he’d been giving Buck increasingly worried looks over the last couple weeks.

Eddie had overheard Hen telling him that she would add him to the queer LAFD group chat— not she had said what the group chat was for at the time— and he’d given Buck a weird look, as he knew how much Buck hated group chats. Buck was also sure that Eddie had noticed the look on Bobby’s face when he looked at Buck sometimes, like he was proud of him, happy for him. It never failed to warm Buck from head to toe but he knew it made Eddie curious. The worst was probably Chimney, who, after a few too many weird goodbyes, had stopped saying bye altogether and had taken to saying adios.

So Eddie definitely knew something was up with Buck, but Buck was pretty sure he didn’t know what.

Buck was sitting at his table, staring into space as he contemplated how to tell Eddie. Tommy had just left— they’d had a nice romantic date before Tommy had to leave due to an early shift the next morning and Buck was still giddy over their date. Things were good between him and Tommy. Solid. They’d only been dating for a few weeks but Buck was over the moon and he was really excited to see where things were going to go between them.

A soft knock sounded at his door, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Buck went to answer it, figuring it was Tommy. “You forget something?” He asked as he opened the door.

Only it wasn’t Tommy, it was Eddie. “Hey, Buck. Can we talk?”

“Y-yeah, of course,” Buck stumbled over his words, moving to the side so Eddie could come in. Buck swallowed roughly as he shut the door behind him. Looks like they’d be having this conversation whether he was ready or not. “What do you want to talk about?”

Eddie just gave him a look. “You know what.”

Buck sighed. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, Eds. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Eddie pressed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “If I’m being honest, Buck, I don’t really know what’s going on. I just know that everyone at work is acting weird, like they’re in on this secret and I’m not, and I’ve tried to figure it out, trust me. But I can’t. What could be so bad that you can’t tell me?”

“It’s not bad, I promise,” Buck said earnestly. “There’s nothing wrong, I’ve just…figured some things out.”

“Okay…” Eddie trailed off, looking at Buck when he didn’t elaborate. “What things?”

“It’s that— I’m—” Buck tried, swallowing against the lump in his throat. His heart was beating so fast, just like it had the first time he came out. You’d think all the practice he’d had would have made it easier but something about coming out to Eddie made everything feel so much more.

“Is it that you’re hanging out with Tommy? I saw him leave. You guys don’t have to hide it,” Eddie said, his brow furrowed. “It’s not like I’d be upset. A little bummed that I’m not invited but not upset,” Eddie chuckled, although his laughter trailed off when Buck just stood there.

“Tommy and I…” Buck started, clearing his throat. “We are hanging out but we’re not friends.”

“How does that work?” Eddie looked adorably confused.

“Eds, we’re dating.”

“Oh,” Eddie said, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “So I’m…the news is that I’m bisexual. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, digesting the new information while Buck fidgeted in front of him. “So…when we ran into you at the pizza place…you guys were on a date, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, it was our first,” Buck mumbled, unable to keep a small smile from gracing his lips. The date had been a little tense and a whole lot awkward when Eddie and Marisol interrupted but then Tommy had walked him back to his door and kissed him and Buck had melted, throwing himself into the kiss. They’d found their footing and it hadn’t been awkward since.

“Shit, Buck, I’m so sorry, we totally interrupted,” Eddie looked dismayed.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” Buck reassured.

“I’m still sorry,” Eddie said quietly. “And I’m sorry for storming over here and basically forcing you to tell me. You clearly didn’t want to and I made you and I’m just, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, no,” Buck said, his brow furrowing as he took a step closer to Eddie. “You didn’t make me do anything, I was always going to tell you, I was just having a hard time finding the words.”

Eddie let out a sigh of relief and closed the distance between them, pulling Buck into a bear hug. Buck hugged back just as tightly, letting out a shuddering breath when Eddie whispered, “I’m proud of you, Buck. Thanks for telling me.”

“You’re welcome,” Buck mumbled back. A quick fleeting thought dashed across his mind that Eddie’s arms felt so good around him, something he’d always known but now it was at the forefront of his mind. It felt different now and Buck felt a tendril of confusion. Why did hugging his best friend feel different now? Why did it feel better? Like something was slotting together? Buck shook his head as he pulled away from the hug, trying to physically shake away the thoughts. He wasn’t ready to think about that. “I’m surprised you’re here so late, where’s Chris?”

“Ah,” Eddie looked sheepish. “We had a bit of a fight and he wanted space so Tia Pepa said she’d take him for the night.”

“Oh? About what?” Buck was confused, the amount of times Eddie and Christopher had fought was a very small number.

Eddie sighed. “It’s dumb, you probably don’t want to hear it,” He tried to brush it off. “Let’s talk about more important things: so, you and Tommy?”

Buck ducked his head, blushing. “Yeah, me and Tommy.”

“That’s great, Buck, I’m really happy for you,” Eddie said. A quick expression flitted across his face, too quick for Buck to decipher it, before Eddie gave him a genuine smile.

“Thanks, Eds,” Buck murmured, a pleased glow lighting up his face. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know but first, talk to me about Chris. What did you fight about, is he okay?” Buck was concerned for his favourite Diaz.

“He’s not Marisol’s biggest fan,” Eddie sighed, scrubbing his jaw. “He doesn’t like that she’s been babysitting him so much— which is on me, I’ve been going out a lot with Tommy, especially that first couple of weeks and now, I just— I guess I have to figure that out.”

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry,” Buck said, his voice soft with sympathy. “You want a beer?”

“God, yes please,” Eddie blew out a breath, coming to sit down at the island in Buck’s kitchen. Buck placed an opened beer in front of him and then opened one for himself. “Thanks, Buck.” Eddie said gratefully, taking a hearty sip.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t even know,” Eddie said, picking at the beer bottle label. “If I’m being honest, I’m not…really feeling it? Like, it was exciting at first and she’s nice but that’s…that’s it. I don’t feel a spark with her, y’know? I don’t really feel anything for her. I guess that’s why I kind of blew up at Chris, because I felt guilty that I wasn’t actually upset that he didn’t like her.”

“If you want me to talk to him, just let me know,” Buck offered.

“That would be great, I’d really appreciate that.”

“No problem,” Buck smiled before he took a deep breath, steeling himself for his next question. “Speaking of Christopher, Eddie can I….can I tell him? About me?”

Eddie looked at him in surprise. “Buck, of course. You don’t even have to ask. Besides, he’s…” Eddie trailed off, looking at Buck with soft eyes. “He’s your kid too.”

Buck swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat, feeling tears sting his eyes. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah, Buck,” Eddie grinned.

“You’ve never said that before,” Buck said shyly.

“To be honest I thought you knew,” Eddie’s voice was gentle. “You’re his guardian if anything happens to me.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s mine,” Buck countered, looking down at his hands.

“It does to me,” Eddie replied firmly, so there was so ifs, ands, or buts. “He’s ours.”

“Ours,” Buck tested the word out, liking the way it sounded. “Okay. Ours.”

Eddie’s smile could outshine the sun and Buck felt his heart skip a beat, just like it always did when Eddie smiled at him.

The two of them were quiet for a minute, basking in the comfortable silence while they sipped their beer, before Buck eventually spoke up. “How do you think I should tell him?”

“That you’re bi?” Eddie asked and Buck nodded. “I’d just say it straight.”

Buck laughed. “Well, I don’t know if I can say it straight.”

Eddie chuckled. “You’re going to be making all the puns now, aren’t you?” His voice was unbearably fond and Buck wanted to wrap himself around the glow it lit inside him. “You know what I meant. Just say it outright, you know he’ll support you. You may have to explain what bisexual means but honestly I think he’s going to be very casual about it. Plus, he likes Tommy so you know he’s going to be excited that you’re dating.”

“Okay, great,” Buck’s shoulders relaxed and he let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck,” Eddie said. “Now come on, let’s finish these while we watch a shitty movie.”

“Sounds good,” Buck said warmly, following Eddie to the couch. And it did— sound good. He felt better than he had in weeks now that Eddie knew and was okay with it— just like Buck had always known he would be, but that small part of him that worried was loud. As Buck leaned back against the couch while they flicked through the movie options, he felt complete. And very, very free.

[lola-bunn1]

Hi could you please do a Neteyam x human reader where the reader needs glasses to see and Neteyam is very confused about them.

Thank you

Are you blind?

❥ a/n: this one’s a little short sorry babes!

When you were born, you didn’t expect to be in a foreign planet with blue cat people who were twice your size

Now to you, it wasn’t really weird since you were born on this planet. So you didn’t exactly know what was normal compared to earth

Nonetheless, you loved being in that planet. The Sully’s were close friends to Norm who was your caretaker, and you spent a lot of time with Jake’s kids.

You all grew up together and you grew rather fond of the oldest, you didn’t know how he truly felt about you. But you knew that you enjoyed his company, and felt something a little more friendly towards him

You’d hang out with Neteyam the most, he’d show you his village and you’d show him how things in the lab worked, he grew fascinated of you and how the humans worked

You’d be hanging out with Neteyam or anyone else, and you wouldn’t notice how Norm was observing you

One day, he managed to get you checked by Max who confirmed that the reason why things looked a little blurry, making you squint a lot was not because of anything unusual.

You just needed glasses.

Luckily, the scientists were smart enough to make a pair of glasses that matched you nicely

When you wore them, things looked way clearer and better. You seemed to like them, but couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else liked them too

When you first left the lab with them on, you went to visit Neteyam and he just furrowed his eyebrows at the sight

At first he didn’t say anything, thinking it was some decorative thing humans wore, but he didn’t seem to see anyone else other than Max wearing them

As you were talking, he was just quietly looking at you

“Neteyam, are you even listening?” You said, noticing his unusual look

“Why do you…have that?” He asked

“Have what?” You asked

“This thing” He said, tapping on your oxygen mask, pointing right at your glasses

“Oh, I need them to see” You casually responded, forgetting he doesn’t really get human things

“To see?” He gasped, his eyes widening, “Are you blind!?” He yelled in a worried tone

“What—no, idiot!” You said

“Oh…how then?”

“I can see—just not that clearly, you know? So these help me see better” You explained

His lips parted, nodding to himself as he was processing your words

“Do you…do you not like them?” You asked, your insecurities climbing out

“What?” He turned to you, “No no, they’re nice. I was just wondering why you have them”

“Oh” You said, nodding, not really believing him

But he knew you

“I think they’re cute, I want one!” He exclaimed, his heart warming up at the sight of you smiling

After that, when you’d be at the lab with him, he’d use the advantage of you not wearing a mask and stealing your glasses and teasing you

He was also very protective of you, when anyone would make fun of you, he wouldn’t hesitate to put them in their place

Cause he was the only one who could make fun of you. It was a special thing between you two, none of you would take it personally.

But if anyone else dared to say anything, hell yeah it was personal now

After all, he was falling in love with you, and wouldn’t let anyone mess with what’s his

ok this sucked love u bye

[inkdrinkerworld]

Beefy!james acting like a caring mother for reader who gets so caught up in school and friends and everyday problems and forgets to take care of themselves. I can just see him take such good care of everyone around him but be extra gentle with reader, as if they are a baby.

ohh this was such a good thought baby!! i made this a little angsty my bad. mention of food, allusion to reader having a hard/tough life

it’s hard to accept help from anyone when you’ve been taking care of yourself for so long.

you’re used to doing and giving to other people, that. comes easy- but to accept and be given? it’s difficult.

you’d been running around trying to balance work and school, a social life and being there for your friends and after three months of doing it successfully james could see it starting to weigh on you.

you’re home when he gets in from practice, the kitchen smelling like tuna bake.

“angel?” he calls, worrying his bottom lip as he walks through the house looking for you.

“in the bedroom jamie!” you yell back. james finds you ironing and frowns.

you’ve got dark circles under your eyes, you look a little paler than usual and james can tell you’re unsteady on your feet.

he doesn’t like this one bit, but he doesn’t know how to bridge the gap of taking care of you without you feeling infantilised.

“baby, did you nap today?” he remembers you’d mentioned wanting to take a nap after you got back home- but now he’s not sure that you did.

“nah, didn’t bother with it. wanted tuna bake for dinner and then i did laundry.” you shrug like it’s no big deal, but it is to james.

he takes the iron from you, setting it down and out of the way.

“you can’t go on spreading yourself so thin. you need to take care of yourself, angel.” he says softly and you frown.

“i do,” you say, letting james pull you towards the bed. “i always take care of myself.”

james nods, kissing your forehead, “and you do a great job, but you don’t have to do it by yourself tonight, if you let me help.” his thumbs stroke just under your ear.

you deliberate for some time before saying softly, “yeah, m’tired.” james reads between the words unsaid, kissing you softly before hoisting you up.

the kiss serves as a way to distract yourself from crying. james is gentle like that- offering to take care of you when you’ve done it yourself your whole life.

it makes your belly erupt with butterflies and makes silver tears hang heavy on your waterline.

“baby,” he coos, lifting you off to the bathroom. “it’s okay, it’s safe y’know? to let me do it.”

you nod as he sits you on the counter, “i know, i promise.” james flashes a soft smile, kissing your cheeks as the tears tumble down.

james takes care of you like he breathes, with ease. like it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

he uses your sandalwood and jasmine bodywash, washes your hair with your matching shampoo and conditioner and tucks you into your robe after.

he combs your hair and does your skin care- he even applies your lotion for you.

“i’ll be ten minutes okay?” james says after you’re both dressed and he has some sitcom playing on the tv.

“okay,” before james can leave you grab onto his fingers. “jamie, just wanted t’say thanks.” your eyes well with water again. james thinks it’s a shame, that you’ve been in survival mode for so long and think he needs to be thanked for this- for loving you.

“none needed angel, get comfy okay?”

he comes back with two bottles of orange passion fruit juice, and two plates of food and a sleeve of chocolate biscuits for later.

“alright angel, if you want me to feed you i will.” james gets a giggle and a kiss to his jaw.

somewhere between dinner and laying on james’ chest, you feel the vibration of his words. “you deserve to be taken care of, to get rest and to get everything you want your friends to as well. if you can’t do it, i’ll do it for you- you don’t even have to ask.”

you sniffle, “i’ll tell you more often, promise.”

[nakimov]

Reader is an Artist

Gaahhh I love him. Someone had suggested this idea!

You had been inspired by the late Katsushika Hokusai who recently passed some years ago and his late daughter Oei Hokusai was still alive and made amazing Ukiyo-e paintings. You had used up a lot of your savings to even get one of her paintings.

You had met Okita as kids and lived relatively close to Kondo’s dojo and always went over to watch him practice while you sat near the forest painting him or other scenic sights that came to mind

Okita thought your art was incredible and wondered why you never pursued your hobby. It was simply too expensive to print on woodblocks to produce copies. You solely secretly sold some of your exclusive pieces to tea houses or inns to hang up on their walls.

When you told Okita you were going to be leaving for a while to paint in another province, this has broken him deep down but it was understandable how you wanted to follow your passion just like how he would follow his.

Even though you had written letters and sent him some of your works from another town. You had missed him and it made you curious what he felt about you as well.

You sent him paintings of the cats outside of Kondo’s dojo to lift his mood. He would send you updates on his life and what everyone was doing. Even sometimes hinting when you’ll be back he would ask Kondo to host a dinner party.

It was hard, you wanted to be there for him and support him as well as he does for you. Even when the letters started to become less and less.

You decided to move back to Kyoto to sell your illustrated hand scrolls and other paintings to the tea houses and restaurants. You were gaining recognition for your work in Edo and wanted to return to Kyoto.

It must have been a few months to close to a year. The seasons have changed, and he was certainly out in the back with the men of his division. Yagi residence, the place where the Shinsegumi operated.

Would he be happy to see you? Why did he stop writing to you? The questions were hurting you deep down. You cared about him deeply and maybe affectionately you wanted more. It was hard being away for so long. Yet, did he feel the same? You

You had taken artistry to keep your mind off of such things. It always bugged you deep down and you were probably more sensitive and emotional. Your art was loved by a lot of townsfolk and Souji supported you.

You must’ve been standing outside contemplating and looking lost until you heard someone behind you call your name making your heart freeze and beat faster. Upon tilting your head you saw him standing behind you staring at you. You felt like breaking down in front of him but couldn’t make out any words.

Your mouth gaped open slightly before he ran up to you hugging you. Tightly. It was like he didn’t want to let go of you. “I— I thought you weren’t ever coming back,” he muttered but you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head. You reached into your bag to give him a late birthday present. It was a Ukiyo-e painting on folded a sheet of paper of a cherry blossom tree where you two met.

Okita was teary but wasn’t afraid to show his emotions in front of you. He was happy that you didn’t forget his birthday. He was worried that you had but you two sat outside talking for a while. You had learnt that leaving had broken him too much that he couldn’t respond back sometimes. You decided it would be better to stay in Kyoto in the end and be by his side even if the worst outcomes happen you’d still support him and he would support you.

Note: took me a while to write since this is longer than I thought would be. Next one will be Loki headcanons? Maybe more Anubis or Susano’o.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 6

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

“Oh would you look who decided to acknowledge I exist?”

Steve didn’t hold back his eye roll at Robin’s words since she couldn’t see him. He’d decided to call her on the walk to his car after work, just to update her on things and make sure she was okay if he wasn’t home right after work.

“We just saw each other yesterday.”

“More than 24 hours ago, Steve.”

“We are two separate humans, Robin.”

“But only one brain. Look at you separating a whole brain. This is why I couldn’t concentrate today. You took it with you.”

“Are you done?” Steve sighed. “If you’re done, I need to talk to my best friend.”

“What’s wrong?” Robin’s tone went from slightly annoyed to concerned, which meant she’d never actually been that annoyed to begin with.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be home late.”

Please don’t ask, please just accept it, don’t ask, don’t ask.

“Why?”

Fuck.

“Just stopping by Eddie’s for a bit.”

He was met with complete silence. He pulled his phone away to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped. It hadn’t.

“Robs?”

“Steve. I’m saying this because I love you.” Oh boy, here we go. “I’m worried.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I’m just hanging out for a bit and then coming home.”

“You’ve practically lived with him since Saturday!”

“Okay, just because I slept over…”

“Twice! In a row!”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Uh huh. It doesn’t mean anything except you have barely been home and you literally went to subspace and dropped and probably subspace again with this stranger who did one nice tattoo and suddenly you’re ready to fly to Vegas and forget me!”

Ah. Steve let himself feel guilty for a moment before he remembered her insistence just a few weeks before that he needed to find other friends besides her, be social, maybe find a boyfriend.

Well, now he was doing some of that and she had a problem?

“I’m just enjoying my time with someone new. This is what you’ve wanted me to do forever, right?”

“Not like this!”

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not following your rules for my friendships.”

“This isn’t a friendship, this is some weird sexual situation that’s gonna end up messy and you’re gonna end up hurt. It’ll be Nancy all over again.”

That hurt. Robin had been the one to get him through the Nancy heartbreak, always offering whatever support he needed while he worked through his disappointment that turned into an identity crisis that turned into a bit of a change of personality. She never judged him for his response to it. She was the perfect friend.

Having her throw it at him like this left a sour taste in his mouth and a hollowness in his chest.

She’d never spoken to him like this, not even when they got into stupid little arguments about cleaning the common areas of the apartment that sometimes escalated more than they should. This felt like she was jealous and taking it out on him.

Jealous of what though? She never seemed interested in having an actual relationship, and she was out all the time, leaving him to fend for himself in their apartment.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Steve.”

“Yeah, well. I appreciate the concern.”

Steve hung up. It wasn’t the mature thing to do, he knew that. But he was hurt, and he didn’t want to make things worse by letting the hurt out on her. He would talk to her when he got back home.

They were best friends, platonic soulmates. They’d get past this.

But for now, Steve turned his notifications off on his phone, got in his car, and drove to Eddie’s house.

– - – – – –

He made it inside with no issues, putting the key back under the mat once the front door was unlocked.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket once he was inside, ignoring the many texts from Robin to send a quick text to Eddie.

Made it home. Gonna make spaghetti. That okay?

He was looking around the kitchen to find all of the things he’d need when his phone started buzzing.

Eddie was calling.

“Hey, thought you’d be with the client.”

“I am, but it’s a friend. She’s taking a break. How was the rest of your day?”

Steve didn’t want him to know about his fight with Robin, not when most of it revolved around how quickly he was becoming attached to him.

“It was fine. Um, spaghetti’s okay? I just figured you probably had stuff for it.”

Eddie didn’t immediately respond, and Steve tried not to let himself worry.

“Spaghetti’s perfect. What happened, sunshine?”

How did he know? Steve was notorious for hiding his feelings from people, he’d been a champion for most of his life out of self-preservation.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” Steve was putting everything into being convincing.

Eddie was at work, he didn’t need to deal with Steve’s problems.

“Stevie, did something upset you? Do you need me to come home?”

God, of course he would offer to hurry back. He was so nice and Steve didn’t deserve it.

“Steve. I will leave right now and come back, just say the word.”

“No, no. I’m okay. Just had an argument with Robin. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, sunshine. What will help?”

He didn’t know. He didn’t think he could really talk about it right now. He didn’t want Eddie to feel like he had to talk him through it when he was with a client.

He started to feel worse.

“I think maybe I should head back early tonight. Make sure I see her before she goes to bed.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be done here in an hour. You don’t have to cook anything, I’ll just grab us something on the way.”

“No. It’ll keep me busy. Can I cook please?”

He didn’t mean to sound so whiny, or practically beg, but it must have worked because Eddie gave in.

“If you really want to, you can cook. But I want you to go change into my clothes first, okay?”

Thank God Eddie couldn’t see the redness of his cheeks spreading down his neck.

“Okay. Can I wear your hoodie?”

He knew it would smell like him, and he knew it was soft, and he knew it would make him feel a million times better.

“Yeah, sweetheart. It’s on the bed. I’ll text you when I leave here, but call me if you need me before that.”

“I will.”

“Good boy. See you soon, sunshine.”

Steve felt warmer, lighter, more like he could handle the feelings Robin brought up. He knew if he could feel like this for a little bit, he could easily handle whatever conversation they’d have when he got home.

— — — — — —

Steve was so focused on the sauce he was making, he didn’t hear the front door open or footsteps come through the living room and into the kitchen or Eddie walking up behind him.

He felt strong arms wrap around his chest from behind, a soft kiss placed on his temple.

He leaned back against the warmth of Eddie, the calm he exuded taking over the whole kitchen.

“Welcome home, Eds.”

“Mm. Could get used to that,” Eddie said as he kissed Steve’s cheek, then his jaw, his neck.

Steve was doing his best to stay focused. He was cooking dinner, right.

He started to lean forward, but Eddie pulled him back again.

“Babe, I have to cook,” Steve giggled.

“Not done,” Eddie said against his neck, teeth barely scraping against Steve’s pulse point and causing him to let out a moan.

“I don’t.” Kiss. “Want this.” Kiss. “To.” Tongue.

Fuck.

“You keep cooking, sunshine. I’m just gonna enjoy my appetizer.”

“But I made garlic bread,” Steve pouted, pulling away as much as Eddie would let him. “For an appetizer.”

Eddie pulled away and looked at Steve, blinking at him as if he were confused.

Then he broke out in a huge smile.

“You’re trouble, sunshine.”

And to Steve, that sounded like he was saying something entirely different.

— — — — — — —

They didn’t talk about Robin.

Steve put their food on plates while Eddie grabbed some beers from the fridge.

It was very domestic. Comfortable. Nice.

Eddie insisted on sitting right next to Steve, one hand on his thigh for the entire dinner. His thumb was rubbing back and forth, his fingers sometimes drew designs on his knee, and he tapped rhythms into his skin until it felt like Steve was part of the song.

It was easy.

They talked about their days. Steve gave him the full play-by-play of his meeting with Will and Eddie kissed his cheek when he was done and told him how happy he was that Will liked it.

Eddie told him about his appointment, Chrissy, who he’d been good friends with since high school. He’d shown her that tattooing was a way to love her body when she’d been diagnosed with an eating disorder. He promised her he’d do any tattoo she wanted for free if she went through the intensive rehab and therapy process, and four months later, she came by his shop and became his favorite client on top of one of his best friends.

Steve leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he spoke, smiling to himself as he realized that Eddie was just a caring person.

He cared about everyone in his life in a way that Steve had not been familiar with before Robin.

He cared the way Steve cared, and he made Steve want to show it more.

He made Steve want to be bright in a way he’d never wanted to be before.

Eddie made him feel like he could shine.

He felt the impending rain cloud of leaving his side, though. Facing Robin would be a storm he didn’t want to weather tonight, feeling a bit overwhelmed already from his day of emotions.

It had started so good. It felt good right now.

“You got quiet on me, sunshine. What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”

A lot. So much. He didn’t know how to answer without putting everything on the table, and he knew he couldn’t do that right now. He didn’t want to cry either and that was getting more likely the more tired he got.

“Just thinking.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Anywhere you want is fine with me, sweetheart.”

Steve could tell him a little. Maybe talk about how much he wanted to stay by Eddie’s side. Or how he didn’t know how he was already so attached, but the thought of not having Eddie around was already devastating.

How much he could love him if he was given the chance.

“I’m scared that Robin’s right.”

Well, that’ll spark a conversation he didn’t want to have.

Nice job, idiot. You’re gonna end up spilling your secrets.

“Right about what?”

Eddie’s arm was now wrapped around Steve’s shoulder, hand resting against his arm where his fingers were tracing designs that Steve would tattoo on his skin.

“She said this is gonna end bad. I’ll get hurt. She didn’t want me to come tonight.”

Yeah, that’s not giving too much away.

Eddie’s fingers froze against his arm.

“She thinks I’d hurt you?”

“I guess.”

And a part of Steve believed it too. That was part of why he felt so shitty. Eddie already held the power to hurt him and he didn’t even realize it.

“Stevie, look at me for a minute.”

Steve pulled away, letting Eddie’s arm fall, but quickly finding his hand to lace their fingers together for extra comfort.

“I know this is gonna sound crazy, and it’s okay if you don’t wanna stick around after, but,” Eddie’s eyes were shining. Was he going to cry? “I’ve never felt like this with anyone. I’ve never wanted to spend every moment with someone before you. I missed you so much today, it was like I was being torn in half. I know it’s crazy. I know. But you’re important to me. I don’t know what will happen, I don’t know what you want, I just know that I wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you.”

Steve could feel his lip quivering. He knew he had tears in his eyes.

He was in deep and the only way out was through.

“I don’t know how to explain how much being around you has changed me. Just in the last two days I’ve felt like someone I didn’t even know I could be. Robin’s worried because,” Steve took a deep, steadying breath. He had to be honest. Eddie deserved it. “I jump into things quickly. I’ve always been like that. I commit hard and fast and I end up hurt every time. She was around for the worst one with my ex-girlfriend. She’s worried this will be like that and thinks you’re just using me for the sexual aspect of it. Well, she thinks we’re using each other, I think. And maybe if you were different, I would be. I’m not always a great guy. But it’s just that you’re you. You’re the kind of person who will always get the best me because you deserve someone who makes you feel the way you make other people feel.”

The words just didn’t stop coming.

Steve would’ve been more nervous about it if he wasn’t watching the fondness seep out of Eddie’s pores.

His every movement revolved around Steve’s own, his touches gentle and electric.

His hand was cupping the side of Steve’s neck, his eyes staring into Steve’s soul, even though he’d just laid it out on the table in front of them.

“You deserve to be the best you because it makes you feel good. But if I can help you find that, then I’m all yours, sunshine. As long as you want me.”

Steve leaned forward, resting his forehead against Eddie’s.

He closed his eyes.

His phone started ringing.

He planned to ignore it. He knew it was Robin and he wasn’t quite ready to face her yet.

But he knew if he didn’t answer, she’d worry. Maybe dramatically call 911 to do a wellness check.

He didn’t want to put Eddie through all that.

He grabbed his phone and answered, letting his head rest against Eddie’s chest.

“Yeah?”

“Steve. Listen. I’m sorry about earlier, okay? I didn’t mean that. I’m just worried about you. I want you to have someone who makes you happy, but I want you to be safe and-“

“Robs, I know. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

Eddie’s hands were moving up and down his back slowly, adding pressure to his shoulders where he was most tense.

“Are you gonna be home soon?”

Steve resisted saying that he was home.

He realized he’d said it twice to Eddie; This felt like home. He’d never really had somewhere that felt like home. Even with Robin, he knew they were roommates because neither of them could afford rent on their own.

But here, he felt like he could safely recharge, relax, be himself, float away and find his way back. And he could do it all with Eddie.

“Yeah. I’ll head out soon.”

Robin was silent as Eddie started playing with the hem of Steve’s shirt.

“You could just stay. If you wanted. I mean I have your location and you’ll text me in the morning so I know you’re alive.”

Steve considered that this might be a test, that Robin was seeing if he’d give in easily and not explain anything else.

But Robin isn’t the type of friend to test him like that. She was never anything but honest and straightforward, never would expect him to make a choice like that to win her love. That’s just not who she was.

“I could stay tonight.”

Steve looked up at Eddie, who was smiling and nodding down at him, hands never stopping their comforting movements on his back.

“I’m gonna stay tonight.” Steve smiled into the phone as if Robin was able to see. “But tomorrow, I’m coming home after work and we’re having a long talk. We’re gonna order pizza and we’re gonna drink enough cheap wine to have the worst hangover ever on Wednesday morning. Okay?”

Robin let out a quiet chuckle. Good. Laughter is good.

“Okay, dingus. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You got it, Robs.”

When Steve hung up the phone, Eddie pulled him tight against his chest, letting Steve find his place with his nose against his collarbone.

He breathed in his scent, smiling to himself at how quickly he relaxed into it.

“Sounds like things went well.”

“Mhm. Things’ll be good.”

Eddie kissed the top of his head.

“Let me clean up the dishes and then we can go to bed.”

“No, wanna stay here.”

“Here, in this chair?” Eddie snorted. “I don’t think either of us actually want that, sunshine.”

“Don’t wanna move.”

“How about I carry you?”

“Yes, please.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t exactly expect him to actually lift him in his arms and carry him. But he did.

He had him in his arms like he was a new bride being carried over the threshold, and Steve was blushing from his head to his toes.

Steve looked up at his face, taking in the way Eddie had a near-constant smirk when he was doing things like this. Like he was having fun and liked doing it.

Eddie dropped him in bed, laughing at the ‘oof’ Steve let out from the impact of hitting the mattress and pillows.

He stared down at Steve with that soft look he gave him before. Like Steve was actually making his life brighter, like it was a beautiful thing to have and know Steve.

No one has ever looked at him like that.

“Stevie.”

“Hm?”

“I really want to kiss you.”

Steve gulped.

“I really want you to kiss me.”

Eddie didn’t question it or wait, and his wet lips were against his with a passion Steve had never experienced in his life.

He forgot about everything except the way Eddie’s lips fit perfectly against his, slowly opening his own up so he could lick into his mouth.

He ran his tongue along Steve’s bottom lip, smiling into the kiss when Steve let out a loud moan.

Eddie’s hand was in his hair, tugging on the ends just enough to keep Steve present as his other hand ghosted down his side and squeezed his hip.

Steve could stay just like this forever and it wouldn’t be long enough.

He’d never have enough of Eddie touching him, kissing him, caring for him.

He wanted it always.

He let out another moan when Eddie’s teeth bit down on his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth and lips like he was trying to eat him.

Steve would let him.

But just when he thought he was going to stay like this all night, Eddie pulled away, nipping at his bottom lip one more time before he separated from him completely and stood up.

“Gonna go clean up. Be a good boy for me and stay right here. No touching yourself.”

Steve hadn’t really thought about doing so until he watched Eddie walk away and glanced down to see that he was hard. Incredibly so.

Suddenly, his only focus was on getting relief from how hard he was. How had he gotten there from a kiss?

It was like every touch from Eddie was equal to 1000 touches from anyone else. If Eddie touched his cock, he was done for. He’d embarrass himself beyond belief.

Maybe if Steve didn’t think about it, it would go away and it’d be fine.

Maybe he could just give himself a little touch. Eddie wouldn’t know. It’s not like he was watching.

But Eddie said not to.

Steve had to listen to Eddie.

He could distantly hear Eddie washing dishes in the kitchen, dishes clanking around while the water ran from the faucet.

He could feel the heat of the sweatpants and hoodie he was wearing, causing him to break out in a sweat.

Eddie didn’t say he couldn’t take his clothes off. He just said he couldn’t touch himself.

So Steve removed the hoodie and sweatpants in record time, unable to focus on anything except the cool sheets under him and the hard length nearly poking out of his boxers.

He hoped Eddie would touch him when he got back. He couldn’t sleep like this.

Too on edge, too close to falling the wrong way off the cliff.

He didn’t even register when Eddie entered the room again, his thoughts stuck on how good it would feel to have Eddie’s hands on him again.

Then Eddie’s hands were on him again. They were cupping his cheeks and forcing him to make eye contact with him.

Eddie was shirtless already, straddling his lap.

Steve didn’t care how he got there, just that he was.

He couldn’t help the whine he let out when Eddie’s cock brushed against his.

Oh, he wasn’t wearing pants either.

Steve hoped this was going where he wanted it to.

“You look so beautiful like this, sweet thing. Like I could eat you right up,” Eddie said before leaning in to leave a trail of kisses down his neck.

He paused right where Steve knew his freckles were and let out a small laugh against his skin.

“These are the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

Steve whined. He needed Eddie to kiss them, kiss him, kiss anywhere. He needed his lips on him every second of every day.

As if he could read his mind, Eddie gently kissed his freckles. Steve could feel his smile against his skin.

“Please kiss me,” he let out, needy whimper following his words.

“Am kissing you, sweet thing.”

And he was. Technically. But Steve needed to taste him again, needed their mouths connected so he could feel his breath in his own lungs, taking and giving oxygen Steve so desperately wanted to give and receive.

“Need you, please,” Steve added, as if that would make Eddie do anything else. “Please, please.”

Begging was not what he thought would happen tonight, but his mouth no longer had a filter as he felt Eddie’s hips roll against him.

The friction was almost too much.

Steve was going to cum. Right there in his boxers after barely making out and like, two barely there touches against his cock.

“Love hearing you beg,” Eddie said as he trailed his lips and tongue and teeth down Steve’s chest. He licked at one of his nipples, blowing cold air on it after. Steve shivered, but not from the cold.

“Feels so good,” Steve managed to get out.

He could tell he was becoming more incoherent, his moans getting louder despite Eddie hardly doing anything at all to him. He’d be embarrassed if he didn’t know how hard Eddie was above him.

Suddenly, Eddie’s lips were back on his own. He sighed into it, relief at being given what he wanted letting him relax further into the bed.

The relief only lasted for a moment, though.

Eddie was pulling away and laying down next to Steve.

No.

“No,” Steve said, turning his head to pout at him. “More.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at him.

“That doesn’t sound very polite, Stevie. I can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask nicely,” Eddie sounded bored. Was he bored?

No, he wouldn’t have gone from interest to bored that quickly. Would he?

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You listening?”

“Mhm.”

“Good boy. You’re gonna get on my lap and you’re gonna get yourself off. No hands.” Steve was already moving, but Eddie put his hand on his chest to hold him still. “No boxers. You use your safe word if it gets too much.”

Steve didn’t know how this could be too much, but he was too far gone to do anything but agree.

“Okay.”

Eddie removed his hand and didn’t stop Steve this time when he got up and straddled Eddie’s thighs, the reverse position they’d been in before giving Steve a head rush. He helped push Steve’s boxers off, holding him steady when his legs nearly gave out when he kicked them off.

Eddie didn’t touch him at first, letting Steve find the position that worked best for him and watching as he tried to find the perfect level of contact.

He couldn’t though.

“Oh, sweet thing, you can’t get it right can you?”

Steve whined and shook his head, feeling tears of frustration building behind his eyes.

“You want me to help you?”

“Please, yes, help,” Steve got out between pants.

Eddie’s hands were on his hips, warmth spreading from the place they touched Steve’s skin throughout his body. His grip was strong, nearly leaving fingerprint bruises in his skin. Steve wished he would.

“More.”

“More what?”

“Fingers. Harder.”

Finding the right words was hard. Steve was doing all he could to keep his eyes locked on Eddie’s face, vision going a bit blurry from the cloudiness in his head.

Eddie understood though.

His fingers gripped harder, and Steve knew he’d be done for soon regardless of the friction on his cock.

“You want help getting started, sweet thing?”

“Mhm. Mmm,” Steve was incoherent. He knew it, but he couldn’t do anything but let Eddie have full control.

Eddie used his strong grip to move Steve’s hips back and forth a few times, the feeling of Steve’s bare cock against Eddie’s clothed one nearly enough to send him over the edge right away.

He was moaning uncontrollably.

“I’m not doing it all for you,” Eddie said, letting go of Steve’s hips and watching as Steve stuttered in his movements. “C’mon. You were so desperate for it before.”

Steve didn’t think about how he was naked and Eddie wasn’t, how his dripping cock was getting Eddie’s boxers messy, how Eddie was smirking at him as he struggled to keep up the pace Eddie had started.

He only thought about how he had to get relief and make Eddie proud of him for doing what he asked.

Steve’s hips moved back and forth, rolling down every time he pushed forward so he could feel Eddie’s length against his own.

It was too much and not enough and Steve didn’t know how long he could keep this up.

Eddie was watching him, talking him through it, but not touching him.

“That’s it, sweet thing. Doing so good for me,” Eddie let out a moan when he started moving faster. “That’s it, sweetheart. Making me feel so fucking good.”

Steve wasn’t even registering his own pleasure anymore, only able to hear the way Eddie’s words were getting breathier, moans louder.

“Gonna cum for me? Want you to make me messy, sunshine. C’mon,” Eddie started tilting his hips up to meet Steve every time he rolled his hips down.

It was so much.

There was nothing but Eddie. His voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket as Steve felt the pull in his stomach letting him know he was close.

“Mm, Eddie, Eddie-“ Steve was babbling and he couldn’t stop. He didn’t care. He didn’t think Eddie did either. “Gonna. Gonna be good.”

Eddie let out a loud moan and sat up enough to kiss Steve’s lips.

Steve was done for.

He came so hard he almost couldn’t even feel it, the pleasure making his vision go black and his body go numb.

He could feel Eddie rut against him a few more times before he let out a groan.

He couldn’t open his eyes to see, but he knew Eddie must’ve finished too.

“So good, sunshine. Did so good for me, can’t believe I’m so lucky,” Eddie was whispering into his ear, soft breaths making Steve shiver against him.

Steve felt Eddie moving him so he was laying down in bed.

Then cold air shocked him into opening his eyes and letting out a pained whimper.

“Shhh, sweet thing. Just grabbing a washcloth. Gotta clean you up and take care of you, yeah? You did so good for me,” Eddie said as he pecked a kiss to his forehead.

Steve wasn’t quite floating now, but he recognized that he’d been on the cusp of it before Eddie walked away. He still wasn’t aware of most of what was going on, just that he’d never felt so good in his life and he hadn’t even had hands on him.

Whatever Eddie had done to take Steve apart was incredible.

When Eddie came back with the washcloth and gently wiped his stomach and chest, Steve tried to speak.

“Love that,” was all he was capable of, but it was a start. Eddie would get the gist of it.

“I’m glad. Loved doing that with you,” Eddie said softly as he got into bed next to Steve. He immediately pulled Steve on top of him, and Steve nearly gasped at Eddie being naked under him. “Feeling okay?”

Steve nodded against his chest.

He’d never felt better.

As he drifted to sleep to Eddie’s soft whispers, Steve thought about how he could possibly love someone so much so quickly.

Chapter 7

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[iknowher]

　　𝜗℘　🍹　‚ 　𝐊ISS 𝐌E﹗

　𓍢🌴　sum.　𓂃　what happens when your boss get pregnant, and you're forced to take care of her office in sweet ol' paris? 　𓍢🍍　cw.　𓂃　no smut but does have sexual undertones. reader gets called pet names quite often.. and described as female. emily in paris spoilers (not major) 　𓍢🌊　wc.　𓂃　~2.5k ⠀ ۪ ⠀✿　my note！　so.. this is heavily inspired by emily in paris 'cus i honestly think it's a good series imo

you lived in a suburban area, somewhere in nagoya. you also heard stories about paris— that it was the city of love. the longer you think about it, the more you get nauseous. it started with one phone call. you quickly hurried to it as it started ringing an obnoxious loud tone. you grabbed the phone rapidly, curious on who it was. with a swipe of your finger to the right, you picked up. you still recognized that voice— it was your boss. ‘’hey!’’ she said in a cheery manner, the audio was quite glitchy the more she spoke and some parts weren’t even audible— it wasn’t strange, she lived in central tokyo.

‘’hi? is there anything?’’ you asked in a polite manner, wondering why she was calling at 1 am. you were in the bathroom, getting ready to go to bed peacefully. ‘’yeah— sooo.. i’m pregnant.’’ ‘’HUH? what? when? how—’’ she interrupts you in the middle of your rambling by letting out a chuckle. ‘’silly. that doesn’t matter. but what does matter is i’m going on preg’ leave.’’ she thinks for a moment, ‘’ah… also, i need you to take care of my office in paris..’’ she trails off, not sure if you were going to be happy about it— you didn’t really have a choice. your eyes light up, it was like a kid getting invited to disneyland— but this was much better than disneyland. this was PARIS. the city of looooove. your crowded thoughts quickly disappear when she says, ‘’remember, it’s for 6 months. and it’s no vacation, you still gotta work.’’ you frown, knowing that you’d still have to be forced to partake in boring ass projects. ‘’sounds good. when?’’

‘’tomorrow.’’ your heart basically drops, seriously? tomorrow? dammit— now you’d have to worry about packing in, instead of sleeping like normal. and is it even that good? you’d probably have to learn french, the culture.. everything that comes along with it. wait— hold on. how could you forget? you also had a boyfriend here, in japan. and you’d somehow have to beg him to come to paris with you— but he’s basically a workaholic! you hang up on your bosswithout realizing it, you were frantically calling nanami. ‘’hello, darling?’’ he says in a puzzled tone to the phone’s speaker. ‘’oh. yeah, hi nanami— something supa’ important.’’ you weren’t sure how you’d tell him, i mean… it’s such a big responsibility for you, and for him.. you didn’t even know where he’d work at. maybe the office you were at? maybe he doesn’t even like working there. you were so clueless, but you just decided to say it straight-up. ‘’i’m going to paris. tomorrow. you’re coming with me!’’ you hadn’t realized it yet, but you were begging him. ‘’what..?’’ he stammers, confused what you were talking about it. ‘’honey— you know i can’t come to paris. and definitely not tomorrow.’’ ‘’nanami. this is no vacation— i’m going there for 6 months. for work. my (former) boss is going on pregnancy leave, and i have to take care of her office in paris.’’ you try to explain, not sugarcoating anything.

‘’sorry, i can’t do it.’’ he said in a stern manner, a huge contrast to your behavior. your heart double-dropped. what is this feeling? heartbreak? probably. ‘’and. i don’t wanna do long distance…’’ you furrow your eyebrows, was he.. breaking up with you? instead of responding, you hung up.

who cares? you’d had bigger issues anyway. right?? like packing in for, for paris! oh no.. you were one minor inconvenience away from a full-blown breakdown. you hurried to grab a stable suitcase. let’s not talk about the metallic hello kitty pattern on it. you were sure people were gonna comment on it, but whatever. confidence is key! (damn, you can recite positivity quotes like a song in your head— but that’s not gonna help anything)

you waddled to the closet, to shove as much as you can in your suitcase. are you sure that’s not a bit overboard..? you knew deep down you’d probably be forced to pay a mandatory fee for your fatass luggage. you put other basic amenities in, till your case couldn’t even be shut. is this overpackeritis? if so, you were probably diagnosed with it. you had to take some (a lot) of items, even your most memorable ones! like your hello kitty hairbrush. oh god. we’re not a hello kitty girl, right? even though it’s only been, what, 10 minutes? you felt your hands cramp up from carrying that heavy suitcase to one room to another. it’s good that you finished packing in. you walked— no, jumped on your bed before falling fast asleep. wow, that’s one sure way to get over a breakup… by sleeping it off! ring.. ring.. ring.. you heard your doorbell go off like 5 times. ‘’madam! mademoiselle! you are going to miss your flight!’’ the male.. and presumably french taxi driver shouts from the door. you rubbed your eyes, before quickly heading downstairs with your suitcase in hand. shit! you were still wearing your horrid statement shirt.. and batman pyjama pants? people were gonna think you weren’t good in the head. oh, whatever— you overslept, so now you have to go through the consequences of not being able to dress into something more appropriate. you open the door, awkwardly hiding your questionable fashion choices away from the taxi driver. ‘’hey.. um.’’ you smiled, and the second he turned around, you made sure to step out of the door. (and wow! you now magically have your phone in your hand and passport in the other.) you made sure to lock the door before catching up with the taxi driver. you weren’t sure if that was a weird glance from him.. you stepped in the car, it was probably a toyota. the interior was all-black, but it was still somewhat clean. sure, some dust particles in the crevices, however it was much better than the other cars you were in. (like nanami’s one— maybe that’s a bit too petty...) as soon as you put on your seatbelt, the person starts driving.. a bit too fast. sir, it’s a 25 mph street…! you don’t say anything, just hoping that he wouldn’t drive a kid over. he probably has a driver’s license (you hope), so it doesn’t matter. you look outside the window, before realizing you weren’t gonna see your house anymore for.. 6 months.

hmm.. before even realizing it— you were already at the nagoya chubu airport. ‘’have a good day, madam.’’ the taxi driver smiles faintly before heading off. you turn around, never having realized the sheer size of an airport. and even though it was still early, there were loads of people. tons of commotions in every part of the air terminal. you honestly felt overwhelmed, but you powered through and found the lane you needed to be at. LANE 6, TIME: 06:30 (or 5:30 am for the americans…) fast forward to when you finally arrive in paris. wait, not yet, you were still at the paris charles de gaulle airport. you were getting picked up by someone. he had beefy arms, you swear a vein would pop if he tried flexing it. he also had huge tits, i mean a huge chest. before you could stare any longer, he looked down at you. sure, he was attractive, but also damn intimidating..! ‘’what are ya starin’ at?’’ he lets out a scoff. ‘’hurry up and get in the car.’’ he opens the car door for you, hey, atleast that was polite. you nod, hurriedly getting in the BMW car. it was significantly less clean, some cigarette packs scattered throughout, a lot of dust.. and even a cobweb in the corner. you felt a lump grow in your throat, but you still wanted to know some information about him. ‘’wha.. what’s your name?’’

‘’toji. toji zenin.’’ he clenches the steering wheel. you recognize that last name! it being a somewhat well-known clan in japan. ‘’ah.. why are you in paris then?’’ he lets out a scoff, turning his head around and getting a good look at your face. ‘’cus’ i’m a broke ass bitch.’’ he points to the cigarette pack. ‘’pass me that.’’ he says in a non-polite way. you hesitate, wanting to be petty— but you didn’t wanna get clapped by him (but he definitely could in the bedroom). you give him the cigarettes, there were only 2 left in the red packaging. ‘’and the lighter, idiot.’’ you pass him the rusty lighter, you just saw from the amount of leftover cigarettes in the car that he must’ve been a heavy chainsmoker. he opens the window, lighting up the cig’. ‘’what’s your name, darlin?’’ he looks in the rearview mirror of the car to see the nervous look on your face, letting out a chuckle before shifting his attention to the road in front of him. ‘’um.. just call me whatever.’’ he raises an eyebrow, ‘’anything..? mmm.. so i can call you a whore. got it.’’ he says in an annoyingly sarcastic manner. you let out an inner-scoff. that’s not what i meant…! you say to yourself seriously? whore? you bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to answer. ‘’it was a joke, cutie. don’t take it seriously.’’ he says, putting the attention on the look of your face. he throws the cigarette out of the slightly open window before taking up the speed by a few notches. you soon arrive at the apartment your boss assigned to you. it was located near the office. ‘’ey, what’s your number?’’ you hesitate, not wanting to give your number to a random taxi driver and certainly not someone who nearly called you a whore— but ah.. he was certainly a fine guy… soo, whatever. you speak up, ‘’um.. it’s xxx-xxx-xxx.’’ you notice him writing it down on a small piece of paper. ‘’got it. have a fine day, darlin.’’ he slyly smirks before you open the car door and hurriedly go to your apartment door. it was on floor 4.. you think. you carry the luggage inside just to notice.. there’s no fuckin’ elevator?!

you’d have to carry this up 4 floors… you walk upstairs for what seems like an eternity. you try to open the door, before you hear someone stepping up to the door— huh? wasn’t this your apartment. the door creaks open to a blue-eyed male with frosty white hair. ‘’mmm? who’s this?’’ he keeps the door open by leaning his arm against it. ‘’i.. believe this is my apartment?’’ he looks confused for a moment. ‘’ah… on which floor are you supposed to go?’’ ‘’floor.. 4?’’ his smirk turns into a full blown smile. ‘’silly ass. in france, the first floor for you is the ground floor for us. so you have to go up one floor.’’

you let out a huff that was a bit too audible, because he quickly notices the luggage behind you. ‘’you want me to help you carry that? i assume you’re from japan?’’ he looks you up and down, nearly letting out a laugh when he notices what you’re wearing. you furrow your eyebrows, ‘’yea, how do you know?’’ he puts his hands in his pockets. ‘’pfft.. oh, nothing— you totally don’t have a sanrio suitcase. don’t worry, i’m from japan too.’’ you hesitate, he didn’t look remotely japanese— not to be stereotypical or anything, but he had white hair and horrifying blue eyes. traits that aren’t normal in japan.. or really, anywhere else. ‘’why are you looking like that? i really am~’’ he nudges your shoulder as he carries your suitcase upstairs. ‘’why are you in france, anyway?’’ he shrugs, ‘’cause japan got too boring.’’ eh.. too boring? he wasn’t here for work or anything.. but just ‘cause he felt like it? ‘’how rich are you?’’ i mean, he lived in central paris— the capital of france, usually apartments don’t come too cheap. you both walk up to the apartment you should’ve been at. ‘’rich enough to buy a mansion in every country.’’ a grin appears on his face. ‘’even that may be an understatement.’’ your eyes widen, an understatement? you could hardly even afford to live in nagoya. his comment didn’t even make that much sense, if he can buy a mansion in every country— why would he live in a small apartment then? you open the door, noticing that the apartment is largely already decorated by who you assume was your former boss. ‘’i did jujutsu for decades. basically since i was born.’’ he adds onto his sentence. he walks in your apartment with you. ‘’wow, not bad. it’s hard to buy houses like this in paris. i’m speaking from experience, they don’t like tourists in france.’’ he looks around. you hurry to the closed curtain, before opening it to reveal a view nearby the eiffel tower. your jaw literally dropped. you frantically grabbed your phone out of your pocket to take a dozen pictures of the magnificent view. your boss must’ve bribed someone to buy this apartment— because you could’ve only dreamed about being able to see the eiffel tower so close. you noticed your instagram username.. me.in.nagoya but now you changed it to me.in.paris. you turned around, not having noticed it till now.. but damn, whoever this man was, he was undoubtedly the most charming person you’ve seen.. ‘’my name’s gojo.’’ he looks at you in a way that makes you clench your thighs together. his grin drops in a confused stare. ‘’is there something, princess?’’ he asks. ‘’nothing.. but..’’ you tug his shirt, giving him a clear and bold sign on what you wanted. his eyes glanced up and down, raising an eyebrow. ‘’ah.. i dunno~ we just met!’’ he said in a teasing manner, but you knew he was somewhat serious. ‘’pleaseeee?’’ safe to say your begging did not help. you walked up to the office with a ridiculous suit, even though french people may be fashionable.. you really stood out (in a bad way). you noticed people looking at you in a questionable manner. you hurried to your personal cubicle that was in the corner of the huge building. a woman with a brown bob walked up to you, her look was so serious— and even intimidating. ‘’madam? as-tu besoin de quelque chose?’’ what? you didn’t understand even a bit of french, sure, maybe oui and bonjour but other than that you were clueless. the look on your face said everything. ‘’ah.. no french? pas un autre touriste stupide…’’ stupide? sure, you didn’t know french, but stupide probably meant stupid. and touriste.. tourist.. wait, she was basically calling you a stupid tourist. tumblr isn't letting me write more than this.

ㅤ﹏ㅤ🌸ㅤwork belongs to @ iknowher,, do not plagiarize my works！ ˡᵐᵏ ⁱᶠ ⁱ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ²