#I’m hanging in there but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hard as hell being here. for so so many reasons

[socraticmethadon3]

There’s no running away from your problems at monasteries. It’s the best + most awful thing

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

[daisymbin]

hi sorry 5+9 for seungcheol from the fluff list thank you!!!

of course!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // cheol's m.list

fluff prompt #5: "you can stay over if you want." +

fluff prompt #9: "I didn't mean to fall asleep on your couch."

you sat up slowly, glancing around the living room. the warm glow of the lamps illuminated the space. everything felt fuzzy for a moment, and then you realized you were lying on seungcheol’s couch, his soft throw blanket tangled around your legs. but it was late—way later than you expected. a quick glance at your phone confirmed that it was nearly 3am you groaned, rubbing your eyes.

the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward, especially since this wasn’t the first time you’d ended up here after a late night of hanging out. but you had to admit, you had been exhausted. the movie marathon had ended in a comfortable silence, and the next thing you knew, you were drifting off.

you shifted and tried to stand up, but your legs were still a little stiff from lying down for too long. as you stood, you heard a familiar voice from the hallway.

“did you just wake up?” seungcheol’s voice was soft but teasing as he emerged from his room, his hair slightly messy as though he had just woken up himself. he paused when he saw you, a smile spreading across his face.

“yeah,” you said embarrassingly, feeling your cheeks warm. “i didn’t mean to fall asleep on your couch... it just happened.”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he walked toward you. “you’ve been working hard lately. you looked peaceful so i didnt wake you. you probably needed the rest.”

you met his gaze, his dark eyes soft and kind, and your heart gave a little flutter. it wasn’t the first time he’d been so caring toward you, but there was something about the way he said it that made you feel warm all over.

“thanks, cheol,” you murmured, giving him a small smile as you pulled the blanket off your legs and stood up a little straighter.

he watched you for a moment, his eyes scanning over you like he was taking you in, making sure you were okay. then, his expression softened, and his tone became more casual. “my bed’s a lot more comfortable, you know?”

you blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the suggestion. "what?"

"i mean," he said with a slight shrug, his lips curving into a playful smile, "if you’re gonna stay over, you might as well be comfortable. the couch is nice and all, but you looked a little cramped there."

your cheeks flushed, suddenly feeling more self-conscious. "uh, it’s fine, really, i’m okay here."

seungcheol raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. he stepped closer to you, his voice softening. “you can stay over if you want. no pressure. it’s late.”

you felt your heart race a little, unsure of what to say. you were already over here, and the idea of sleeping in his bed—especially in his bed—sounded tempting, but a little too intimate. but then again, you didn’t want to leave now. it was comfy here with him, and you felt safe in his presence. the thought of spending more time with him, just the two of you, felt so comforting.

“are you sure?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

he nodded, “and i’m not just saying that to be polite.” he paused, his eyes softening again as he smiled at you, his warmth radiating toward you. “besides, i’d rather you be comfortable.”

you bit your lip, feeling the warmth spread in your chest. you had to admit, his offer was hard to resist. after all, it wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy his company. more than that, you’d be lying if you said the idea of lying next to him, feeling the warmth of his presence, wasn’t incredibly tempting.

“okay,” you said, finally giving in.

seungcheol’s smile widened, and you swore you saw a little sparkle in his eyes as he motioned toward the hallway. “let’s get you in a better spot then.”

as you followed him down the hallway to his room, your mind was racing. you had stayed over at his place before, but you’d never actually spent the night in his bed. the idea felt thrilling, like something out of a dream.

you stepped into the room, and it was just as cozy as the rest of his apartment—dark, soft lighting, a comfortable bed, and a calming atmosphere. you glanced over at the bed and then at him, feeling your heart beat faster. it felt different now. more intimate.

"you sure you want me in here?" you asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious again.

“hey,” seungcheol said, his voice gentle but firm as he walked over to the bed, pulling the covers back. “we’re friends, right? just two friends hanging out, and honestly, i’m happy you’re here.”

you nodded, trying to push aside the butterflies in your stomach as you sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath you. it was so different from the couch, but in a good way. seungcheol moved to sit beside you, his arm casually brushing against yours, and you couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at the closeness.

"you know," he started, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "it’s a lot more comfortable here than on the couch. i don’t think you’ll be able to get up anytime soon.”

you laughed nervously, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you looked away. "yeah, i can tell. it’s so much better here."

“good,” he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he shifted closer to you. "i’m glad you’re comfortable.”

you both sat in silence for a moment, the tension in the air hanging delicately between the two of you. you felt like there was so much unsaid, like a million emotions were swirling between the two of you, but neither of you said anything. just the gentle hum of the night filled the space.

finally, seungcheol spoke again, breaking the silence. “you know, if you wanted, you could just stay here... forever.”

you blinked at him, surprised by his sudden boldness. “forever?” you asked in confusion, feeling your heart rate spike a little. surely he didn’t mean that in the way you were thinking.

seungcheol gave you a playful smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “you can stay here as long as you want. i’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. what’s the hurry?”

you stared at him, still unsure how to react, but a soft laugh escaped your lips as the tension in the room shifted. maybe this was just his way of teasing you, but somehow, it felt different. like he meant it.

you leaned back against the pillow, glancing over at him. “maybe i will. maybe i’ll just stay a little longer.”

seungcheol grinned, leaning back too, his arm brushing against yours. "i’m okay with that," he said, his voice softening as he relaxed beside you. "just don’t go falling asleep on me again, okay?"

you smiled, feeling the comfort of his presence surround you. "no promises."

and with that, you both lay there in a comfortable silence, the warmth between you both growing, unspoken but undeniable. maybe it wasn’t forever yet—but it certainly felt like the start of something close to it.

[littlelamy]

Request hehe: Maybe Reader has some trust issues due to past cheating etc. So she is constantly doubting If Rafe is doing something behind her back and it’s damaging their relationship/Rafe is feeling very offended that she could ever think that and leaves very upset. So some self-sabotage on her part.

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! 💗 pngs from @saizun

the tension in the room was as palpable as the crisp autumn air seeping through the edges of rafe's window. you stood by the edge of the bed, arms crossed, while rafe paced near the door, his brows furrowed and lips drawn tight. it wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself in this situation—accusations hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

“i just don’t get why you think i’m lying to you,” rafe finally said, running a hand through his messy blond hair. his voice was raw, teetering between frustration and sadness. “what did i do this time?”

the pang of guilt that shot through you was immediate, but it was quickly overshadowed by the relentless doubt that had been gnawing at you for weeks.

“i don’t know, rafe,” you muttered, staring down at your hands. “you’re just… too good to be true sometimes. i mean, look at you.” you gestured vaguely at his tall, athletic frame, the way he looked even in a simple t-shirt and jeans. “how do i know you’re not out there talking to someone else? everyone likes you.”

he stopped pacing, standing still for a moment as your words sank in.

“you think just because people like me, i’d cheat on you?” his voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made you wince.

“it’s not like that—”

“then what is it like, y/n?” he interrupted, his tone sharp now. he stepped closer, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. “because this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. you keep accusing me of something i’m not doing, and it’s…” he exhaled shakily, taking a step back. “it’s killing me, honestly.”

the tears you’d been holding back began to sting your eyes. you hated how this always ended—with you feeling like the villain and rafe looking at you like you’d just run over his dog.

“it’s not about you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “it’s about me. i’ve been through this before, rafe. i’ve trusted someone before, and they… they betrayed me.”

“and i’m paying for what someone else did?” his voice cracked, and he shook his head in disbelief. “do you even hear yourself?”

you stayed silent, your chest tightening with every second that passed.

rafe let out a bitter laugh, running his hands over his face. “do you really think i’m that kind of person? that after everything we’ve been through, i’d just—what? throw it all away for someone else?”

“i don’t know!” you blurted out, tears finally spilling over. “i don’t know what to believe anymore. i want to trust you, rafe, but it’s so hard. every time you’re late, every time you get a text and don’t tell me who it’s from, my mind goes to the worst place.”

“that’s not fair,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “you don’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. you don’t even try to trust me.”

you wiped at your tears angrily, hating how vulnerable you felt. “maybe i don’t know how,” you admitted, your voice breaking.

rafe stared at you for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he fought to keep his composure.

“i can’t do this,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

your heart sank. “what do you mean?”

“i can’t keep proving myself to you when i’ve done nothing wrong,” he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it hurts, but this?” he gestured between the two of you. “this is tearing me apart.”

you took a step toward him, panic rising in your chest. “rafe, please. i’m sorry. i’ll work on it, i promise. just don’t… don’t leave.”

but he shook his head, his expression a mixture of sadness and resolve. “i need some time to think,” he said, his voice trembling. “i can’t keep feeling like i’m not enough for you when i’ve given you everything i have.”

he turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. the sound of the front door closing echoed through the house, and you collapsed onto the bed, sobbing into your hands.

you had pushed him away. the one person who had always been there for you, who had loved you despite your flaws, was gone—and it was your fault.

the days that followed were a blur. you went through the motions of life, but everything felt hollow without rafe. he didn’t call, didn’t text, and the silence was deafening. you wanted to reach out, to beg for his forgiveness, but every time you picked up your phone, the shame stopped you.

instead, you spent your time reflecting on the mess you’d made. you thought about the way you’d let your past dictate your present, how you’d let your insecurities poison something good.

you thought about rafe’s face the last time you saw him—the hurt in his eyes, the way his voice broke when he said he loved you.

you loved him too. you always had. but you’d let your fear overshadow that love, and now you were paying the price.

a week later, you found yourself standing outside rafe’s house, your heart pounding in your chest. you’d rehearsed what you wanted to say a million times, but now that you were here, your mind was blank.

taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

it opened a moment later, and there he was—rafe, looking as handsome as ever despite the tiredness in his eyes.

“y/n,” he said, his voice soft but guarded.

“hi,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “can i come in?”

he hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let you in. you walked into the living room, the familiar space feeling foreign without the warmth you were used to.

“i’m sorry for just showing up,” you said, turning to face him. “i just… i needed to see you.”

he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “what do you want, y/n?”

“i want to fix this,” you said, your voice trembling. “i want to fix us.”

rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “you can’t just say that and expect everything to go back to normal.”

“i know,” you said quickly. “i know i’ve hurt you, and i hate myself for it. but i’ve spent the last week thinking about everything, and i realized… i’ve been so unfair to you, rafe. i let my past ruin what we had, and i’m so sorry.”

he looked at you, his expression unreadable. “do you even trust me?”

“yes,” you said without hesitation. “or… i want to. i know i’ve given you every reason to think i don’t, but i do, rafe. i trust you more than anyone. i’m just scared. scared of losing you, scared of getting hurt again.”

“you’re not the only one who’s scared,” he said, his voice softening. “do you know how it feels to love someone who’s always waiting for you to screw up? to feel like no matter what you do, it’s never going to be enough?”

tears welled up in your eyes, and you stepped closer to him. “i’m so sorry, rafe,” you whispered. “i never meant to make you feel that way. you are enough—more than enough. and i don’t want to lose you because i couldn’t get out of my own head.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know, y/n. i don’t know if i can keep doing this.”

“please,” you said, your voice breaking. “i’ll do better. i’ll prove to you that i can be better, that i can trust you the way you deserve to be trusted.”

he studied your face, his blue eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

“i love you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “but this has to change. i can’t keep living like this.”

“it will,” you promised, stepping closer and taking his hands in yours. “i’ll change. i’ll prove to you that i can be better.”

he sighed but didn’t pull away from you. “this is your last chance, y/n,” he said quietly. “i mean it.”

“i won’t waste it,” you promised, looking up at him.

for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you, the tension thick and heavy. then, slowly, rafe’s hands moved to cup your face.

“don’t make me regret this,” he murmured, his voice soft and raw.

“i won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned down.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender, a silent promise of forgiveness and hope. you clung to him, pouring every ounce of your love and regret into the kiss, vowing to yourself that this time, you would get it right.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed.

“i love you, baby,” he said again, his voice steady this time.

“i love you too,” you whispered, your heart swelling with both relief and determination.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl l @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[bigtreefest]

A Celebration Just For Us

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You want to celebrate Steve’s actual birthday, none of that 4th of July bs

Word count: 920

Content/warnings: essentially straight-up fluff, kissing, lotsa happy smiles, friend Bucky, time switching between past and present

A/N: This is thanks to the discussion of Steve’s actual birthday from @thezombieprostitute and @peyton-warren. I just love the thought of him having to keep it a secret because of a contract he signed a lifetime ago, only letting his closest family and friends in on it.

I’d love to hear what you think. More than happy to gush with you in response to comments, reblogs, or asks💗 thank you for reading

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

The lights were off and there were guards around the perimeter, ready to relocate any possible onlookers or overly curious paparazzi. Surely the abundance of cars parked outside the complex could’ve drawn attention, but no more than any other gathering, you were hoping. The curtains were drawn shut, tight as can be so no light could make it through, although there wasn’t much besides the flickering flames that lit up your face.

You were crouched over in the corner of the kitchen counter in your small apartment, further cozied by the dozen or so people who crammed into the small space, all here to celebrate your wonderful boyfriend, Steve Rogers as you used your lighter in a frenzy so the first candle wouldn’t melt before you finally reached the last one.

Once you first found out about it, you couldn’t help but bust out into laughter. Steve did his best to keep a straight face, telling you the story as you were leaning against him on the small couch in your apartment a few months after the two of you started dating.

“Steve, why? Just…why? Why did you agree, why did they make you do it in the first place?”

Steve let out a chuckle and threw his hands up in a shrug as he continued his explanation.

“It was in the contract! I just wanted to serve my country. I guess they thought it would drum up more patriotism? I had no problem faking it until the war was over, but I had no idea I’d be around this long. There’s no end to it. I’ve just gotta hide my real birthday from the public forever, however long that ends up being.”

You snuggled into his chest and giggled.

“Yeah, you have been around for awhile. But I’m so happy it led you here. Now you just get to have two celebrations. One that’s small and special, private, shared with friends, and the other that you share with the people.”

Steve smiled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and squeezed around your waist, pulling you closer as you shuffled back into him.

“I’m gonna try and let it slide that you called me old because I love you, and I love the idea of my day being just for us.”

Bucky had come over earlier in the day to help you set up for the small party you were surprising Steve with. Tony and Nat had taken him out for a day in the city doing who knows what, but it gave the two of you plenty of time to decorate and prepare.

Just before guests started arriving, you were putting candles on the cake, only up to seventy-five.

“Buck, how the heck am I supposed to fit any more candles on this cake? I’m not even three-quarters of the way finished and I’m running out of room!”

Bucky looked over at you from his spot on the ladder where he was hanging streamers and smiled when he saw the cake. He was happy his friend had found someone amazing. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get along with you almost as well as Steve. He’d become a good friend over the year or so you’d been dating.

“Um…put the candles closer together? It’s definitely gonna mess up that frosting you worked so hard on, but I guess that’s the cost of celebrating old men like us.”

You smiled and shrugged as you continued on. “Yeah, that’s what it’s looking like it’s gonna be. You think he’ll be okay with that?”

Bucky nodded. “More than okay. He’ll love it.”

The combined flame from the hundred or so candles smushed side-by-side was hot on your smiling cheeks as you walked towards the grin being mirrored on Steve. Everyone around you was singing as you set the cake down in front of him on the counter, watching him finally take a deep breath and blow out the mound of wax that sat atop a cake specially baked in his favorite flavor. There was no red, white, and blue. No patriotism in sight. Just the pure celebration of a man who affected all of you as a person. An individual with an amazing, beautiful, selfless personality, separate from what everyone else in the world saw him as.

Steve wrapped an arm around your hip as smoke faintly rose from the extinguished candle lump and pulled you tight to his side. Your hand went to his hair, idly stroking through it as the friends surrounding you cheered.

“Wish for anything good, Stevie?”

He titled his head up to look at you, beaming with love and satisfaction.

“I know I’ll get made fun of for saying I have everything I could ever want right here, so yes. But I will also say, it’s not that far off.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. He always knew just what to say. You leaned down to give him a peck before you heard a groan from behind you. It was Tony.

“Okay, love birds. We get it. Happy secret birthday, Rogers. Now hurry up and get your thousand candles outta here. It’s time for cake!”

You helped Steve to pull the candles off the cake, holding one out here and there for him to lick the frosting off. He hummed at the flavor, happy you knew him so well and that he knew there were many more special celebrations, just like this, to come.

Bonus A/N: hehehe, happy birthday Steve. Let the man be happy in the modern day. Cake actually sounds so good rn

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles

[omega-e123]

Prequel to this

A week ago…

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Shadow physically swallows his pride and knocks on Amy’s door. The hedgehog was in town, deciding to give himself a break from tracking down Eggman as per Rouge’s advice. At first he shoved her aside, “Don’t tell me what to do” until a few close calls happened while his mind was preoccupied. Now here he is.

No answer. Ridiculous. What was he doing here. Lowering his fist, Shadow was about to turn around and leave until the door swung open.

“Shadow? It’s been a while since I last saw you. What are you doing here?” Amy asked, clearly surprised and confused as to why the hedgehog has sought her out. She quickly adds“Oh! Not that I mind. Come in!”

Amy steps aside to let Shadow in but he stays put. There’s no need, he wasn’t planning on staying long. Shaking his head, he declines her offer. “Rose, I’ve come to ask for your assistance”

“With what? Hard to believe you need my help,” She replies, crossing her arms. “Come on in, I insist. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to be sticking their nose in our business.”

Reluctantly Shadow steps in and Amy closes the door behind him. “So what do you need?”

His fists clenched as he struggled to get the words out. A sigh is let out, “Do you recall when you had asked me if I had a special person? Someone that I care deeply about.”

Pink ears perk up and her hands untangle themselves. “Yeah!! You said you didn’t have one! The closest person you could think of was Rouge, but she was more like how Tails is to Sonic,” Amy exclaims, “Who is it! Oh pleaaasse, you gotta tell me,” She clasps hers around one of Shadow’s fists, causing him to inch back.

Gently, Shadow pries his hand from Amy. “That is only for me to know. How does one go about apologizing?”

“Alright, fine. Keep your secrets, Shadow. I’ll just ask Rouge about it later. So, did you do something wrong?” She asks, tilting her head. Amy doesn’t doubt that Shadow may have said some off putting words that would have caused this person to withdraw.

He looks off to the side, avoiding her eyes, “That.. I have no knowledge of. Their behavior towards me has changed drastically. If it was something I did, I wish to make amends.”

A wide smile finds itself on the pink hedgehogs face. This is perfect! “Well, flowers always makes things better! Just talk to them. I’m sure they’ll be understanding.”

“I see.. Does it matter the kind of flowers?”

“Not really, but I’d go with your gut. I’m sure they’ll like whatever you get.”

Nodding, he thanks her and takes his leave.

✦✧✦✧

The next few days were spent agonizing over what yep of flowers he should get. Hand pick them or go to a shop? What should he say when he sees you? If he sees you.

That’s right, the man’s gotta hunt you down in a city full of mobians. He could call you to meet up if it weren’t for him going straight to voicemail. Maybe Rouge or Amy would know where you regularly hang out? Having Sonic help wou— hell no. No, no, no. No way he’s stoop so low to get that hedgehog’s help. If he did, Sonic would hold it over his head forever. Shadow, only himself, could run around the city looking for you. That would end up taking forever and destroying the flowers. Rouge and Amy it is.

Shadow decided to go to a nearby flower shop. All the ones he picked were the same ones in that flower field you two stargazed at. It was when he really opened up to you. About the Ark.. Maria.. His eyes close, reminiscing that night. The way you two were lying side by side, pointing at the constellations. Originally he was going to escort you home afterwards, but you fell asleep soundly next to him. Brave choice letting your guard down in the middle of nowhere. Shadow stayed with you until dawn, keeping a watchful eye. Every few minutes or so his gaze fell on to your sleeping form. Muscles tug on his lips, forming a tiny smile.

He received a call stating you’ve been spotted at his favorite cafe. Something, something, looked depressed. Immediately Shadow hung up and rushed over. Dodging civilians and disobeying traffic laws. There he was met with your slumped over form, staring off into space.

Flower stems threatened to crumple as he held the bouquet tightly. You are absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.

Shadow marches on closer, reaching out to tap your shoulder. . .

[addsalwayssick]

@rosekillermicrofic || prompt: secret || word count: 778

Something was wrong with Barty Crouch Jr. He liked a boy. All his life he’s liked girls. Now, in 6th year, as a 15 year old boy, he likes a boy. Evan Rosier.

He and Evan were two peas in a pod, as many would say. They were two in a group of five. As Barty lay in his bed at night, crying about liking him, he had a realization. Through deep breaths and barely clarifying thoughts, he figured that maybe he liked Pandora.

Pandora Rosier. Evan’s twin sister. Gorgeous, smart, and fun. Why wouldn’t he like her? Better yet, she looks like Evan.

So Barty asked her out. “Hey Panda?” He asked, catching up with her in the hallway. “What class have you got?”

“Oh hello Barty,” Pandora smiled. “I have transfigurations next. Walk with me?”

“Yeah sure,” Barty said, walking by her. “I wanted to ask you something.” He started.

Pandora looked at him. “Yes?”

“Would you want to go out with me?” Barty asked, looking intensely into her blue eyes.

Pandora flung her long blonde hair out of her face as she thought. “Sure, why not?” She said.

And so they dated. But Barty couldn’t get past the aching feeling of emptiness in him. There was a pit in his stomach every time he looked at Evan, every time he thought of Evan, every time he breathed near Evan. It was miserable.

And if that wasn’t enough, Evan was growing distant with him. Anything Barty asked to hang out, Evan would blow him off, saying he’s got something to do.

Barty would sit in his dorm room at night, knees to his chest, tears in his eyes. What was wrong with him? Boys weren’t supposed to like boys. Something was wrong with him.

Pandora knocked on Barty’s door one evening as he was studying. The rest of his roommates gone at the Ravenclaw party he had blown off to study.

“Barty?” Pandora called through the door.

Barty didn’t look up. “Come in,” He yelled absentmindedly.

“Barty can I speak with you?” She said softly, sitting politely on his bed.

Barty turned and nodded. “Yeah, everything okay?”

Pandora sighed. “Barty you know I love you,” She started. Barty tried to speak, but Pandora cut him off. “But not like that. And you don’t love me like that either.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Barty grumbled.

Pandora smiled slightly. “You like Evan, don’t you?”

Barty’s face hardened. “Don’t say shit like that.”

Pandora cocked her head to the side. “Barty, you’re defensive because you know it’s true.”

“Men can’t date men, Pandora.” Barty hissed.

“Sure they can.”

“No the fuck they can’t. I’m not- i’m not like that,” Barty hastily spit out.

Pandora patted his knee. “Barty, you know what i’m saying is true. Please just think about it,” And she left.

Barty did think about it. He thought about it hard. He raced out of his dorm room, down to the dungeons, and into Evan’s dorms.

“Barty? What the fuck?” Evan sat up from where he was resting on his bed.

“Ev,” He huffed, out of breath.

“Mate, what are you doing here?” Evan sighed. “It’s late,”

Barty was shaking as he said, “Can we talk?”

Evan furrowed his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“I like you.”

“What the ever loving fuck are you talking about?” Evan scoffed. “Don’t fuck around like that Barty. My sister loves you. You love her.”

Barty shook his head, “Not like that. Not like I love you, Ev.”

Evan laughed without humor. “I’d hope not. Considering you’re dating her and not me.”

“Jesus fuck,” Barty hissed before storming over to Evan. Barty grabbed his face and smashed his lips onto Evans.

Evan pushed him off. “What the hell, Barty. You’re dating my sister,”

“No i’m not!” Barty exclaimed. “We broke it off because i’m in love with you! Please don’t make this harder for me,”

“Harder for you? How is this hard for you?” Evan hissed.

“God just- just fucking kiss me!” Barty huffed.

Evan hesitated before taking his shirt and bringing Barty closer. “If I found out you’re lying, I will fucking have your head on a platter,” Evan said through his teeth before kissing him.

Evan hadn’t believed this was happening. The man he has been in love with since second year is dating his twin sister. His life sucks, man.

He would watch their dates, and watch Barty grin at him, wanting to throw up.

He would watch Barty bring Pandora flowers, wishing it was him. It was no secret that he was in love with Barty.

And now Barty was in his arms, and he couldn’t be happier.

[fairyyobrien]

Spin The Bottle Stilinski

- this wasn’t requested but oh my god it’s been on my mind for so long. Hope y’all enjoy, this is honestly my first time writing smut so bare with me please

Warnings: smut. might be cringe. takes place in season 1, oh yea buzz cut stiles ;) some fluff

Summary: Reader and Stiles are ex best friends and get dragged to a party, they end up playing spin the bottle and reader gives Stiles a little treat

“y/n pleaseeee please come to this party with me. It’s the party of year!”

“i don’t know alison.. I’m not really in a party mood tonight..”

“y/n come on look at me, look I know it’s hard getting cheated on.. it’s been over a month, and you know you deserve to have some fun. I don’t wanna pressure you I just think it’d be good for you”

you turn around and take a good look at your best friend, she was right. you deserved this, you may have got your heart broken but you weren’t gonna let some stupid jock get the best of you.

“okay let’s do this! let’s go”

alison jumps up squealing, “yay! lets go shopping!”

“you know dude alison told me y/n is going to the party” scott says taking a sip out of his cup while looking at his best friend.

stiles rolls his eyes “uhh.. cool I guess?” he says slamming the buttons on his Xbox controller.

“we all know how you feel about her”

“that’s all in the past besides me and y/n hardly ever speak anymore.. and she has a boyfriend anyways” he shrugs, eyes still glued to the tv

“um actually y/n is single now..”

“Oh..”

“if i were you i’d wear something really nice” scott implies, making stiles rethink his choices.

*hours later*

you and alison arrived at the party, you followed her to the snack table where you were greeted with Scott and Stiles, she kissed Scott’s cheek.

“hey guys”

“hey y/n you doing good?” scott asked.

“eh.. you know me, always working”

“she’s not lying I basically had to beg her to come” alison playfully rolled her eyes

“hey sti” you smiled. “h-hey y/n”

“it’s been a while since we talked I miss you” you said hugging him softly. “yeah.. me too” he sighs looking down, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets.

after 15 minutes everyone ended up on the floor playing spin the bottle.

the bottle was passed down to stiles’s, he stared at the bottle for a good minute until he heard the words, “Spin the bottle Stilinski what are you waiting on?” he grabbed the bottle nervously and spun. he didn’t even wanna play but scott dared him and he wasn’t turning down a dare.

his jaw dropped to the floor once it landed on you. he nervously looked in scott’s direction noticing him and alison trying to retain their giggles. he then locked eyes with you smiling at you with his usual goofy awkward smile. you smile back slightly blushing.

“come on you two what you waiting on? you guys already know your way to the closet”.

stiles slowly stands up, walking your way leaning his hand down to grab yours. you nervously smile at him and grab his hand. you two make your way to the closet and he shuts the door. you don’t notice the smirks on scott’s and alison’s face as you walk away.

“soo…” stiles awkwardly says leaning against the wall.

“stiles lets talk. what happened with us?”

“what do you mean y/n?”

“why don’t we hang out anymore.. i mean we used to be so close. i miss it. i miss you.. i miss us. our friendship”

“okay I’m just gonna say it. that’s the problem y/n. it was always just “friendship” with you.. i’ve loved you for years and i couldn’t do it anymore so i distanced myself. i’m sorry” as soon as the words slipped from his mouth, stiles looked taken back at himself, he quickly turned around facing the wall and kicked at it.

“stiles look at me” he slowly turned around looking down at the floor. “you’re an idiot” you started giggling. “that doesn’t make me feel any better”. you rolled your eyes at him “stiles, i’ve always had feelings for you”

“y-you what?” his eyes widened. “Yeah..i’ve always had and still have feelings for you”. stiles pressed you up against the wall and kissed you passionately, he was surprised at his sudden boost of confidence. this wasn’t yours and stiles first kiss, you once practiced kissing with each other in the 7th grade, that was when stiles discovered his feelings for you.

the kiss started to heat up, he kissed up your jaw making you moan slightly. “sti I wanna try something” you whisper pulling away. he raised an eyebrow “okay, what do you have in mind?” you get on your knees and unzip stiles’s pants, his eyes widened once more when he realizes. “o-oh” he blushes deeply.

you pull his briefs down and he tenses up and gives out a shaky breath. “stiles i can stop if it’s too much..”

“n-no don’t stop.. i just can’t believe this is actually happening”you smirk at him, “wow sti, you’re the perfect size” you say making his face flush with red and making him hardened.

you grip his cock in your hand and start to massage. stiles lets out a soft moan, “y/n.. please”

“does it feel good?”

“Y-yes” he pants.

“how about this?” you lick around his tip. he throws his head back “ohh oh my g-god” he puts his hand over his mouth to drown out his crys and whimpers. you continue to lick, then move on to sucking. stiles takes his other hand into your hair making a ponytail. he starts thrusting into your mouth, making you nearly choke and your eyes slightly water.

you continue bobbing your head, and begin licking up and down once again. you go back to licking around the tip, slowing down then speeding back up, you begin placing kissing around stiles’s thighs, making him shiver and squirm. you wanted to make sure to give stiles the best head he could possibly receive. you make you way back down to stiles cock, and start sucking again.

“y/n I’m so close I’m-”

“hmm” you hum and he starts thrusting faster, gripping your head harder.

“i’m bout to-” he throws his back once again with the most obvious moan, so loud that the crowd just a couple steps away could probably hear it.

you pull away with a ‘pop’ quickly swallowing. stiles takes your hand into his helping you up. he was still trying to catch his breath as you helped him pull up his pants, you teased him by rubbing his now sensitive cock. he moaned again “y-y/n” you giggled and smirked at him. “come ere” he whispered pulling you in for the most passionate kiss. “god I love you so much. t-that was amazing oh my god. wow. you have a mouth of a goddess”.

“i love you too” you giggle at his reaction.

“y-you know I was thinking I could do the same to you sometime if you’re comfortable with it of course”. Your cheeks reddened, and you felt the heat from your core as the thoughts of stiles’s mouth on your wet p*ssy lingered in your mind.

“i would love that” you say and kiss his lips softly. you both pull away and straighten yourselves up looking as innocent as you possibly can. stiles opens up the door with you following behind. you both walk up to your friends, “hey guys, that was quite a while” scott teases earning an awkward laugh from stiles and a blush from you.

“y/n you ready to go back to my house?” alison asks grabbing her keys from her bag. “Oh definitely” you say yawning.

“bye scott.. bye stiles” you wave and walk away.

“duuuude” scott nudges stiles. “what?” he covers his mouth trying to cover up the blush forming. “let’s just say we all know it wasn’t PG-13 in there” he teases. “i’m guessing you guys worked things out, yes?” stiles looks back up grinning, “oh yeah everything’s definitely worked out”

that night he lied in bed replaying the images in his mind and he couldn’t wait to do the same to you.

—

im sorry if this is sooo long. hopefully it was enjoyable. i really tried! 😭

[pickingupmymercedes]

Even when I said I didn't 2/3 - Lewis Hamilton

A special trilogy part of 1K Jukebox Event

Longer than I care to admit (pt.1) | Even when I said I didn't (pt.2) | When hating you was all I wanted (pt.3).

song: Won't say I'm in love / Les raisons du coeur - Hercules @itsmrshamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: we're building on their story, it's gonna hurt a bit but it's worth it (i hope)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The argument still rings in my ears. It clings to the walls, hanging in the air like smoke after a fire.

I sit on the edge of the couch, staring at the door, hoping—foolishly—that it’ll swing back open. But it doesn’t.

He’s gone.

Again.

And this time, it’s on me.

I press my knees to my chest, wrapping myself in the hoodie he left draped over the armrest. It still smells like him.

Like sandalwood and something warm. It smells like home.

I breathe it in, and for a moment, I let myself feel the weight of it, let it press down on me until I can barely breathe.

You’re an idiot my mind snaps, cold and cutting.

This is what you wanted, right? Space? Congrats. You got it.

I close my eyes, clutching the hoodie tighter.

It’s not that simple.

He’ll get over it my mind continues.

He’ll fly back to Europe, throw himself into his races, his projects. Other women. He’ll be fine. He’s Lewis Hamilton, for crying out loud.

And I can only hope that’s not true. Because of the way he looked at me before he left.

That look. God, that look.

It wasn’t anger, or frustration, or even disappointment. It was worse.

It was resignation.

It was the look of someone had tried everything and finally realized there was nothing left to do but walk away.

He’s better off my mind insists, but the words feel hollow, even as they echo through me.

I drop my head into my hands, the hoodie pooling around me like some pathetic shield. The fight replaying in my head, every word a fresh wound.

The room was almost frozen in time, except for the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear and the soft brush of his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my thigh.

I could feel his breath in my hair, warm and steady, but there was a tension in the air, one I was pretending didn’t exist.

We had given in to the pull between us, tangling ourselves in each other like it could make up for the hours we’d lose when he left.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” I murmured, letting my fingers skate over his chest, mapping the lines of muscle like I was memorizing him.

“I wish you’d come with me” he replied, his voice quiet, like the words had been waiting to escape.

My hand stilled.

He felt it. I knew he did because his fingers paused on my thigh, then resumed their path with more purpose, as if to ease the tension.

“To Europe?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light, playful even. “What, you want me to be your groupie now?”

His chest rumbled beneath me, but it wasn’t the laugh I’d been aiming for.

“You know that’s not what I mean” he said softly.

I swallowed hard, shifting slightly so I could look up at him. His features were serious, searching mine for something I was sure I couldn’t give.

“Lewis…”

“Come with me” he said again, and this time there was an edge of urgency to his voice. “To the races, to Europe. Just… be with me. Be mine.”

The words hung between us, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

His.

My instinct was to deflect, to find some way to diffuse the weight of his words.

“You make it sound so easy,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just pack up and jet off to follow you around the world. No big deal.”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile.

He shifted from my grasp gently, so I was lying on my back and he was propped up on his elbow, looking down at me.

His eyes bore into mine, and the vulnerability there almost undid me.

“It is a big deal” he said, his voice low but firm. “And that’s why I’m asking. I don’t want to do this halfway anymore, Y/n. I want all of you.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. Panic clawed at me, and I did what I always did when I felt cornered—I made a joke.

“Well, if you’re trying to make me your WAG, you should’ve led with that,” I said, forcing a laugh. “You know, the perks—first-class flights, champagne, front-row seats to you in a fireproof suit…”

“Y/n.”

His voice cut through my nervous rambling, and when I looked at him again, his expression had shifted.

“I love you” he said, simply, quietly.

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

“What?” I breathed softly, my voice barely a whisper. Something so small I wasn’t even sure it had even left my mouth at all.

“I love you” he repeated, his eyes never leaving mine. “And I can’t keep pretending I don’t, or that I don’t want to keep leaving you behind.”

My heart pounded in my chest, my mind racing to catch up.

“You—” I started, but he cut me off, leaning down to press his forehead against mine.

“I know it’s scary,” he said, his voice softer now. “And I know I’m asking a lot. But I can’t do this anymore without telling you how I feel. You needed to know.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked rapidly, trying to keep them at bay.

“Lewis, I…” My voice cracked, and I hated how small it sounded.

I closed my eyes, my chest tightening as his words settled into me, wrapping around my heart like a warm, terrifying truth.

But the fear was still there, coiled tight and refusing to let go.

“Come with me?” he asked for the final time, his voice breaking just enough to shatter the last of my defenses.

“I can’t,” I said, my tone clipped, the walls unwantedly going up again.

“Can’t or won’t?”

The way he said it—like he already knew the answer but was praying to be wrong—made my stomach twist painfully.

“What difference does it make?” I shot back, defensive, retreating even as I lay there beneath him.

His jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the counter. “The difference is everything, Y/n.”

Everything.

I press my palms into my eyes, willing the tears to stay back. But they don’t listen, just like I didn’t listen to him.

“You never asked me to stay” he said, his voice softer, more controlled. “But you didn’t ask me to leave, either.”

And there it was. The truth I’d been too much of a coward to face.

Coward my mind hisses, the word slicing through me.

You let him walk out, and for what? To keep playing it safe?

Safe. That’s a joke. There’s nothing safe about this emptiness.

I stand abruptly, pacing the living room. His sneakers are still by the door. The book he insist he’s going to finish sits on the coffee table, Roscoe’s favorite ball lies just by the kitchen island.

This isn’t just my space anymore. It’s ours.

It’s been ours for a long time.

And yet, I keep pretending it’s not.

Two mugs. His and mine. His still has a bit of espresso at the bottom, the kind he insists tastes better black, even though he always steals sips of my sweeter mixes.

My heart clenches, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.

This is what you’re giving up my heart whispers now, soft but relentless.

He’ll thank me one day my mind snaps back, defensive. He’ll realize I did him a favor.

A favor? My heart practically scoffs.

By making him think you don’t care? By letting him leave without telling him the truth?

I grip the counter, my knuckles turning white. I hate this. This endless battle inside me, this tug-of-war between fear and something I’m too scared to name.

Love.

It’s love.

I glance at my phone on the counter. The screen lights up with a flight notification.

His flight.

I have less than an hour.

My stomach twists painfully. He’s leaving.

Again.

And this time, I don’t think he’s coming back.

The thought panics me, it steals my breath. I grip the edge of the counter, trying to steady myself, but it’s no use.

You love him. My heart says, firmer now. And he’s leaving because you were too scared to tell him.

“I was protecting him,” I argue, but even I don’t believe it anymore.

He doesn’t need protecting, Y/n. He never asked for it. He only asked for you to be honest on your feelings.

I sink to the floor, my back against the cabinet, my head falling into my hands. The weight of it all is suffocating.

Then it hits me—clear as the day we first met.

I see him, standing under the dim lights of that tiny gallery. His smile was hesitant, almost shy, as he introduced himself.

He wasn’t the Lewis Hamilton everyone knew—the global f1 superstar, the face on billboards. He was just a guy asking me what I thought of the art.

“You looked lost,” he’d said later, teasing me about how long I’d stared at one painting. “I figured I’d either save you from getting kicked out or make a new friend.”

The way he gently pulled me into his world without ever demanding more than I was ready to give. The way he’s always waited, always been patient, even when I didn’t deserve it.

And then all I can I think of is his smile, the way it lights up his entire face. The way his eyes soften when he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that matters.

The way he stays, even when I give him every reason to leave.

And now I’ve finally pushed him too far.

My phone buzzes again, snapping me out of my spiral. Another notification. Time slipping through my fingers like sand.

He’s waiting for you to fight for him.

But my mind clings to its defenses, its excuses. And what if I go and he doesn’t want to hear it? What if I’ve already lost him?

Then at least you’ll know you tried. But you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

I can’t stay here. Not like this. Not when every fiber of my being is screaming at me to go.

I stand on shaky legs, grabbing my keys and slipping into my shoes. My hands tremble as I reach for the door.

I don’t have a plan. I don’t even know what I’ll say if I get to him.

But I know I can’t let him leave without trying.

I pull the door open and step out into the cool air, the weight of fear and hope both pressing down on me.

And for the first time, in what feels like forever, I let my heart lead.

And I admit. I am in love.

_____________________________________________________________

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[strniohoeee]

Salacious

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader 🦢

Synopsis: Y/N is sexually deprived, and Matt offers a helping hand 😉. This is for the request I got🫶🏽

Warnings⚠️: THIS IS SMUTTY SMUT SMUT SO MINORS BACK OFF.

Song for the imagine: Some Way- NAV, The Weeknd

⚠️This is a 18+ story, so minors do not interact!!⚠️

I think your girl, think your girl fell in love with me

She say my fuck, and my tongue game a remedy

To say I wasn’t yearning for some good, dirty and sweaty sex I’d be lying. I was so sexually deprived, and agitated. I was currently under the longest dry spell of my life.

I haven’t had sex in a fucking year, but before that I was always getting my rocks off with whoever. But as I got older, and craved that deeper connection I was lacking in the sex department.

I realized that in order for sex to be enjoyable I had to be compatible with my partner. Because I would just grab any hot guy when I was a little younger I didn’t care. But every guy I tried to fuck I simply couldn’t.

It was painful, boring and I faked every single time, so I just stopped. I would just masturbate instead, and it was good of course, but man I’m a fucking human and our bodies crave sex.

I was at my worst when ovulation week started. I was a fucking feral animal who should be chained to my bed. Anything with a dick just set me off. I needed them!

Currently I was ovulating, and every guy I laid eyes on I wanted to tear apart. What made it worse was I was hanging around my friends Chris, Matt and Nick. What didn’t help was that they were all extremely attractive, and my mind was just thinking SEX SEX SEX

I had been a bit crabby leading up to ovulation because I was so deprived, and everytime I masturbated it just didn’t feel that good. My orgasms were not as good as they should have been

Currently I was with the triplets, and we were walking around Target just shopping. As we were in an aisle a guy walked down the same aisle, and I swear I almost passed out.

As he walked by my eyes followed his every move just googly eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” Nick asked laughing m

“He was so fucking hot” I said to him

“Y/N….he was the most average looking man in the word, and I’m a gay man” Nick said

“No that man was so fucking hot” I said still flushed

“Control yourself! You’re like an animal” Chris said

“Sorry” I said shaking the feeling off

We got to the car, and Matt was driving, Chris in the passenger seat, and Nick and I in the back.

I was looking at Matt driving, and I swore I was drooling….why did he look so hot driving??

And then Chris asked me a question, turning around to look at me, and he smirked, flashing his teeth, and I felt my breathing get shallow??

Finally I looked over at Nick, and his hands? His hands looked so good….big and muscular and strong… HES GAY WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON! I internally yelled at myself

I needed to be sedated or fucked. This was too much for me.

As we were driving home. My eyes kept darting between the three of them, and disgusting thoughts were playing in my head.

“You guys are so fine” I just blurted out

“Y/N WHAT THE FUCK CALM DOWN” Chris said looking at me

“IM SORRY, I CANT HELP IT” I said back to him

“I’m about to get a spray bottle what the fuck is wrong with you” Matt said laughing and his laugh almost made me moan???

“Sorry yall I’m ovulating” I said back to them

“The fuck is that?” Chris asked

“Right before women get their period we go through ovulation, and that causes us to become to sexually aroused we literally will fuck anything” I told him

“MY EARS” Nick said covering his ears

“ITS THE TRUTH! I’m in ovulation, and then yall are so good looking and then combine that with not having sex in a year….im about to burst” I said kind of laughing

“Literally go fuck something then” Matt said

“Mmm it’s hard” I said to him

The rest of the ride we were just laughing about everything, and Nick was scrolling through social media trying to find me potential candidates

I was spending the night at the triplets house, and I always stood with Matt, so I was chilling in his room when he finally came in to prepare for bed

“Yoo” he said as he shut his door

“Heyyy” I said putting my phone down and sitting up

He came in with a pink shirt on and grey sweats that hung low…real low, and my eyes followed his every move

“What you thinking?” He asked me

“Im thinking I need to fuck someone very soon” I said looking him up and down

“Jesus how down bad are you” he said laughing

“Matt it’s torture” I told him also laughing

“It’s just hard for me to fuck anyone now a days. It never works out” I told him as he sat down on the bed

“Want to fuck?” He asked, looking at me. That immediately sent a shiver down my spine

“Me fuck you?” I asked genuinely shocked

“I mean I’m down to fuck. No strings attached. Just fuck buddies” he said shrugging his shoulders

I mean I knew him, he was attractive and we were very compatible

“Fuck it I’m down” I said crawling over to him

Matt had bit his lip before smashing his lips into mine. Immediately starting a make out session. He had pushed us back, so that I was laying down and he was hovering over me.

He pulled away from the kiss

“I’m going to take good care of you baby” he said rubbing his hands up and down my body

“Please” I said sighing

Matt had removed his shirt, and then mine. Started to kiss me again. Going down to my neck and then to my breasts. He immediately removed my bar, grabbing one breast in his hand massaging while sucking on the other one

“Oh fuck Matt” I said moaning and running my hands through his hair. His kissing and sucking had me dripping. This feeling was what I’d been looking for all along.

Matt slid my pants down, and then removed his pants leaving us in just our underwear

He started to kiss down my stomach to my pelvic bone. He got up, and slid my underwear down. My cunt was soaked full of my arousal

“So fucking wet” he said licking his lips

“All for you. I want this so badly” I told him looking up at him

He got back down, and grabbed my thighs, spreading my legs open, and placing them over his shoulders.

He immediately attached his mouth to my clit, and I nearly flew off the bed

“MATT” I practically yelled. He started his attack on my pussy. Sucking my clit, and licking from my entrance up to my clit. Lapping at me like there was no tomorrow

“MATT MATT MATT UH UH UH UH” I said, barely able to form sentences. Pulling at his hair causing him to moan into my pussy. My heels were for sure digging into his back

This didn’t stop him though. He reached his hand up and started grabbing my boob as he ate my cunt. Licking me up and down. Causing the most disgusting sounds to come from my pussy

“I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum” I said pulling his hair harder and starting to tremble

“FUCK FUCK FUCKKKK” I screamed as I came all over his face. He pulled away, and came up to me. His face covered in my cum

Smashing his lips to mine as we sloppily made out

“Matt I wanna fuck so bad right now” I said after pulling away from the kiss

“Okay baby” he said. He reached over to his night stand and pulled out a condom. Immediately slipping it on

He grabbed my ankles and pulled me to the end of the bed

“How do you want it?” He asked as he rubbed his cock up and down on my pussy

“I want it hard. I want to be fucked so hard I can’t remember anything” I told him

“Like a dirty slut” he said and I nodded my head

Slowly Matt slid into me allowing me to adjust to his size

“Okay Matt I’m ready” I said throwing my head back

Without a second thought his hips start smacking into me. Pounding me relentlessly.

“Fuckkkkk” I said rolling my eyes to the back of my head

“Fuck Y/N…you feel so fucking good” he said breathing heavy

Matt was slamming into me at such a delicious pace. I was speechless. My mouth just hung open as my eyes stood shut

Matt picked up one leg and put it over his shoulder allowing him to fuck me at a new angle

“SHITTTTTT” I said clenching my eyes shut harder

“So so good to me” he said as he pounded into me

He then pushed that same leg backwards. Holding it up as he fucked me ruthlessly

The headboard banging into the wall

“HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK” I screamed out clenching on Matt’s cock

“can I ride” I asked in between moans, and Matt nodded immediately flipping us around, so I could straddle him

I leaned over him as I started to grind down against him

“Fuckkkk Y/N” he moaned throwing his head back

I kept on riding him hard and fast. He gripped my ass, and started to suck on one of my nipples

“MATTTTTT” I moaned out loudly, throwing my head back

“Keep going baby, keep going” he said biting his lip and looking up at me

“I’m gonna cum” I said as I started to grind on him faster

“I wanna see your pretty face when you come” he said waiting for me to look down at him

“Okay yes anything for you” I told him out of breath

I shuddered, and then came as I looked into his eyes with a slack jaw. And soon after he came too moaning my name with a slack jaw.

This interaction became normal. I’d jump on him every night I stood with them. Having him fuck the shit out of me. On every piece of furniture, in every position, in the shower, against the shower sink. EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME

But slowly I started to realize that I really enjoyed our sex because I really fucking liked Matt.

This sex went on for two weeks, until finally after one night of fucking I decided to tell him how I feel.

“Matt I really fucking like you, and the sex is great, but I can’t be friends with benefits when I’m falling in love with you” I told him running my hands through his hair

“I thought I was the only one. Y/N I like you so fucking much, and I think I’ve liked you since I’ve met you” he said looking into my eyes

“Are you wanting to be more than just a FWB?” i asked him

“Yes. I would love to be your boyfriend” he said, leaning in and kissing me.

The End

I hope that you guys liked this one! And whoever requested this I hope I didn’t disappoint🥹❤️. Im almost done finishing up all these requests, but the rest will be up tomorrow💋

-J💅🏽

[thafunkyrca]

The Stressed Feeder and Overfed Himbo:

Back in my first retail job, things were pretty chill and not as serious at this job so we always had a lot of free time to do fun bonding activities inside and outside of work. A few other coworkers and myself were invited to come over for a movie night! insisted that all snacks, foods and drinks would be handled through her as she just loved being host for events like this. I love hanging out with friends and coworkers, even if it’s just for a movie I just like to be around people and have a good time. Day of the party, I was running pretty late per usual and expecting to get there to a bunch of people couch watching movies or playing games. To my surprise, I pull up to her house and everything just looks dark and empty. No cars parked, no porch light on, just nothing. I walk up to the door thinking there’ll be a few people around. My coworker/the host opens the door and greets me very excitedly! To my surprise, there is no one here. And behind her being excited, I can tell she’s stressed and a little sad. But I was happy to be there and cheer her up. Walk in the kitchen to a table of brownies, soft pretzels and pizza! And of course I was ready to dig in. Couple hours go by, we’re playing switch games. I can tell her mood is shifting so I ask “is everything okay?” She responds that I’ve hardly touched any of the food she made. And I can tell she worked hard getting all the food out together, so I went for some more hoping to cheer her up. Each time I got up for a plate, nothing but warm smiles from her. By the time I was heading for third plate, my belly was already full. And I didn’t think I could eat another bite. “Do you even like the brownies? Please eat a little bit more, I made em from scratch.” And how could I resist, they were so warm, rich and delicious, I also just couldn’t bare to break her heart. So I added 3 brownie slices on my plate and dug in. Then after a round of Mario Kart, she got up and made me another plate with a few soft pretzels on it. “I just hate that no one got to try my food but I’m so glad you’re enjoying it all.” I look at her with a whimpering smile as I feel like I’m going to burst. At this point , I’m not even tasting the food. I’m just chewing and swallowing, that’s the easiest way it can all get down. By the time she handed me another plate of soft pretzels, I began to feel my stomach churn. I had to come forward with her. The food was so fucking delicious but I could have another bite, it’s time to let her know and go home. “Hey Eliza, I’m getting a bit fu….” I’m silenced by a slice of brownie that had gotten shoved into my mouth. Looking into her eyes, she didn’t give a shit what I was feeling. After one more big slice shoved in my mouth, she finally spoke. “I worked too damn hard all day making all this fucking food from scratch. So everyone can have a good and fun time. Just for those backstabbers to not even come and fuck me over. But you…you were so kind enough to stay and spend time with me, and clearly you enjoy my cooking. So I’m gonna make sure you finish every last crumb of my cooking. There will be no leftovers, and I’ll brag to those assholes about all the fun that they missed.” At this point, I’m a little scared…but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t turned on in the slightest. And again, her cooking was quite phenomenal. She sat me down at the counter and kept bringing me plate after plate. I begin to feel a bit drowsy and woozy. Chocolate crumbs, pizza sauce and pretzel salt all dripping down my lips. We looked at the clock and it was midnight. “You’re gonna have to start heading home now!” She grabs both my hands and I began to waddle to the door, belly dangling and all. But she didn’t care. As we got to the door she gave me a kiss on the forehead. Instantly melted all over, especially in my trousers. “Thank you for coming over, we’ll have our own movie night again soon!” She smirked, took a look at my overstuffed belly and tickled it with both her hands. Wish I could say I giggled but it didn’t do anything but let out a big burp. She chuckled and closed the door on me.

[just-jordie-things]

[part three] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 3.6k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist

[part three] : "Learning To Lie"

___

“I never thought I’d see the Gojo Satoru get soft,” Shoko’s giggling as she took a drag of her cigarette.  Her shoulders shake and her eyes close as she beams at the thought.  “It’s only a matter of time now until you dye that stupid hair too, huh?” She suggests, blowing out the smoke in her lungs.

Suguru’s head is thrown back in laughter, happily partaking in the tease-fest.

“I think black would be cooler.  Like mine” He says.

Shoko coos and hums in agreement, looking back at Gojo as if to picture a new look in her mind.

“I’m not coloring my hair, idiots,” He mutters, turning away from them and waving a dismissive hand.  “I look perfect” 

Suguru snorts at how humble his best friend was.

“So you admit you’ve grown a little soft spot for our resident (y/n)?” He asks, a muse in his tone as he shares a look with Shoko.

“We’ve always been friends.  I don’t know why you’re having a giggle parade over us hanging out.  I hang out with you guys all the time, you think I’m in love with you?” 

Shoko purses her lips, passing her cigarette to Suguru.

“Yes,” She says, decidedly.  “But I think you like (y/n) better” 

Satoru has to fight the urge to defend himself too much, because he knows if he argues with them too much, their suspicions will only be raised tenfold.

“She’s definitely better company than you two right now” He grumbles, leaning back against the wall.

He wasn’t even a smoker, but when Shoko and Suguru would head off for a cigarette break, more often than not he’d follow.  Sometimes (y/n) would be here.  And when she was, he could focus his attention on messing with her.  Otherwise when it was just these two, they ganged up against him.

Speaking of- 

“Where is (y/n) anyways?” Satoru asks.

Shoko and Suguru share another suggestive look, chuckling to themselves.  Satoru wasn’t sure when they took such entertainment in meddling with his love life, but it was starting to irritate him.  All the looks, and the giggling, it was going to drive him crazy.

“She said something about having to go to a bookstore in town,” Shoko said.  “Sounded boring” 

“Miss your little training buddy already?” Suguru asks.

“She went to town by herself?” Satoru frowned.

“Relax, she literally just needed a book,” Shoko says, taking her cigarette back from Suguru.  “I think she’s capable of a little errand” 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He sighs.  “It’s just weird that she’d go alone.  We all had the day free” 

“Then go hang out with her if you want” Shoko suggests.

“Yeah, then we can talk about you guys” Suguru pipes up.

They’re laughing amongst themselves again, and Satoru thinks it’s not such a bad idea.  Kicking off the wall, he raises his hand in a peace sign and leaves without a word.

He can still hear their childish giggles as he walks away. ___

Breaking into the elementary school once it had closed and the staff had left for the day had been easy enough.  In fact, it was probably the easiest part of her whole investigation, which was odd since it was the first actual crime (y/n) had committed.

Not that commiting said crime fazed her too much.  She was doing this for the greater good after all.

The tricky part was finding what she was looking for.  The filing cabinets in the administrator’s office took up an entire wall, so finding two student’s information was going to take a minute.

She raised her phone’s flashlight and quickly began to read the labels on each cabinet.

Payroll.  Emergency Contacts.  Lunch Schedules.  Event Budgeting.

And then finally, Student Files.

With a grin, she quickly pulled open the first drawer with this label, and went flipping through the alphabetized files.

Just as she found where F was filed, her phone buzzed.

She nearly dropped it from the surprise, before she quickly silenced her ringtone, cursing whoever needed to call her right now.  Didn’t they know she was trying not to get caught literally breaking and entering? 

Well, no, no one did.  Maybe she should have turned her phone to silent before she broke in.

Seeing that it was Satoru calling, she knew better than to decline, so with a sigh, she answered, pressing her phone between her shoulder and her ear.

“Hey!” He greeted her happily.  “What’re you up to?”

She told Shoko she was shopping today.  So she had to stick to her story and tell him the same thing.

“I’m in town, what’s up?” She replied, keeping it short.

“Nothing.  Want company? Suguru and Shoko are being annoying and I kind of feel like avoiding them,” He tells her.  

Her heart feels warm that he wanted to spend time with her, but she bites her lip and tries to find a reason why he couldn’t come see her.

“We could grab lunch.  Or if you’ve already eaten we can get ice cream.  Either way my treat” 

(y/n) smiles to herself.

“That’s sweet, Satoru, but,” She hesitates, eyes wandering through the files in front of her.  “I already ate, and I’m still looking for that pair of headphones I saw online,” 

It’s quiet for a minute on his end, and she hopes she hasn’t hurt his feelings.

“But thank you for thinking of me.  We can hang out tomorrow, or something, if you have time” 

“Sure,” He replies, but his voice sounds off.  Almost rigid.  “Bye” 

With that, he hangs up on her.  (y/n) frowns as she pulls her phone from her ear, seeing the call end and her lock screen wallpaper light up.  She can only hope that he isn’t too upset.

She drops the thought quickly, and goes back to thumbing through the file folders.

It’s a matter of seconds before she finds what she’s looking for.  Fushiguro.

She snatches the file, her face split in a grin.  Victory!

With great haste she flipped through every page, snapping a photo of each one.  Once finished, she carefully placed everything back where she found it, slid out the window she’d so craftily unlocked when she’d broken in, closed it behind her, and left the scene.

If committing crime really was that easy, she wonders why more people don’t do it.

Maybe she’d keep that thought to herself.

As she casually slipped herself into the crowd of people, eyes glued to her phone as she studied the photos of the files she’d just stolen, she completely missed a familiar figure approaching.

“(y/n)?” 

Her eyes darted up, face paling slightly, surprised that anyone had recognized her.

And there was Haibara Yu, with that infamous cheery smile and a wave as he approached her.  He was in street clothes, and a small bag was held at his side.

“Yu!” Her voice came out a little louder than intended from her surprise.  She cleared her throat, and hoped that he didn’t find her acting strange.  “What’re you up to today?” 

“Just needed to get a gift for my sister,” He said, holding up the shopping bag in his hand.  “Her birthday is next weekend” 

“Sweet of you,” (y/n) smiled at the gesture.  “Tell her I said happy birthday” 

Yu nods, and she knows that despite having never met his sister- who probably didn’t know who she was- that he would relay the message.  He was a good guy like that, always putting people’s happiness first.  (y/n) admired that about the second year.

“So, what are you up to?” He asks.

She knows the question isn’t meant to be interrogative, that he’s genuinely curious about her day.  (y/n) bristles nonetheless.

“Just some shopping” She shrugs, trying to be as casual as she could, so as not to raise any suspicion.  

Although now that she thinks about it, and sees his kind smile as he talks to her, she thinks that she could never make him suspicious of her.  Yu was a grade younger than her, so it wasn’t often that they crossed paths.  Only in the halls of Jujutsu Tech, or if they happened to be working out at the same time.  But Yu had always made a point to talk to her, to befriend her and treat her well.  She’d found it endearing, how his kindness poured out of him, even when he was running late and Kento would be pulling him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him away, he’d always bid her goodbye with the well wish of having a good day.

Thinking about it now, (y/n) wondered if he had a little crush on her, or if he was always that pleasant with everyone.  She smiles warmly at the thought, either way. 

“Well, uh, do you want any company?” The dark haired boy asks, his hand raising to the back of his neck nervously.  “I’m all wrapped up, I don’t mind joining you, if- if you want” 

For a brief moment- so fleeting the thought left as soon as it presented itself- she wondered if Gojo had sent him.  After their strange phone call, she couldn’t help but notice Yu had asked the same question as Satoru after all.

She brushed off the paranoid idea quickly.  Yu was too kind to be sent as a spy.  Besides, she hadn’t been so shady in her excuses to Satoru to result in him sending an informer her way, she was certain.

“You’re too kind,” (y/n) flashed a dazzling smile.  “But I’m just about wrapped up myself, I was just going to get something, uh, a bit private, if you don’t mind,” She feigns bashfulness as she averts her eyes after telling him her errand.

Yu’s face drops and his ears turn a light shade of pink, and (y/n) mentally applauds herself for having succeeded in making him believe her little lie.

“Oh- oh, right, of course,” The boy stammered.  “Will you be long? I could wait for you, so you don’t have to walk back alone” 

“That’s alright, it’s my last stop,” (y/n) says, waving a dismissive hand in front of her.  “No need to worry about me” 

Yu nods, tucking his hands into his pockets as he lowers his gaze, hiding the disappointment in his features.  

“If you insist,” He says.  “I know your friends would be upset with me if I didn’t even offer,” 

You’re probably right, (y/n) thinks as she chuckles quietly.

“And I don’t need Gojo beating me up for leaving you out here alone” 

“He wouldn’t do such a thing,” (y/n) says with certainty.  “I’m not a stranger to Tokyo.  And I can handle myself just fine,” 

She begins to pass by him, patting his shoulder in a friendly manner as she does. 

“Have a safe walk back” She tells him.

“Yeah.  You too” Yu smiles, giving her a small wave as he walks off in the direction he was heading before he’d run into her.

(y/n) checks over her shoulder a few moments later, just to be sure that he was going back to the school, and he wasn’t following her.  Her eyes scan the small crowd of people wandering the sidewalks and peeking into shops.  When she doesn’t see the familiar student, her mind is at ease, and she goes back to her phone.

With the address of Megumi and Tsumiki Fushiguro’s home displayed before her, she follows her map. ___

“I saw (y/n) while I was in town” Yu mentions, picking at the box of food before him.

Kento, sat across from him at the table they shared, looked up from his own meal.  This wasn’t a casual mention.  It never was when he talked about (y/n).  It was almost getting tiring, hearing his friend go into that dreamy voice as he shares the most meaningless interaction he’d had with the third year girl.

“That so?” He replied anyway.  Might as well get it over with.

“Yeah,” Yu hummed in delight, the smile on his face was glued there.  “She was shopping” 

So interesting, Kento thinks bitterly, but he doesn’t dare say it out loud.  Yu’s crush on the older sorcerer might have been a bit far-fetched, but he was a good friend, so if he wanted to gush about her, he’d listen.

“Surprised you didn’t stay in town with her,” Kento says instead.  “Seemed like a good opportunity for one-on-one time, hm?” 

“I know.  I offered,” Yu sighs.  “But she was- uh- kinda busy” He chuckles nervously.

Kento raises a brow, silently asking what that was all about. Yu rubs the nape of his neck.

“She said she was shopping for something private” He confesses.

Kento hums, finally turning his attention back to his lunch.

“Whatever that means” 

“I didn’t ask,” Yu shrugs his shoulders.  “I didn’t want to overstep” 

It’s quiet for a minute as the pair nibble on their food.  Yu’s mind was buzzing with thoughts of the girl he’d run into, how pretty she looked in her street clothes, how kindly she spoke and smiled.  His eyes glazed over as he got lost in his thoughts.  He almost didn’t hear the footsteps of a third year approaching the table.

“Hey, you gonna pass out?”

Yu blinked until his vision of reality was restored, looking up to see Gojo Satoru leaning over the table, overly-invading both Yu’s and Kento’s personal space as he grinned at the daydreaming boy.

“He’s fine,” Kento muttered, leaning back from the table a bit to put some distance between him and the overbearing Six Eyes user.  “He’s just daydreaming about (y/n)”

Behind his sunglasses, Satoru blinks, his eyes twitching in the slightest.  But the ridiculous grin he wore didn’t falter as he continued to stare down the younger boy.

(Had Yu seen the jealous look in the eyes of Gojo Satoru himself, he probably would have pissed his pants)

“That so?” Satoru asks.  His voice was steady, almost too steady, and Yu swallows nervously, nodding his head.  “Didn’t know you had a little crush on our little hex” 

Curiously, Nanami eyes the way Gojo keeps his expression and demeanor remain perfectly rigid.  He’d barely moved a muscle, even as he spoke, he did so through that psychotic grin.  It was easy to see through this act.  He wondered if Yu thought the same.

“I- I dunno if I’d call it a- a crush,” Yu stammers.  “I was j-just telling Nanami that I’d run into her earlier” 

That made Gojo drop the false grin on his face, his brows suddenly furrowing.  Suddenly, he leaned back, out of the younger sorcerer’s personal space.

“Just now?” He asked.

Yu nodded his head in an anxious fashion, too nervous to open his mouth.  Nanami had said enough on his behalf to make the white haired sorcerer all too interested in their conversation.

“In town?” Satoru clarified.

Yu nodded again.

“Y-yeah,” He stumbled over his words.  “She was shopping” 

I know that.  Satoru’s teeth grind together to keep him from spitting out an attitude he doesn’t mean.

“Ah, Yu,” He shook his head, chuckling.

His demeanor had returned to it’s usual teasing presentation, but Yu’s anxiety remained on high alert.  This whole interaction was making his stomach churn, like he’d done something wrong and he hoped Gojo wouldn’t find out.  Although, he’s not very sure what mistake he had made.

“Couldn’t have been a gentleman and walked my girl home for me?” 

Finally, Yu’s brain caught up with where Nanami’s was.  This wasn’t anger, he realized.  This was jealousy.

That was much, much worse.

Yu feared for his life.

“I- I didn’t- she was- I wasn’t trying to-” 

“Mhm, of course,” Gojo nods, and reaches out to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder.  Yu shuts his mouth instantly, his eyes wide as saucers as he stares directly at him.  “Don’t worry, I’m just pulling your leg a little” Gojo chuckles.

Yu huffs out a nervous laugh himself, trying to catch his breath and slow down his rapidly beating heart.

Nanami continues to sit in silence, watching the whole display with the eyes of a hawk.

“Okay,” Yu breathes out once he’s calmed down a little inside.  “She just had something private to shop for, I was trying to be, ya’know, considerate” 

The twitch in Satoru’s eye was starting to get annoying.  Private? He latched onto the word.  First she tells Shoko she’s book shopping.  Then gives him some bullshit excuse about headphones.  And now Yu is here telling him a third thing that didn’t match up in his head.  His finger began to tap against Yu’s shoulder, before he pulled his hand off, shoving it into his pocket.

“Of course you were, you little gentleman,” He pulls out his teasing tone.  “But do me a favor, Haibara?” 

“Sure?”

Before he can say anything, Geto Suguru enters the room, calling Gojo’s attention.  The man turns away from Yu for a moment, holding his finger up to his friend, and then turning back to the younger sorcerer.

“Next time,” He says in a chipper tone that seemed like anything but.  “Try to do the right thing, and walk her home, yeah?”

He was sure to lower his shades so that his eyes could pierce right through Yu’s soul.

Yu chokes on air, nodding his head at an aggressive speed.

“Of course.  I will.  I’m sorry” 

Gojo claps his hand on his shoulder one more time.

“Have a good lunch, guys!” He gives the pair a friendly wave before heading back over to Suguru.

Yu’s jaw drops as he finally looks over to Nanami, fear deep in his eyes.

“Why would you tell him that?” He squeaked out.  “I thought he was going to kill me!” 

Nanami shrugged, taking a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully.

“How was I to know he had a thing for her?” He muttered.

Suguru had only seen a little bit of Satoru’s interaction with the second years, but he’d seen enough to know something was up.

As they walked out of the dining hall, he supposed he could indulge in a little drama.

“So, what was that about?” He mused, an eager smile on his lips.  “Not like you to threaten a kid like Haibara” 

“I wasn’t threatening him” Satoru brushed off the comment, adjusting his sunglasses to sit properly on his nose.

“Could’ve fooled me” 

“You see (y/n) at all today?” Satoru changed the subject.

Suguru raised a brow, although his friend was ignoring his look.

“No” He replied. 

The white haired sorcerer let out a huff.

“That what this is about? (y/n)?”

Satoru doesn’t say anything.

“So it is,” Suguru grins.  “What is it this time? She take a liking to Haibara?” 

“He saw her in town” Gojo finally gives him something to work with, but Suguru raises his brows, surprised that his little display of dominance was over something so mundane.

“Yes, well.  Other people who have eyes will probably look at her,” Suguru remarks.

Satoru looks over at him with a dull glare behind his shades.

“Don’t you think you probably scared poor Haibara over nothing?” 

“He said she told him she was shopping.  For something private” 

This explanation does nothing to give Suguru an understanding on why his friend was acting more unhinged than usual.

“You think maybe it’s time to take a break from all these missions you’ve been accepting?” He asks, half-sarcastically.  “I think your head’s gettin’ a little messed up” 

“She told Shoko that she was shopping for a book,” Satoru ignores the comment.  “And when I called her, she told me she was shopping for headphones.  Something she saw online, I guess,” 

Suguru doesn’t say anything this time.  He still thinks Satoru might be overreacting a bit, but clearly, he was having a full on episode over this.

“And then I find Yu, who says she was shopping for something private, and that was why she didn’t want him joining her” 

His brows are furrowed in a knot as he processes all the information he’d just shared with Suguru.  It was all so strange.  (y/n) wasn’t one to lie, mostly because she wasn’t very good at it.  But her shady behavior today puzzled him greatly.

“Satoru,” Suguru stops in his tracks, turning to look at his friend directly.  “(y/n) isn’t a liar.  She sucks at it” 

“Yeah, I know-” 

“So do you think, maybe, she was out shopping for all of those things?” He suggests, like it’s some genius idea he’d just had.  “And maybe she just wanted a little alone time? Maybe she didn’t want Haibara’s company, and that’s why she sent him away?” 

“I mean, maybe, but-” 

“You’re overworking your head.  It’s not good for you,” Suguru chuckles.  “I’m surprised it hasn’t popped right off yet” 

Satoru rolls his eyes dramatically.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to be worried about a friend-” 

“You’re worried about her because you’re jealous that Yu has a massive crush on her” Suguru barks out a laugh.

“You knew that?” 

“Everyone knows that,” Suguru replies.  “But if you’re so worried, if (y/n) returned his affections, don’t you think she would’ve done something about it by now?” He suggested.  “Exactly,” He spoke again before Satoru could begrudgingly agree.  “They’re just friends.  So don’t go around scaring the under-classmen because you got a little jealous.  It’s not a good look on you” 

“Everything’s a good look on me,” Satoru cheekily clicks his tongue.  “And I’m not jealous of a second year” 

Suguru scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head as he turns to continue their walk.

The bastard was jealous of anyone who looked at (y/n) in any way.  Yu was lucky to have his life. ___

taglist: @whats-humanity-lol@malinq-ashida@mor-pheus@bekahtaylorgriggs@pookiea@megumimind​ @thealchemical @pearlstiare​ @niallerhere @96jnie @purpleguk​

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xoxo - jordie

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 2

It's hard not to get close to someone when living under the same roof, something you and Joel learn the hard way. Continuation from Ch. 1 found here.

Joel Miller X F!Reader

NSFW 18+ Minors DNI

CW: Just lots of really soft smut :)

It was surprisingly easy, settling into living with Joel and Sarah. When Joel had picked his daughter up from her sleepover that afternoon, he’d told her there was an issue with your apartment so you’d be staying with them for a bit. She practically tore into the house when they got there, finding you sprawled on the couch reading and tackled you. 

“We get to be roommates!” She was giddy. You smiled. “We can hang out all. The. Time.” 

“Except when we’re in school,” you said. “Because we still have to do that. But then… we can party!” 

“Yes!” Sarah punched the air before flopping on the couch beside you. 

“Sarah,” Joel held up her duffle bag. “Go get unpacked, c’mon now.” 

She looked at you in a way that said ‘ugh, dads, am I right?’ Before getting off the couch and taking her bag down the hall to her room. Joel came and sat beside you on the couch. 

“Don’t feel like you need to spend all your time entertaining her,” he said, looking anywhere but at you. “If she gets to be too much…” 

“Joel,” you put you hand on his knee. “I love your daughter. I like spending time with her. It’ll be fine.” 

The bigger concern you had was spending quite that much time with Joel. You’d become friends in the year you’d been working for him and that friendship had only made you more attracted to him. 

Of course, you weren’t going to DO anything about it. He was your boss, he was 11 years older than you, you were sure he wasn’t remotely interested in you like that. But being around him all the time was going to make it hard to not want more. You could already tell that much. 

For starters, he was oddly chivalrous. The first night you were there, he changed the sheets on his bed and tried to insist you sleep there while he took the couch. You flat out refused. 

“You work a physical job, Joel,” you rolled your eyes, already in your pajamas when he decided to broach the subject. “You’re not sleeping on a couch in your own damn house for three weeks and suffering because I have bad taste in men.” 

“Kid…” 

“Joel.” 

He glared at you. 

“Ain’t right to put you on the couch,” he said. You crossed your arms and plopped down on the couch anyway. 

“Try to put me in your room all you want, I’ll just sleep on the floor.” 

“You always this stubborn?” 

“Yup.” 

“Gettin’ an air mattress tomorrow,” he muttered, stalking off to his room. You smirked, flopping down on the couch and pulling the blanket up to your chin. 

He was also observant. You were getting frustrated with your pen as it ran low on ink as you were studying at the kitchen table one evening. The next day, Joel came home from work and wordlessly put a pack of the same kind of pens on the table next to you before going to shower. If you were sitting outside reading, he’d just be there with a glass of water or lemonade - didn’t say anything about it, just set it down beside you before going back inside. 

“Why’re you studying French, anyway?” He asked one evening as you were lying on the floor of the living room, holding a book over your head. Sarah was at soccer practice so it was one of the rare times where it was just the two of you in the house. 

“Want the practical answer or the real answer?” You asked, lowering the book to your stomach. 

“Real,” he replied, sitting on the couch, watching you. 

“It’s just such a beautiful language,” you sighed. “You could say damn near anything in French and it would sound lovely. Everything’s just poetry when it’s in French. And… well, it’s a pipe dream but I wish I could live in France.” 

“To do what?” He laughed a little. 

“Don’t make fun,” you protested, sitting up on your elbows. 

“I’m not,” he put his hands up. “Just curious.” 

“I wouldn’t do anything,” you shrugged. “I’d just… be. Get to walk around through the gardens or the city or the countryside, eat crepes, drink coffee at 3 in the afternoon at a cafe and watch the world go by. Read everything.” 

“Just be?” He cocked his head a bit at you. 

“Yup,” you popped your lips on the p before lying all the way back down. “Not everything in life is supposed to be hard, Joel. Sometimes you get to just be.” 

You picked up the book and were about to start reading again when he spoke. 

“What’s the practical reason?” 

“That’s easy,” you said. “Schools pay a premium if you can also teach a language and plenty of people speak Spanish, so French makes me competitive.” 

“Very practical,” he smiled. 

“It justifies the student loans,” you smiled back. 

By week two, you’d settled into a comfortable routine. There was the mad dash to leave the house in the morning - you’d started taking Sarah to school on your way to campus, something Joel seemed to be eternally grateful for. You were the first one home in the evenings, your classes clustered in the morning and early afternoons this semester. You took advantage of the quiet to study. When Sarah got home, you often helped her with her homework - her much more eager to do it when she got to do the work alongside you - and watching her favorite shows until you got dinner going just before Joel got home. 

“Keep tellin’ you you don’t need to cook for us,” he muttered one night, stopping in the kitchen to say hi to you before going to shower. 

“This is Hamburger Helper so I’m not sure it counts as cooking,” you replied. “But I’m staying here rent free, it’s the least I can do.” 

He just grunted, leaving you to it. 

After dinner was your favorite time of day, though. There was usually a movie or a board game or listening to a CD with Sarah before Joel put her to bed and you got changed into pajamas and got comfortable on the couch. You’d been alternating movies with Joel - him introducing you to horror movies and you making him watch romantic comedies - every night. 

“Can’t believe you’ve never seen ‘The Exorcist,’” he muttered, settling in beside you on the couch. You shrugged. 

“Can’t believe a movie about a little girl is that scary.” 

He glared at you. You held out a mix of popcorn and Sno-Caps. He took a handful. 

“You get too scared and I’ll turn it off,” he teased. You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m made of sterner stuff than that, Joel Miller,” you said, glancing at him. 

“I’m sure you are, Kid.” 

You always ended the night watching late night shows, something about Leno and Letterman making it so your guard came down a bit. By the time the monologues were done, your head drifted to Joel’s shoulder, too tired to sit up all the way but too desperate to be next to him to ask to go to bed. Sometimes you both fell asleep like that, jerking awake as the show ended and the sound of the commercials grew too loud. 

“Kid, you gotta kick me out if I’m keepin’ you up,” he said as he tried to blink the sleep from his eyes one night. 

“I like it,” you said, too sleepy to edit yourself. “It’s nice.” 

He looked down at you. 

“I like it, too.” 

Three weeks ended up flying by. 

For your last night living with the Millers, you decided to break out the big guns in the kitchen. You got a copy of “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” from the library so you wouldn’t need to go back to your apartment to pick yours up and got all the supplies to make boeuf bourguignon. You skipped your last class of the day to get it started in time, chopping and frying bacon, mincing garlic, combining everything just so. You’d gotten a few bottles of wine - one to cook with, more to enjoy - and even the stuff to make a chocolate cake. 

“What’s that?” Sarah peered into the pan when she got home from school. 

“The one really nice thing I actually know how to make,” you smiled. “Haven’t made it in a while so I figured I’d use my last night here as an excuse to keep my skills up. Homework?” 

“It’s Friday,” she crinkled her nose. 

“If you do it now you won’t have to worry about it all weekend,” you half sang it at her. “Plus by this time tomorrow, I’ll be settling into my new apartment and you’ll be stuck relying on your dad for help.” 

“Ew,” she crinkled her nose again. You laughed. 

“C’mon Sarah, abuse my knowledge one more time,” you said. “Make me feel like all these silly college classes are worth it.” 

“Fine,” she sighed, dragging her homework out of her bag. 

You put the main course in the oven and started making frosting while Sarah worked, occasionally asking you a question that you’d need to come look at her worksheet to help answer. 

Once the cake was frosted, Sarah’s homework was done (or so she claimed) and she took the phone off the hook and out to the backyard. You heard her talking excitedly to her friend as you got changed out of your chocolate smeared clothes and into a sundress, taking your hair down now that the heavy lifting in the kitchen was done, putting a ribbon in to keep it off your face. 

You were settled on the couch reading when Joel came home, stopping and smelling the air. 

“What in the world…” he muttered before spotting you in the living room. “What are you up to, Kid?” 

“It’s my last night,” you shrugged, smiling proudly. “Figured I’d do it up right.” 

“Smells fuckin’ incredible,” he said. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. “Had to make sure you’d miss me when I’m gone.” 

“Dad!” Sarah hung her torso in the back door, phone clutched to her chest. “Can I go spend the night at Lizzie’s? Then you don’t have to drop me off in the morning…” 

“No,” he said. Sarah’s face fell. 

“But Dad!” She whined. 

“No buts,” he said. “That’d be very rude, you goin’ over there with dinner here…” 

“I don’t mind,” you said with a shrug. “Honestly, it’s even better as leftovers.” 

“Sarah,” he sighed. 

“Please, Dad,” her eyes were wide. 

“Fine,” he shook his head. 

“Yes!” She stepped back outside, going back to the phone. 

“You’re a bad influence,” he glared at you. 

“Oh you know she’d be miserable if you told her no and she was stuck here with us old people all night,” you replied. “Everyone will have a better time this way.” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he sighed. “Still don’t like it though…” 

You just smiled and shook your head as he stomped off to take a shower.

***

Joel couldn’t say the real reason he needed Sarah to stay home that night. You were in a fucking sundress with a ribbon in your hair. A goddamn ribbon. And you’d been cooking, the whole house smelled like heaven and you were in a fucking sundress with a goddamn ribbon in your hair and now he was going to be home alone with you all night. 

Not that anything was going to happen. Nothing was going to happen. Not a damn thing. You were basically a kid. He tried to imagine what he’d do if someone his age took an interest in Sarah when she got to be in her early 20s. He’d lay them out. He was too old for you and you were far too sweet and good for him. You deserved something better than him. 

Of course this was all a moot point if you weren’t interested in him at all. But he was starting to worry that you were interested. The movies and late night TV, you happily reading some of your French books aloud when he asked so he could hear what the language you loved so much sounded like on your tongue. You fell asleep against him more often than not, always seeming so happy to just be beside him. He’d stopped denying how he felt about you - he was well past that now. But if you had feelings for him, too… 

No. Too young, too sweet, too good. 

He fisted his cock in the shower, picturing the swell of your breasts in your fucking sundress, the way the goddamn ribbon displayed your collarbones, your lips soft and plump and glossy. He bit his lip to keep from moaning your name when he came. 

He got dressed again, hoping that this would be enough to keep you at arm’s length, at least for tonight. One more night. He could do this one more night. 

“You’re not going to eat all the cake, right?” Sarah was asking as you handed her a pillow. She was already one foot out the door. 

“No way,” you smiled. “Most of that sucker will be here when you get home tomorrow, promise.” 

“OK good,” she looked relieved. “It’s been really fun, having you around so much. I’m going to miss you.” 

“I’m going to miss you, too,” you said. “Thanks for hanging out with me so much these past few weeks.” 

There was a honk at the end of the driveway. 

“OK, go have fun!” You said. “I’ll see you again soon!” 

You stood and watched the car leave before closing the door, jumping when you saw Joel. 

“Jesus, you sure know how to be quiet for being such a big guy,” your hand went to your heart before you checked the time. “Still got about an hour until dinner but there’s wine?” 

“I won’t argue with wine,” he shrugged. 

You stopped and put on a CD on the way to the kitchen - something French because of course it was - and opened a bottle of red wine, pouring each of you a glass. Joel took a sip, savoring it for a moment. 

“I’m not going to pretend I know shit about wine,” he said. “But this is good.” 

“There’s definitely better wine out there,” you smiled. “But not in my price range. This was good enough to drink and cook with, so it worked.” 

“What’d you make, anyway?” He asked. “It smells complicated. Fuckin’ amazing but complicated.” 

“Boeuf bourguignon,” you said, a sense of pride in your voice. “It’s my grandma’s favorite, I make it for her on her birthday every year.” 

“Sounds complicated, too,” he half smiled. 

“It’s… not easy,” you smiled. “But nothing worth having is. That’s what makes it fun.” 

The food was fucking delicious. You sat across from him at the table and the two of you polished off a whole bottle of wine and started a second, both pleasantly buzzed as you sat back in your chairs. 

“I never need to eat again,” he groaned. 

“And just think, there’s cake,” you smiled. 

“You’re gonna kill me, Kid.” 

You twisted the stem of the wine glass in your fingers, watching as the dark liquid sloshed gently in the cup. 

“I have an awkward question,” you bit your lip as you watched him. 

“Shoot.” 

“Would it be weird if I jumped in the pool?” You asked. “By about 4 that water started looking really good…” 

“Not weird,” Joel frowned. “Why would that be weird?” 

“Because I didn’t pack a swim suit,” you winced. “But I swear my underwear covers up more than my swimsuit anyway, nothing sheer or lacy.” 

“Not… not weird.” He said it before he had a chance to really think about it. 

“Thank God,” you said, topping off your wine glass and getting up, heading for the door. “You coming?” 

“Yeah,” he said, body moving ahead of his mind. “I’m comin’.” 

You went outside, the cicadas already howling in the trees. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, like you were soaking it in. It was dusk, the hazy reds and oranges of the sunset catching on your hair. You slid the ribbon from your head and used it to put your mass of hair in a high ponytail before stepping out of your shoes. 

“Promise it’s not weird?” You asked, hands at the straps of your dress. He was watching, enraptured. 

“Promise, Kid.” 

“Not a Kid, Joel,” you gave him a small smile, slipping the straps of your dress down and sliding it down your body. 

He tried not to stare. He really, really did. But… it was you. Your skin, your pale blue bra, your black panties that were cut high on your legs. You didn’t seem to notice. You just folded your dress up and set it on a chair by the pool before going to the edge. 

“One,” you took a deep breath, your feet dancing at the water’s edge, working yourself up to jumping in. “Two… Three!” 

You leapt, feet first, catching yourself before your head went under. 

“Shit, that’s cold,” your arms went over your torso. 

“Could’ve told you that,” Joel shook his head, taking another drink of wine. “We usually wait another few weeks before the first swim of the season.” 

You hesitantly extended your arms, paddling around the water. 

“You coming in?” You asked, watching him, eyes wide. “Or are you afraid of a bit of cold water?” 

“Only because you asked so nice,” he set his wine glass down and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the chair beside him. He was almost afraid to look at you after he did, to see if you were watching him the way he’d watched you. He almost hoped you weren’t. But you were, your eyes running over his skin, swimming slightly closer to the side of the pool where he stood. He took a deep breath and pulled his pants down, too - his cock mercifully not fully hard after seeing you half naked, thank fuck he’d jacked off before dinner - stripping himself down to just his boxers. 

Joel stepped into the water instead of jumping, forcing himself to take each next step down into the pool despite the cold. You were damn good motivation. 

“There, Kid,” he teased, swimming up alongside you. “You happy?” 

“Yes,” you beamed. “Misery loves company.” 

You both swam for a bit, in silence, just near each other, absorbing the sounds of the water and cicadas and your breaths. After a bit, you swam to the side of the pool where you’d left your wine glass, getting half out of the water to reach it to take a drink. Joel let himself admire the way your wet underwear clung to your ass, each cheek perfectly outlined. Like a fucking invitation. 

You took the glass to the side of the pool near Joel and leaned back against the wall, your arms out of the water behind you. You took another drink. 

“I’ll give you this much, Kid,” he said, letting his eyes rove over you. “You know how to plan an evening.” 

“I’ve got skills,” you smiled, tilting your head back so you were looking at the now dark sky for a moment before you looked to him. “Why do you call me Kid?” 

“What do you mean?” He frowned. “I’ve always called you that.” 

“I know,” you nodded. “And it’s fine, I don’t mind it. I kind of like that you have a nickname for me, I just… do you see me as a kid?”

You were looking him in the eye. Your nipples were peaked below your bra, your lips full and tinged red from the wine, the ribbon in your hair reflecting the starlight. 

“No,” his voice caught a bit on his throat. He shouldn’t be honest with you. “I don’t see you as a kid. Never really have. I should though, fuck knows I should.” 

“Why?” You breathed, twisting to face him. Your bodies were close, so close that his skin brushed yours when he moved. 

“Because you’re too young for the way I think about you,” he said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “And you’re Sarah’s nanny…” 

“I’m 21 Joel,” you said softly. His hand slipped around your neck and tilted your head up toward his. 

“I know,” he said. “And you deserve someone better than me…” 

“I’m not sure there is anyone better than you,” you whispered. “Not to me.” 

He tugged you gently to him then, lowering his mouth to yours, his eyes holding your gaze until his lips met your own. 

The kiss started hesitant, gentle. You tasted like wine and cherries and your arms went around his neck, pressing your warm, soft body against his. His hands slipped to your waist then down your back, pulling you tighter to him and your kiss grew firmer, more desperate. Your tongue cautiously dipped into his mouth and he met it, pulling you into him before exploring your mouth back. 

His hands went to your ass - fuck you had a great ass - and picked you up, bringing you on level with him. Your legs went around his waist, your fingers tangling in his hair. Your core was pressed against him, so fucking hot against his stomach. The erection he’d been dodging all evening now unavoidable with you on him like this, his cock prodding against your backside. 

“Fucking hell Baby, you’re going to kill me,” he groaned, kissing down your jaw to your throat. 

“I like that name better,” you whispered, pressing your lips to the side of his head as you held him close. 

“Should tell me to stop,” he kissed down to your breasts and back up the other side of your neck. “Tell me to not want you.” 

“But I don’t want you to stop,” you ground your hips against his stomach and he groaned. He was so fucking close to being buried inside you. “I want you, Joel…” 

He brought a hand around to the front of you, finding your clit beneath your panties. You jumped a little but then relaxed into it, putting your lips against his. He pulled back from you, frowning. 

“Everything OK?” He asked, breathless. You nodded but looked hesitant. “Baby, if I’m doing anything you don’t want…” 

“No,” you cut him off quickly. “It’s just….” You bit your lip and closed your eyes, wincing for a moment before looking him in the eye again. “I’ve never done… this. Before.” 

“Done what.” 

“Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned, dropping your head to his shoulder and pressing a kiss into him there. His eyes went wide. 

“You’re a virgin…” 

“Yeah,” you cut him off, lifting your head to look at him again. “If it’s too weird, that’s OK, I get it and I shouldn’t have said anything at all…” 

“Just surprised is all,” he managed eventually. “Not weird, Baby. Just maybe we should rethink…” 

“No,” you shook your head, pressing yourself tighter to him. “I want you, Joel.”

He slipped his fingers down your slit, teasing you, rubbing you. 

“You tell me if anything I do hurts and we stop,” he said gently and you nodded, kissing him again. 

He took his time with you, teasing your body open, slipping one finger inside you. You groaned, your walls clenching around him as he pressed deeper. Fuck, you were tight. It was a wonder his cock wasn’t ripping his boxers he was so hard. 

“Anyone ever done this before?” He asked, breathless as he worked his finger in and out of you, teasing your clit. 

“No,” you groaned. “Just you…” 

Just him. Fuck he loved hearing you say that, knowing some of those stupid boys you’d dated had never made it this far, never gotten their dirty hands on you. They’d have manhandled you, taken their own pleasure from you without worrying about yours. That was his justification. You deserved better, someone who knew and cared enough to take care of you, made sure he didn’t hurt you. He could be that for you. 

He slipped another finger into you, feeling you stretch around him as you moaned, working your hips against him. 

“You’re doing so well Baby,” he kissed your neck. “Want to make you cum first, that will help, think you can do that?” 

“Yeah,” you were breathless, clinging to him, working your hips against his fingers. 

He curved his fingers up against your inner wall, pressing into you, making you gasp in shock. 

“Have you ever done this, Baby?” He pulled back from you, searching your face, your pupils blown, cheeks red with want. 

“Not… inside myself,” your blush deepened. “Never…. Fuck…” he pressed into your clit harder and smiled, giving you a chance to focus. “Never needed inside, outside was…. Joel, fuck… outside was plenty.” 

He kissed your temple and down your cheek to your mouth, tasting you again. He added a third finger and you shuddered into his mouth, your pussy stretching over his intrusion. 

“That too much for you, Sweetheart?” He asked, barely pulling his lips from yours. 

“N…no…” you managed, rocking your hips against him. “Feels… good…” 

He plunged deeper, stretching you further, pressing into your clit as you got tighter and tighter around him. 

“It’s OK Baby, just cum for me,” he breathed, holding you close. “Just cum, you know you want to, need to. I’ve got you, it’s OK.” 

“Joel,” you whimpered, your grip on his body and fingers tightening as he felt you come apart around him. You went limp, body sagging against his in the water as you gasped for breath. He just cradled you close, stroking your hair. 

“We don’t have to do anything else Baby,” he said eventually, voice gentle. 

“But I want you,” you said, lips brushing his neck. “I want you to be my first, I want to feel you inside me….” 

“If you want me to stop,” he said, pulling his fingers from you and tucking your underwear to the side. “Then tell me to stop.” 

You nodded, taking a deep breath. He adjusted your bodies and freed his cock, lining himself up with your warm entrance. He pressed his tip into you, his forehead dropping to yours. Fuck, you were already gripping him so well and he wasn’t even really in you yet. He pulled you down a bit, sliding into you further. You sucked in a breath as the first two inches of him sank into you. 

“You OK?” He asked. You nodded quickly, kissing him. You started pressing your hips down on him, trying to pull him deeper. He obliged, holding your hips and driving himself into you. It was so hard to hold back from just taking you, you felt so fucking good around him, so tight he had to work for every fraction of every inch. He bottomed out in you just as his hips met yours, his cock against every part of your insides. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this close to another person. He’d dated, of course, since Sarah’s mom had left, but nothing had stuck. He’d fuck someone and get it out of his system. There was no risk of that with you. One taste and he was certain he’d be wanting you for the rest of fucking time. 

“You feel…” you gasped, your fingers running through his hair. “God, so good. So so good. Didn’t know how good…” 

He kissed you, pressing himself against your back wall as he did, making you moan. 

“Need you to move, Joel,” you managed, pulling your mouth back from his. “Need to feel you…” 

He nodded against you and started to withdraw from you, going just halfway at first before easing back in. He started slow, gentle, focusing on finding the places inside you that made you grip him tighter and moan his name. 

But then he couldn’t hold himself back, leveraging you up and down his shaft as he fucked into you, feeling you open for him with each and every exquisite stroke, your body welcoming him and holding him tight. 

“Want to feel you cum like this,” he said, pressing a thumb into your clit. “Tell me what you need Baby…” 

“Keep doing that…” you pressed yourself down against him. “Fuck, so close…” 

It didn’t take long for you to finish again, your body trembling around him, feeling so fucking incredible around his cock. 

“Where do you want me to finish?” He managed to gasp out. 

“Inside,” you moaned. “I’m on the pill, please…” 

Joel didn’t need to be told twice, pressing himself as far into you as he could reach and cumming, hard, pulse after pulse filling your wrung-out body. He held you tighter, leaning against the wall of the pool to stay on his feet. 

Fuck, he was in trouble.

[notti-stellate]

Fated Mates pt.2

a/n: here's part two, I really like this so I hope you do too!

pt.1

Your pov

“Jasper’s gonna be here soon, I better go finish cleaning up before he gets here” I sighed to my friend. She demanded that we facetime before he came over so I could tell her all about him.

“Okay just remember to get his favorite color, I have to start planning the wedding.” She smiled. I was about to yell at her when I heard Jasper’s truck pull up. Checking the mirror one last time I ran down stairs to open the door.

He smiled at me when I opened the door, “Hi”

“Hey, come on in” I chirped

Jasper’s pov

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified walking to her door. I was absolutely petrified but according to Alice that was normal. The second she opened the door with that beautiful smile on her face all of my nervousness was replaced with something else, something I often felt radiating off of Edward when Bella entered a room. 

If anything could make my cold heart beat again it’d be her, I’m sure of it. My attempts to stop the “butterflies” as Alice called them, were all failing as she led me into her living room.

“So what book should we do for our project” I asked as we sat on the couch

“What about The Vampire Diaries?” She replied fairly quickly, “Have you read them?”

“Yes I have” I laughed, I actually read them not long after they started gaining popularity. I like to keep up with what people think about vampires, and Alice loves reading romances so I get forced to read them anyways.

As we started working I found myself watching her more than focusing on the actual work. I watch as she glides the scissors through the black sheet of paper, the way she cocks her head ever so slightly when she focuses on getting the edges perfect. Everything about her made me fall more in love. I wasn’t sure it was real when Alice talked endlessly about falling in love, but watching her was enough to make me believe everything Alice had rambled about in the past few decades.

Hours passed by with occasional conversation here and there, but mostly we filled it with a comfortable silence. It wasn’t awkward to be around her like when I had first saw her in class, it was easy, almost like we had known each other all our lives.

By the time the sun had set completely, we had almost finished the project completely. I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that I no longer had an excuse to see her more. 

“Would you wanna hang out again soon? Like Friday?” She blurted as we walked to the door.

“I’d love to,” I said, a little quicker than I would’ve liked, “It’s a date”

“A date” She beamed up at me, opening the front door.

I couldn’t hide my smile as I started the drive back home.

Your pov

“Oh my god” I squealed, facetime my friend again, “we’re going on a date. Emmy, a real date!” 

“What?” She yelled, clapping her hands in excitement, “when?”

“Friday”

“No way”

“I’m serious”

“I want all the gory details”

I spent the next three hours on the phone with her, going over every detail of the night up until the moment I called her. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited” She laughed

“Me too, god I can’t believe he actually said yes. I was fully expecting a hard no.” I sighed, my cheeks were starting to hurt from how much I’ve been smiling. I can’t stop this feeling in my chest, screaming to be near him again. 

“Is it possible for me to be in love already?” I asked, my eyes widening as I fully processed what I had actually said.

“Absolutely, and from the way you were talking about him I’d be surprised if you weren’t” She smiled, “My best friend, finally in love.”

Oh my god, I’m in love with Jasper

[crybabycinna]

Makeup

Lin Beifong x fem reader

This was a request I got! Fem reader dresses Lin up and does her makeup all girly. I’m still working on the kuvira vs Lin one I’m trying to figure out what to do I kinda know what I want to do it’s probably gonna be a quick mini series but don’t think I forgot I’ve literally been moving 😭 well I’m moved into my house now but now I gotta put shit away and I’m trying to figure out where to put stuff and blah blah it’s a fucking mess anyways! On to the story!

I was looking around for Lin but I couldn’t find her till I heard groaning coming from a room. I sighed. I already knew what she was doing. I opened the door and saw Lin working out. “Linny really?” I asked and placed my hands on my hips. She was in her tank top lifting weights. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t turned on but now is not the time! Lin sighed and put the weights down. I walked over to her and poked her chest. “We have to get ready. Now let’s get you in the shower.” I said then turned away from her and walked towards the door. I heard Lin coming behind me mumbling a bunch of incoherent nonsense to me. She’s being a baby. She promised Su she’d dress up for this party but not the way Lin normally does. No suit and tie for her and again I’d be lying if I said seeing Lin in a suit and tie didn’t do anything to me. Drove me up a wall. Lin has to wear a dress and makeup! I was tasked with finding her dress and makeup. Su was gonna do her hair.

We got to the room and Lin was still folding her arms. “Linny you promised Su.” I told her. “I know, I know. Let’s get this over with.” Lin grumbled as she sat down on the bed. “Ok let me show you the dress I picked for you.” I told her and went into the closet. I grabbed the dress and stepped out the closet to show Lin the dress. I held it up for her. “What do we think?” I asked her. I was holding up a long black dress. It was backless and it had light silver chains hanging on the back. The dress straps were basic. I didn't want to constrict her to the dress and plus I want her to show off her muscles! She works hard. She's gotta show em off. “I like it. You picked well.” Lin said. I looked at her and she was nodding her head in approval. I smiled. “Yay!” I squealed. She playfully rolls her eyes. “Now go shower, I'll wait.” I told her. Lin nodded then went into the bathroom.

I laid the dress down gently then set up the vanity. I made sure I had everything for Lin. After a while Lin came out in a robe and I smiled. “Did you wash your face?” I asked her. She shook her head. “Let’s wash your face then moisturize.” I told her and dragged her back into the bathroom. Lin nodded and I let her use my face wash. After she washed her face I pat dried her face then I let her use your fancy moisturizer as she likes to call it. Once that was done I took her to the vanity and I sat her down so I could do her makeup. I primed her face, used concealer, and skin tint because it’s a bit lighter and her face doesn’t need a lot of coverage. I didn’t bother to contour because she’s already got good bone structure so just a bit of bronzer to bring color to her face. Once that was done I did light blush. I didn’t want to add too much to her face like I do myself.

When I finished it was time to do eyeliner. I was trying to figure out how to find a good position to do her eyeliner. “Fuck, ok I’m gonna have to get up and personal.” I told her and sat on her lap. Lin opened her eyes and looked at me. “I’m sorry I gotta get this eyeliner done.” I said. Lin nodded then relaxed and pulled me closer to her. “Thank you for cooperating.” I said and started to do her eyeliner. I did a simple small wing, nothing crazy and I did my best to copy the same wing on her right eye. I closed the eyeliner pen then put it down and cupped Lin’s face and looked at her. Turning her face from side to side to make sure the eyeliner looked good.

Lin opened her eyes. “Close your eyes.” I told her. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Ok I think it looks good.” I said. “Can I look at myself now?” Lin asked. “No! I’m not done yet jeez.” I said. She groaned. “Be patient.” I told her. Lin sighed and patted my thighs. I laughed. I turned to grab my eye shadow palette and brushes. It was a basic brown palette. Just to bring a little warmth to her eyes after I finished I grabbed my lash tray and glue. I put glue on the left lash then let it dry a bit. Once it was semi dry I put the left lash on her left eye. It was a simple lash, nothing dramatic but it would work really well with her eyes. I did the same to the right lash then cupped Lin’s face and turned it from side to side. “Looking good.” I mumbled. I then grabbed my setting spray.

“Keep ya eyes and mouth close.” I told her. Lin nodded and then I sprayed her face with setting spray. Once I was done Lin coughed. “Is that fucking hair spray?” Lin asked. “Probably but it keeps your makeup together.” I said. Lin sighed. I looked at her face again then smiled. “Perfect.” I said. I grabbed a little mirror and gave it to Lin. She looked at herself. “Hmm pretty good.” Lin said and nodded her head. “You like it?” I asked. “I do but I know I won’t be as pretty as you.” Lin said, stroking my cheek. The door opened. “Hey…am I interrupting something?” Su asked. “Oh no. I just finished up her makeup. She’s all yours.” I told Su and got up from Lin’s lap. Su nodded and I left the room to go to mine. My heart was racing. I got to my room and started getting ready. I did my makeup then got dressed. By the time I finished I heard a knock at my door.

“Come in.” I said. My door opened and it was Lin. “Oh Lin! You look beautiful.” I said and walked over to her. “Thank you but I will never do this again.” Lin said. “Oh come on! You look stunning.” I said. “I do but this isn’t my style and you know it.” Lin said. “I know but you look so pretty.” I said. “You look beautiful.” Lin said. “Thank you.” I said. “Let’s get this party over with.” Lin said and held out her hand to me. I took her hand and my heart melted. I let her lead me into the party. Mako and Bolin were shocked to see Lin all dressed up. “Wow Chief!” Bolin exclaimed. “You look great, Chief.” Mako said. “Thank you.” Lin said. As the night went on Lin and I drank and danced the night away. I was having the best night of my life with her. The party was still going but Lin and I decided we were over it and went back to her room making out.

When we got into her room she locked the door and tossed me onto the bed. Lin started taking off her dress and I sat up to take off my dress. Lin climbed on top of me and we went back to making out. “You know since you’re so pretty and feminine you wanna try without the strap?” I teasingly asked. “No.” She said. “Fine. We do it your way.” I said. “That’s right.” Lin said and smirked.

[shig-a-shig-ah]

everything i’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it

Before the League of Villains, Tomura took you. Before the final war, he let you go. Still, moving on proves difficult for you both.

» pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x afab!reader » word count: 4.2 » notes: Idk what this is, really. Divorce Ghuleh was in some kind of mood. » contains: gn!pronouns, post-canon, angst, exes (kinda), unrequited love (kinda), soft Shigaraki, ostensibly yandere Shigaraki, referenced kidnapping, oral sex (f!receiving). 18+, minors DNI. » ao3 mirror

"You got a new place."

Anyone else might be alarmed by that casual interjection when you were, until a moment ago, alone in your apartment, no company save for the pile of moving boxes beside you and no sound except the patter of rain against the roof. But you? You don't so much as flinch at the sudden appearance of that raspy voice. You only continue placing books neatly on the shelf before you as you reply, "And you found it."

"I always do, don't I?"

There's a shrug in Tomura's voice, the words spoken as a simple matter of course. It's followed by footsteps reverberating across the hardwood, and even without turning around you can picture the scene perfectly in your mind: him pacing behind you, head cocked and hands shoved lazily in his pockets as he surveys your fourth apartment in fifteen months.

"Why'd you move?" His question is followed by the telltale creak of a cabinet opening. "I thought you liked your last place."

"I did, but they raised the rent."

The cabinet, empty, thuds shut. There's a weight to the brief silence that follows, and when it's broken it's by the drag of fingernails raking over papery skin. Then, "You know you don't have to worry about that."

It's true, and it isn't. You could afford any place you wanted with the money Tomura insists on putting in your name—money that you refuse to touch. On principle, you tell yourself, though you often wonder the difference between that and spite.

You don't argue, though. Only deflect. "It wasn't worth what they were asking. And I like this place, too."

You're not lying. The unit is smaller, admittedly, and further from the city center, or what passes for one these days when so much is still in ruin. But it's also quiet. Quaint. There's a picture window that looks out over the shared courtyard, and rows of built-ins lining the walls. More built-ins than you could possibly need, really, for the meager possessions you've accumulated over the last year and some, but you tell yourself that's a good thing. That you'll grow into the space in a way you never managed at your last apartments.

Not that this is a promising start.

You wipe your dusty hands on your jeans and finally stand, sighing as you turn to face Tomura. "You said you were going to stop coming by like this."

He looks as you'd expected, on first glance—loose black clothes and slouched posture, carmine eyes watchful behind the spill of white hair that hangs longer every time you see him. But you also catch the subtle shift your words bring—the brief press of his mouth into a tight line, the quick drop of his gaze.

There's a long silence as you stare at him and he stares at the floor.

When he starts pacing again, the echo of his footsteps hangs heavier this time.

"It's hard," he says, chewing at his cheek. "Everyone else has moved on. Toga has her girlfriend, Dabi's with his family. Spinner's turned the Liberation Front into some heteromorph rights movement, if you can believe it." He lets out an incredulous laugh, as though he can't. "Even Kurogiri is busy. Figuring out his old friends, his old life."

"Kurogiri left?" You try to force aside the unwanted tightness that revelation spurs in your chest. "I thought he'd stay with you."

"He offered. Would have if I'd asked, but it's not like I need him. I'm just..."

"Lonely?"

"No." And then, with mirthless huff, "Maybe."

That admission hangs in the air longer than you intend to let it—long enough for your memory to take you back to places you'd rather not be. To waking, years ago, in a strange bedroom in a strange apartment. To long night after long night with Tomura curled against your side and your own mind refusing sleep, preoccupied as it was with the question of why.

The answer, it turned out, was deceptively simple.

There's a pile of takeout menus on your coffee table—ones that were waiting in your mailbox when you moved in. You sigh as you reach for them, already knowing he'll stay for dinner if you offer.

And already knowing you'll offer.

"Well," you say, not missing how Tomura's eyes darken guiltily at the trace bitterness you can't quite keep from your voice, "it's not like it would be the first time."

"You go out now."

Tomura's words have you pausing with a piece of katsu lifted halfway to your mouth. The two of you have been silent the last ten minutes; were mostly silent before that, too, as you waited out the vast-seeming span of time between the placing of your takeout order and the reprieve of the delivery person's arrival. But now he's looking at you from behind his hair as he scoops up threads of soba.

You finish taking your bite. Swallow. "What?"

"I came by your old place a few days ago and you weren't there." He says it reluctantly, like he's ashamed despite the current circumstance. "Last month, too. That never used to happen."

Of course it didn't: you barely left your old apartments in the weeks and months after Tomura let you go, though you've been trying to remedy that as of late. Two years sequestered from normal life left you overwhelmed in public, oddly claustrophobic any time you found yourself in a crowd. And even once that tendency towards panic abated, there was hardly anywhere to go outside of earning your meager living. No family to miss you, and certainly no friends to reconnect with. Much like Tomura now, everyone you knew seemed to have moved on.

Not that you hadn't, because whoever you were before Tomura, it's not who you were after. And you know the same is true of him—that he's not the person he was when he took you. An incontrovertible truth, if only because you're sitting here. Free.

More or less, anyway.

You take another bite of katsu. Chew carefully before saying, "I was on a date, actually."

The way Tomura stiffens slightly at your answer sparks a vindictive stab of satisfaction in you. It only grows when he asks, with forced casualness, "What kind of date?"

"A first date."

A good date, too, by objective standards. One where your suitor did all the right things, and where that effort seemed genuine. They didn't even try to come up at the end of the night—only kissed you on the cheek and said they would call.

"Is there—" Tomura wavers, for a moment. Lifts one hand towards his neck only to drop it just as quickly, and then slurps down a hasty spoonful of broth instead. When he swallows, it's harder than seems necessary. "Is there going to be a second one?"

You think again about the end of that latest attempt at romantic connection. About the blank indifference you felt as your date stood there smiling, and about the memory of crimson eyes that haunted you in that moment, the same way it had in the few attempts before. About the voicemail your suitor left the next day. The one that still sits on your phone, unplayed.

Whatever petty satisfaction you felt a moment ago slips away.

"No," you say flatly before lapsing back into silence.

There never is.

"Do you ever regret it?"

It's a question that again comes after lengthy quiet, though this time you're the one to speak first. Dinner is long over, takeout containers and disposable chopsticks left in a pile on your scuffed kitchen table, and you've spent the last couple hours in silence on your sofa. You're in one corner and Tomura's in the other, his foot propped up on a couple moving boxes as a sitcom neither of you are really watching plays out on screen. He frowns at the abrupt inquiry.

"The war?"

It's telling, you think, that that's the first place his mind goes. To that final confrontation with the heroes, and a battle he'd more or less won. But it's not what you meant.

"Letting me go." After a moment's consideration, you add, "Or taking me in the first place."

That question has festered in the back of your mind since the day Tomura chose power over the dwindling comfort of your presence, and you couldn't say why you ask it now. Couldn't say, either, why it was left unspoken for so long, save that some discomfort always stopped you. A fear, you suppose, that whatever response he gave would reveal as much about you as him. That you'd realize too late there was some specific answer you wanted.

Even now, your eyes stay fixed uneasily on the television as you await a response that takes several long moments to come. In the interim the quiet is filled with nothing but grating laugh tracks and the telltale rustle of nails scraping over Tomura's throat. You wonder when he resumed that anxious tick. Wonder, too, how bad it's gotten. If you brushed back those tangled locks, would you find mere reddened skin, or deep scores?

You distract yourself with that wondering, and eventually Tomura gives his answer.

"Sometimes," he admits.

"Sometimes for which one?"

The subsequent silence is longer this time. Then the sound of scratching abates, and from the corner of your eye you see his hand drop.

He leans forward for the television remote. Turns the volume up a couple notches.

"Both."

"Are you asleep?"

"No."

Tomura's answer is the one you expected. You've spent the last who-knows-how-long doing nothing more than staring at the dim black of the ceiling above your bed and somehow, despite the dark and the polite distance left between you, you knew he was doing the exact same thing.

He doesn't stay over, usually. Doesn't come by that often at all, truth be told, though every time he does it feels like an inevitability. Like there could never be any world where the two of you part for good.

On your good days, you know why that is. Understand the technicalities of trauma bonding or Stockholm syndrome or whatever one wants to call it. You know, too, that you're lucky in some ways. That this thin attachment you can't shake could be far stronger after two years of forced proximity.

On your bad days, though? On days like today, when his presence reminds you that there was something almost comfortable about this, once?

On those days, you can't help thinking that sense of inevitability might mean something.

You shift. Roll onto your side to look at him, and preoccupy yourself studying the outline of his silhouette, so different now from when he first stole you into his bed. He looked so young, then, with his owlishly wide eyes and that shaggy mop of dirty white hanging chaotically over his features. Now, his stark hair falls heavy back from his face, and his cheeks have lost some of their surprising roundness. Those more chiseled angles match the cut of meaty shoulders, and the swell of a chest that wasn't always so broad.

Several long moments pass, and then Tomura turns to face you.

"Why?" he asks. His brow is knit slightly, the rest of his face placid. It's a look you used to find strange—too dispassionate and untroubled for someone whose blood so often ran hot. But even in the earliest days he rarely turned those mercurial moods towards you.

No, with you he was always calm, or calm enough anyway—no demands or expectations beyond your stolen company and the tug of your head to his chest so his face could bury into your hair. It's that weight of expectation that makes it so different with everyone else, you think. Every job you take, every date you make, comes with the realization that something is wanted of you. Then, and always.

It had seemed intolerable when you were living it, but those long years with Tomura were still the only time in your life you were allowed to simply be.

And whether you want to or not, sometimes...

Sometimes you miss it.

You scoot closer to him. Ignore the way he stiffens in surprise and lean in, pressing your mouth to his.

It's not love. It never was, you're certain of that—not for you and not for him, either, even if it took so much time and growth for him to realize it. But it is familiar in a way that nothing else is, and tonight you don't much mind that when he feels like home it's in the exact wrong ways, like a place to which you would never want to return for good but that you might sometimes long to visit, if only because nothing else will ever be yours in quite the same way.

And because you'll never belong to anything else in quite the same way, either.

Tomura's arm extends to settle around your waist, tugging you closer. The gesture is far more practiced than the clumsy movements of his lips, but it's no surprise to you that he's more well-versed in the mundane affections. They were a constant in the hundreds of nights you once spent close against him, his hands in careful fists and his body curled into your side, each passing minute proving that he wasn't lying when he whispered what you thought were reassuring falsehoods. That he just wanted to be close to you.

It was hard to believe at first that he held little interest in carnal endeavors, at least beyond what they might represent when given willingly. But in the end you were convinced of it.

And in the end, when some combination of conscience and necessity finally led to your parting, you gave it willingly.

Now here you are. Again.

You deepen the kiss. Let your tongue trace over Tomura's scarred lower lip and sigh when his arms tighten around you. There's not passion in it, not exactly, but he's steady against you. Warm. Easy. And whether it's him you want or merely a familiar body touching you, that's enough to have a faint spark of heat stirring between your thighs.

Tomura doesn't protest when you pull back to tug him atop you, your hands already pressing at his shoulders to guide him where you want him, settled between your thighs. In the dim light you can just make out the stigmata-like scars that mar his palms as he shoves your shirt up, and you find yourself contemplating those pale, shiny marks. They're two among many, those hints of old wounds serving as counterparts to all the strength and muscle that lingered even after All for One left him.

It must be unsettling, you think, to inhabit a body so different from the one he started with—to wear the evidence of his ascent to godhood even after all that power was stripped away, sacrificed in the name of something as basic as self-preservation.

You think, too, that in the wake of all that it's no wonder he's lonely.

And then Tomura plants an open-mouthed kiss against your clothed mound, and you can't think of much except the desire blooming in you. His fingertips hook under the band of your underwear, tugging them down over your hips so his thumb can tease at your exposed sex, and the delicate touch has a faint gasp slipping past your lips. Tomura's cheek comes to rest against your bare thigh, his hot breath tickling flushed skin.

For a long moment he simply stares up at you from that prone position, gaze intent and eyes heavy-lidded with a want that seems deeper than mere lust. When your hips buck impatiently, however, he's quick to answer; a shuddering exhale slips past his lips and he drags his tongue over the length of your cunt.

His mouth is warm, the velvety pressure enough to have you lifting a hand to tangle in his hair. He groans in response, tipping his head to nuzzle briefly into that touch before he resumes his work, one finger tracing again over your entrance. It tests your wetness and then slips inside you, pressing and curling experimentally until it earns the delicate whimper he was seeking.

He repeats the motion, his tongue continuing to lap at your sensitive apex all the while, and you whine again, throaty and frustrated this time as the heat that's been building levels off. As good as it feels, it's not enough, the soft strokes of his tongue too gentle to approximate what you're accustomed to—the buzz of toys or the firm press of your own fingers, but never someone else's touch. Your grip on his hair tightens as you grind yourself against him.

"More," you gasp. He's quick to respond, another finger slipping inside you and the flat of his tongue dragging more firmly over your clit. Your back arches in response, your eyes fluttering closed. "Mmhmm," you gasp. "Like that."

Even with your own eyes closed, you can feel Tomura's unfaltering gaze, can sense him watching raptly as you respond to every persistent touch. Your head is starting to go fuzzy, everything beyond the friction between your thighs receding into a haze. When Tomura's lips latch around you, sucking lightly, your free hand clutches at the blankets as your legs start to tremble.

Tomura stops his efforts just as quickly, planting a kiss against your inner thigh as you let out another choked noise of dismay.

"Say my name," he pants. Those words are accompanied by the faint rustle of the sheets beneath him, and when your eyes blink open you can just make out his hips rutting against the mattress, some reflexive bid for friction. His voice is thick as he repeats his request. "Say it, when you—"

You're already nodding, clutching at him again as you guide him back to where you want him. Where you need him. There's a pleasant ache at your center, throbbing as you hover on the edge of release, and you whimper when Tomura's lips close obediently around you.

"Fuck," you swear as the flat of his tongue starts to work in tandem with that suction, the sensation heightened by each rhythmic stroke of his fingers. "Fuck, 'm close."

He speeds up his movements, tongue working more eagerly against you, and you can feel yourself beginning to tense, your hands and your hips conspiring to shove Tomura's face more firmly against your cunt. It's a heady sensation, to be touched at all and especially to be touched like this after so long without. When those waves of pleasure finally crest it's almost overwhelming, some strange melancholy swelling in your chest even as your whole body goes taut and a cry rises in your throat. It nearly sticks, lodged behind the unwanted lump that's formed there; in the wash of your tumultuous orgasm you barely manage to give him the one thing he asked for in exchange for that peak.

The words come out a hoarse, broken whisper. "C-coming, Tomura."

He groans gratefully, coaxing you through your release and not stopping until you force him away, overstimulated. Even then he only turns his head to mouth at your thigh, his hips continuing to grind against your mattress as his breathing grows more ragged. His lips work fervently over you as he does, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses punctuated by strained exhales. Then he's stuttering and shuddering, letting out one last desperate gasp against your skin as he comes.

He claws his way back up beside you almost immediately, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, uncertain in a way that contrasts sharply with his usual demeanor these days. It has you reminded once again of early on in all of this, when he was so different. When you both were.

That uncanny nostalgia only intensifies when he asks, hesitantly, "Can I...?"

You nod. You know what he's asking for—the only thing he's ever really wanted when crawling into bed beside you. The moment you acknowledge his plea, he's pressing himself into your side, arms wrapping tightly around you and his face burying in the crook of your neck.

Tomura doesn't move after that. Only relaxes into you slowly as you stare again the ceiling, willing yourself to feel some shame or guilt for inviting him into your bed. Not because of what it might mean to him, after all this time, but because of what it might mean to you. What it might mean for you.

In the end, though, you fail to summon that remorse. Another part of the inevitability, perhaps, because what is there to be ashamed of when it feels like things could never have been any different?

So, you only lay there listening as Tomura's breathing evens into the telltale rhythm of sleep, and sometime in the hours after you doze away too.

Tomura wakes to the warmth of your skin against his, and for a moment it's as if all the months since your parting have been erased. He blinks his eyes open expecting to find himself in his room at the bar, and to rise and make you tea under Kurogiri's watchful eye the same way he did so many times before. It isn't until he's met with the sight of bare walls and morning light streaming through the window that he orients himself.

Muscle memory still carries him to your kitchen after he slips from beneath your sheets; it's only when he finds coffee instead of tea among your sparse pantry items that he pauses. Remembers that he's well past such persistent efforts to win you over. All he's doing now is acting out a script for a performance that's long since ended.

He leaves the stove unlit. Puts your kettle, half-filled, back where he found it, and stands uncertainly in your kitchen, surveying the stacks of half-emptied moving boxes that surround him.

It doesn't mean anything, he knows. That you asked him to touch you, or that you asked him to stay at all, those casual invitations thrown out not with reluctance, exactly, but with resignation: Why don't you stay for dinner? And then, when you'd retreated to bed, the simplest, Are you coming? And even if it did mean something, it would be nothing more than what it always means when you fail to turn him away. That the consequences of his early thievery extend far beyond what his younger self could have imagined. That what he's done he can never take back or undo, no matter what paltry efforts he makes to set things right.

There is no right, here. Not for the two of you.

Tomura's halfway through slipping on his shoes when your voice interrupts him.

"You're leaving."

He turns to find you standing in your bedroom doorway, your face still bleary with sleep and your expression otherwise indifferent. The skin at his throat prickles, the way it seems to do so often lately.

He was. Leaving. Had been intent on slipping out the door before you rose, and before he had to wonder if you would ask him to stay.

You don't ask him to stay.

"It's funny," you say instead, and with no real amusement, "I woke up at some point last night, and for a second I thought..."

That sentence hangs in the air, half-finished, but Tomura knows what you thought. He thought it himself, after all, when he first stirred to the rise and fall of your chest under his cheek and was transported back to a time when things felt far simpler. A time when after was a problem for others to contend with, so abstract and disconnected from his goals that it seemed the future couldn't touch him.

Tomura finishes tying his shoes. Straightens up to look you in the eye—a feat that seems to grow harder every time he sees you. Fingertips lift to rub at his neck as clears his throat.

"I won't bother you again," he says.

He means it, but then he always does. Always tells himself this time is the last time, and believes the lie until the moment that unshakable pull has him slipping through whatever unlocked door or window he can find.

You spare him the indignity of skepticism, though. Only nod and move to open the front door, watching silently as he accepts that unambiguous disinvitation. He takes two steps out into the hall before pausing, a question he doesn't want to ask hovering on the tip of his tongue.

He asks it anyway.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You asked me if I regret it," he says. He keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the carpet in front of him. "Do you?"

The question is met with silence at first. When Tomura finally turns to face you, you're staring at him with your brow slightly knit, your mouth twisted into something a little too wry to be called a smile.

After another moment, you sigh. Your gaze drops, briefly, and then rises again to meet his stare.

"Goodbye, Tomura," you say, almost gently.

You shut the door.

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