#also i made myself a really good sandwich

[timmie-p]

It was an accident, really.

I’m ringing up the last item on this lady’s haul, a can of some brand-name soup. Soup isn’t my thing, but whatever, I don’t judge. Really. To each their own, I guess.

It’s about three minutes past the end of my shift and she seems to be taking her sweet time digging each individual piece of change out of her purse. Fine. Not like I’m in a hurry to get home or anything. Bitch.

Sorry, not bitch. My therapist tells me I need to work on my assumptive attitude toward other people’s motives in non-hostile situations. Basically, be less judgemental. I’m working on it. Really, I am.

Anyway, she finally counts out the money and hands it to me. She’s just short of the total amount and I can tell she’s hoping I don’t notice, but I just sigh and send her on her way. My shift was over approximately… four minutes ago. I technically don’t even work here anymore. Not my problem. Fuck ‘em companies.

She ambles out the doors and I start locking up the place as fast as I can. My cat is waiting for me and that idiot will eat up my bedsheets if I don’t get home to feed him in time. I hate that stupid little shit.

Now, the store is in an okay area. Graffiti, trash, piss on the sidewalks, the usual stuff. Not posh by any means, but I’m not worrying about getting my sorry twig ass stabbed even when it’s getting dark out now. That’s why seeing the dude there was so goddamn weird.

I’m going through the motions, trying each of the keys to find which one is the right one — they all look the same. Maybe someone (cough cough, my bitchass forgetful manager) should start labelling them. It’s fine, I don’t care. Really.

I start hearing this rattling coughing and shuffling behind me as I’m wrapping it all up. Probably some homeless dude with a cold. The guys in the area have learned that I’ll usually “donate” a box or two of medicine if I can sneak it, but I’ve already locked up today and I’m in a hurry to get home. My shit-for-brains cat is going to start ravaging my bed soon and I just washed my sheets, thank you.

I turn around to let him know I’ve got nothing for him and I’m met with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life. Really, I swear. He’s got that facial structure models have and his hair is messy in that “actor in a movie who supposedly just woke up” kind of way. A face my baby sister would squeal at and make fancams for or whatever weird shit she does. The kind of guy that pointedly does not belong in front of this shitty store looking at my very much average face.

He’s all dressed up in an expensive-looking suit with a watch that looks like it’s worth more than several years of my salary. There’s a unique pin on the breast of his suit jacket, probably the logo of some company I can’t be bothered to recognise. And also he’s splattered in blood. And also he’s definitely Rich with a capital R. In a “dude what are you doing here shouldn’t you be gambling with inferior people’s money in crypto stocks or something” kind of way. I fucking hate Rich people.

He’s hunched over, blood dripping from his side, and panting like one of those pugs trying to suck in air through its malformed snout after taking the shortest easiest walk known to man. Probably deserved it, honestly. Wait, no, I’m being judgmental again, I don’t even know this dude. For all I know he’s a perfectly normal, perfectly nice dude who is also suffering from a severe and perhaps life-threatening injury.

I’m looking at him, he’s looking at me. At this point, I’m mentally going over my last therapy session and trying to recall what my therapist said about approaching difficult and unfamiliar situations with an open mind.

“So… you alright?” I open, and immediately I can feel that I have made a Social Blunder. Great. A plus for effort. Wrap it up boys we’ve hit nothing and it’s time to jump off a bridge. Sorry, I didn’t actually mean jump off a bridge, just a force of habit. Gotta keep a positive outlook and all that.

He’s staring at me like I’m stupid (I am) and there’s a beat of silence. My palms start sweating and I really just want to walk away and forget about this interaction entirely, but this guy does seem to be. Dying. Of sorts. So it really isn’t in my moral conscience to just leave him there.

He wheezes something unintelligible and I swallow. Ok, let’s try this again.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. How would you like me to help you?”

Ok. The customer service voice wasn’t exactly what I was going for. But good attempt. I pat myself on my back for recovering the social situation.

“Hospital,” he groans, and wow he sounds gorgeous too, like he could narrate audiobooks or documentaries. And yes, of course, hospital. For the injury. Yes.

“My car is parked just down the block, I could give you a lift if you’d like?”

He again looks at me like I’m stupid, and I take that as a yes.

I ease my arm around him to prop him up and help him walk, and he is heavy. Dude is absolutely ripped and it’s all fucking muscle mass. Whatever. I am not going to drop him and make him walk himself with all those fucking muscles. But I am very tempted by the idea.

I somehow manage to drag him all the way to the car and set him down to catch my breath. I plop him against the side of the car and there’s this almost hilarious contrast between his first class looks and my shitty, secondhand ride. I keep my laughter to myself, though.

I pull out my key and shove it into the little lock on the handle of the passenger side. There’s this little manoeuvre you have to do where you push the door in and pull the handle slightly upwards while you unlock it or else it won’t open properly. It’s annoying but I usually don’t have any passengers so I haven’t bothered getting it fixed.

I adjust him into a princess carry and put in all my strength to lift him up and push him into the passenger’s seat. Lift with your legs, not your back. Well, lift with your entire fucking body because holy shit he is massive and I do not exercise on a regular basis. I think I jostled his wound in the process by the way he gasped but at least he’s in the car now.

I buckle him in and shut the door, making my way to the driver’s seat. I’m just starting up the car when I think to myself that I do not have time for this shit. It’s been twenty minutes since the end of my shift, there is a dying guy in the passenger seat of my car, my sheets are going to be ribbons by the time I get home, and wow I am low on petrol.

This guy better fucking pay for my petrol.

I roll into the street and start down the route to the hospital. The guy is still doing that rattling wheezing which is probably very much not good. Didn’t help that I probably maybe definitely made it worse while getting him into the car. His blood is pooling onto the seat and that stain is never coming out. He needs medical attention ASAP.

The hospital isn’t close, but I do know a few shortcuts around the city.

We’re approaching the first turn when I see a couple of black cars coming up from behind me in the rearview mirror. Huh, that’s strange. There’s usually not many people out this late around here.

I signal with my blinker and start turning when I hear this loud bang and the entire car shakes. What the fuck. This piece of shit cannot be breaking down right now.

Thankfully, it keeps chugging along and I glance up at the mirror again.

There are. Several cracks. In my rear window. Those wasn’t there before, I think. I would have noticed them. Okay, fine, whatever. Gotta get that shit fixed later. I guess.

I’m halfway down the street when I see the black cars turn on as well. They are going really fast. Must be in a hurry or something. However I am also in a hurry because the dude next to me is still dying. Fuck.

That’s when the second bang comes, the car shakes again, I look up and there are several more cracks in the window.

Okay what the fuck is happening?

The black cars are fast approaching behind me. Their windows are all tinted so I can’t see who’s in them, but the closest one has its window on the passenger side rolled down and there’s an arm stuck out on the side of it, fiddling with some kind of device.

Oh my god is that a gun. Am I being shot at with a gun. What the fuck. What the fuck.

I make the next turn, and the man next to me groans again.

“Wrong way to hospital,” he grunts, shifting to sit up properly.

“Shortcut,” I reply tersely, because what the fuck is going on right now.

The black cars are still following me. My hands are trembling and the car swerves a bit. There’s another bang and the shot narrowly grazes the external mirror. Mmm. Holy fucking shit.

The guy is unbuckling his seatbelt, and I do not care. If he wants to fucking fly through the windshield and become a meat crayon on the road when we inevitably crash because someone is shooting at us then he’s free to do so.

My hands are shaking and I can barely keep the car straight. Another few shots miss, I think. I don’t know, my mind isn’t processing any of this.

The man reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a fucking gun. Okay. Great. This is great. What the fuck did I get myself into.

He’s shakily loading bullets in when another shot hits. There’s a sound of shattering glass and the car jolts. When I look up, there is a gaping hole in the back window of my car and the black cars behind me are driving very, very fast.

I step on the accelerator.

As my car slowly accelerates because of course it struggles to reach anything above the speed limit, the man pushes himself up and takes aim behind us.

The sound that comes from the gun right next to my ear is so loud that the world suddenly goes silent.

There’s a brief moment where I think I’ve died. The bullet must have hit me and I’ve died. The world is quiet and I’ve never noticed how loud my tinnitus is until now, when the silence is deafening. The moment seems to drag on forever, silence my fate for eternity.

Then a ringing starts, quiet at first like a fly in my ear and growing until its all I can hear and it echoes back and forth between the space in my skull.

The man is shouting something at me and I cannot hear him.

I spare myself a glance up, the cars are closing in. I press the accelerator all the way down.

We rip down the road, the fastest my car has ever gone in its decade of life. I think I hear the engine throbbing, rapid and intense and beating out of my chest like it’s trying to escape.

There’s another turn up ahead, one of those that look hidden from the angle road unless you know the route well. It’s bumpier but will cut the time to the hospital in half.

The man takes another shot. My ears ring again.

My hands are clenched so tight around the wheel that they’ve drained pale and bloodless. My sweat coats the wheel and I’m scared that my hold will simply slip off. I grip tighter.

There are more cars coming from the front.

These ones are also black, windows tinted, but each is emblazoned with a logo on the front that looks vaguely familiar.

Windows roll down, hands out the windows, also holding guns, great fine wow haha.

I jerk the wheel and the car barrels through the turn.

The road here is much more narrow and unkempt. My car is practically bouncing over the potholes and I’m praying that a tire doesn’t blow. Not here, not now.

Thankfully, whatever existence above seems to hear me and is even blessing its favourite little mortal because the turn was sudden enough that it threw off both sides of our pursuers, at least for long enough to let us gain some distance.

My ears are still ringing and I’m going to have a hell of a story to tell my cat when I get home. If I get home.

“Keep driving,” the guy rasps. “They’ll catch up soon.”

I continue forward dutifully.

We’re speeding through when the whine of a police siren starts up from off to the side. Just what I needed. I fucking hate my life.

I ignore the officer. Fuck the cops, whatever.

And just my luck, the black cars are on our trail again.

I’m so dead. I’m so fucking dead.

The hospital is so close. Three more turns and we’ll be there.

I can make it.

One of the black cars has started gaining on us again, the first that shot at us previously. It’s the same arm as before.

The arm raises to take another shot and the black car is rammed from behind. The arm drops the gun.

It’s one of the emblazoned cars coming up from behind. The passenger in the car shoots at the first black car and it’s a bullseye, home run, hole in one, the car crashes and the logo rolls on forward.

My heart soars; they’re helping us. We’re going to make it.

Then a well-aimed shot takes out my right external mirror.

Ah. Right. So that’s a no-go.

The emblazoned cars continue to shoot both at the unmarked black cars and at my car, while the unmarked cars defend themselves and shoot at us. The police sirens are getting louder.

I make the turn, clipping the curb. Not good for my tires. No time to think about that.

Two more turns.

My breathing is fleeting and it feels like I can’t get enough air.

The man unloads several shots in succession. I think my eardrum has been blown out.

He curses and ducks back into his seat.

“Out of bullets.”

My eyes flit to him. He’s bleeding harder now. The blood is definitely never coming out of that seat.

“Mn.”

What else can I say? Not like I can fucking reload his gun with my mind. We’re so fucked.

My car is making an awful clanking noise and it feels like I’m holding it together through sheer willpower.

There’s police cars coming up in front of us. They’re starting to set up some sort of blockade and I cannot deal with this right now.

They haven’t closed up the road entirely yet. I eye the space on the very side.

Another shot hits and I cut across the road.

There’s a high-pitched, ear piercing, nails-on-chalkboard screeching as the car scrapes against the blockade. I shut my eyes and clench my teeth.

I come out the other side with two less doors and several years shaven off my lifespan.

A breath escapes me and there are police officers shouting from behind.

Black cars ram into the blockade and destroy it.

Not out of the fire yet.

They’ve slowed down, taking damage from the barrier, but are still right on our tail. Bullets fly out around us. I can’t tell how many have hit.

We’re going so fast that I almost miss the opening.

I twist the wheel as fast as I can. Taking the corner, the car pitches and both I and the man are thrown to the side. He, not wearing a fucking seatbelt, slams into the side.

“Sorry,” I mutter, even though it’s his fucking fault.

One more turn.

I suck in a breath. We just need to make it over this last stretch.

A bullet flies through the open back and skims right past my cheek through the windshield.

Glass shards fall onto my dashboard. I yank a hand away from the wheel but a piece still finds itself embedded in my arm.

The car veers and I curse under my breath.

Both hands back on the wheel. Worry later. Drive now.

Zipping down the street and everything burns red hot. My chest is beating so hard I can’t even breathe. Vision is darkening around the edges and everything is blurry. Ears still ringing.

Turn up ahead.

Cars behind. Getting closer.

There are no more unmarked black cars. Looks like the emblazoned ones took them all out.

I’m next.

Right there. I can make it.

The man is still heaving beside me, albeit fainter now.

I wrench the wheel and the car lurches.

We drift, wheels making an ungodly noise against the road. They were not made for this.

I’m desperately spinning the wheel, trying to regain control as my car slips. At least we’re still going in the right direction. Shit.

By some miracle, I tug the wheel just enough, blowing past the sidewalk right into the hospital lot.

Holy shit we made it.

I look at the man slumped in the passenger’s seat. Still bleeding but still breathing.

The fact that he’s held on for all that is honestly a feat of wonder. Perhaps he’s even set the world record for most blood lost without dying. He’s definitely won the record for most blood soaked into my fucking seat on account of being the only contestant.

Cars rumble in beside us. And in front. And behind.

Hm.

Perhaps I should have realised that they would not stop their pursuit simply because I reached my destination.

This is not good.

People in suits start getting out of the cars.

I draw in a shaky breath and prepare to meet my end. My therapist put in so much effort for me and here I am, about to die anyway. Not even on my own terms. And who’s going to feed that little idiot waiting for me at home? I hope my neighbours will take him in once they realise I’m not coming back.

Fuck.

They approach the passenger’s side first, jiggling the handle. It doesn’t open, of course.

“Sorry, dude,” I murmur to the poor guy bleeding out beside me. All this and I couldn’t even get him to a damn hospital.

There’s someone reaching in from the doorless opening on my side. I stare at the towering man who grabs my shoulder, his eyes staring unflinchingly back at me. Fuck, I want to see it when it happens.

Every embarrassing and regretful moment of my life starts flashing before me (woah, just like in the movies) and I’m internally apologising to Mimi for tugging on her braids when I was 6 when the man next to me raises his hand.

“They’re with me,” he chokes out.

The grip on my shoulder loosens.

The passenger’s window shatters and someone unlocks the door from the inside. They get a hold on the man and lift him out easily. Maybe I need to start working out.

“Get out,” the tall man orders gruffly. I hastily unbuckle the seat belt, fumbling with the band until I just give up and let it dangle loosely.

As I step out of the car, I notice how dark it’s gotten. It hadn’t really registered while I was driving, but the sun has set completely and I’m usually home by this time, enjoying myself some soggy microwaved dinner after serving my stupid cat.

They’re carrying the injured man towards the hospital now, and I catch another glimpse at the pin on his blazer. It’s the same as the logo emblazoned on the cars surrounding me.

If they work for him why were they fucking shooting at us?? Employees planning a coup?

The tall man notices my questioning gaze and clears his throat.

“We apologise. We believed you were a hostile entity and had not received any orders to halt our assault. We were to take our leader back by any means possible.”

Okay. Thanks big guy, that explains so much. Really. For sure.

Five points of interest.

One: What the fuck.

Two: Did I get myself involved in some goddamn mob shit.

Three: I need to piss.

Four: I need to go home and feed my cat. And then go to sleep and never wake up. Everything aches.

Five: What the fuck.

I hear police sirens in the distance. Mm, great. Okay.

I look at my car. Or what’s left of my car. It’s missing two doors, all the windows are shattered, and there are numerous bullet holes in it.

A marvel that none of them hit me. No, one almost hit me earlier. My cheek is burning and there’s blood dripping down my face.

And now that I’m starting to think about it, pain is rushing back into my system full force. My arm radiates a stabbing sensation where glass is still lodged and I’m scraped and bruised all over my body.

The tall man has gone to talk with the others. I can see the police starting to pull in to the lot.

A woman splits off from their group and walks over to me. She looks kinda like a professor I had in college, that sharp-eyed, stick-up-their-ass kind of look. I really don’t have the energy to talk, so I just nod at her and she nods back.

“I’ll escort you to get medical attention first. We will take care of any police attention.”

I don’t know and I don’t care to find out what that entails.

I follow her wordlessly and the rest is a blur. Someone patches me up and I somehow make it back home without my car. Maybe that guy’s employees (underlings?) sent me back, I don’t know.

I flick on the lights and the idiot is already yowling at my feet. The remains of my bedsheets cover everything. I fill his bowl up with the entire can of the deluxe tuna I save for special occasions and drag myself onto my bare mattress.

The stupid little guy rushes in, tuna still on his whiskers, and curls up onto me as I pass out from exhaustion.

The next day, I wake up to a sleek, new car and an invitation to become a personal driver. I have a penchant for staying calm and quiet in difficult situations, I’m told. Starting salary in the six-figures.

Well, I can’t say I agree with the evaluation of my character, but it’s an offer that’s hard to turn down. Really.

I guess my idiot will be having deluxe tuna more often, huh.

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPTS

Too many beds

Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

Really nice guy who hates only you

Academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class

Divorce of convenience

Too much communication

True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)

Dating your enemy’s sibling

Lovers to enemies

Hate at first sight

Love triangle where the two love interests get together instead

Fake amnesia

Soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Strangers to enemies

Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating

Too hot to cuddle

Love interest CEO is a himbo/bimbo who runs their company into the ground

Nursing home au

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 29

“Evil Like Me” by Kristin Chenoweth & Dove Cameron for Disney's Descendants OS

[confinesofmy]

me and my grandmother and cousin are going to visit an ancient monument next week and i'm sooo excited. because of the monument, for sure, because that is fucking crazy, but also honestly because i'm going to pack lots and lots of foods and drinks and supplies and i've got the route all planned out and all possible stops along the way. idk why i'm like this but planning and executing a trip is literally about 50% of my enjoyment.

[icewindandboringhorror]

misc. daily life photos again .. for the every once in a while that I collect enough over a few months to actually make a photo set out of them lol

[risuola]

▶ NEEDY AND SHAMELESS — Satoru was needy and couldn't deal with it himself.

contents: needy, whiny, whimpering Satoru (that's a warning!), college+roommates!au, nsfw, oral (m! receiving), reader discretion is advised — wc. 2585

a/n: dedicated to my dear 🎶 anon for creating the movement #HeadForGojo, love ya! but also, we're diving into dangerous waters with the trio and i'd like to think that the reader is closer physically with Satoru and mentally with Suguru but fear not, spicy Suguru is coming as well!

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

You’re not the type to get easily surprised.

Usually.

Living with two boys and knowing them for most of your life had prepared you to expect the unexpected and it was the spontaneity that was at the base of most of your best memories. The impromptu hitchhike travels during which you’d sprawl on top of either of their lap, the tight spaces in which you slept sandwiched between them, the unplanned sleepovers and long, nighttime rides on their motorbikes.

You’ve watched the stars with them, spread-eagled on the dew-sprinkled grass outside the city, talking the nights away while getting eaten alive by mosquitos and you loved every second of it. You’ve survived few days on nothing but instant ramen just so you three could get the best time at the beach without robbing a bank. You didn’t blink twice when Satoru once dragged you into a kissing competition just so you could win a two nights’ stay in one of the most luxurious hotels in Tokyo for all three of you around valentine’s day — you won of course, and after that you partied like royalty, getting drunk with Suguru on expensive champagne (and getting Satoru drunk), and jumping on beds in hotel-branded robes.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” But this time you were flabbergasted. Blinking a little faster, you tried to force the gears in your head to turn and process what you just heard. There was no way he just asked you to—

“Can you suck my dick? Pretty please—”

—never mind. The question sounded just as unexpected as the first time, if not more. There was no reason to it, no background information, no nothing that could make it sound a little less out of place.

“Context?”

Gojo groaned. You watched his cheeks turning bright red, the tips of his ears crimson as well and his hand met his face, covering it, hiding it from your expectant gaze. He was nervous, he was embarrassed and you had no idea what the hell was going on underneath the white mop of fluffy hair, but it wasn’t hard to tell that there was smoke coming out of there. For a short moment you wondered if he’d be able to trigger the fire detectors in the building.

“God, this is so embarrassing. I can’t— fuck.” He stuttered and it was the first time in your life you herd him stumble over his own words. “I really can’t do this with my hand. I just can’t, it doesn’t feel right and I’m so fucking frustrated because I tried to get some girl from the campus to give me a head but I can’t force myself to get hard for them. I somehow go all limp and useless whenever they throw themselves at me and ironically the thought of you makes me so painfully, impossibly bricked up that I might just chop the thing off to feel some release.” He was speaking so quickly it was almost difficult to understand, looking everywhere but at you. His eyes were bouncing off the walls and furniture, windows and ceiling but not once settled on you.

“And you want me to get you off?” You questioned, making sure that you understand his rumble correctly and the moment you spoke, Satoru finally stopped fidgeting and froze. His gaze slowly made its way towards you and his breath hitched, his heart pounded in his chest, his whole body tensed up. His mouth opened and closed, and then opened again but nothing came out. It took him a good ten seconds to find his voce, and even then, it came out as barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he said simply, the single word hung heavy between you. His hands were in the pockets of his sweatpants, fingers curling around something — maybe a coin, maybe his own sanity; knuckles turning white from the strain as he took another deep breath. “I know we’re friends and roommates and all sorts of things that should make this a terrible idea but, I swear to all gods out there, it’s not about me wanting you to get me off, it’s about me needing you to get me off.” He swallowed hard, the knot in his throat threatening to choke him. This was so wrong, so incredibly bad and yet, here he was, practically begging you to touch him. To taste him. To swallow him whole. “I know it’s weird and fucked up and probably a huge mistake, but I don’t know what else to do here.”

You saw the vulnerability in those cerulean orbs, the raw honesty behind his confession. The desperation in his voice almost broke your heart, he looked like he’s about to pass out from sheer exhaustion — emotional, mental, physical; every kind imaginable, and you knew him. It wasn’t one of his whims, you can see through them in a blink of an eye. He was serious, he was trembling, his eyes seemed to well with tears as he begged you.

“Does it come from the day you asked me to judge your cock?”

“Yeah, I guess so. You said I make you salivate and fuck, the vision stuck with me.”

And then, he dropped onto the bed, sitting on the edge with elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. He swallowed thickly, gulping down the lump in his throat. He hated the thought of ruining what you had as friends, it terrified him.

“Satoru—” you let out a sigh and he flinched, straightening up and looking at you again.

"I'll do anything. I can eat you out after that to pay you back. I can clean the room for a month. Fuck, I can even give you money if you need it. I'm just fucking going to combust if it goes for any longer–“ He rambled, babbled, desperate to get his point across. "I'm so impossibly hard when you're around, it hurts and every time I try to get my shit together, it's just getting worse."

“You don’t have to pay me back, Toru,” you said lightly, laughing at his nervousness. “I love you, idiot, I’m not gonna let you suffer, though I warn you that I might suck at this, no pun intended.”

“You don’t even have to use your mouth, honestly, if it’s your hand I’m sure it’s still going to be fine, as long as it’s you.”

“Oh, no, if we’re doing this, you’re getting the proper, sloppy, messy head,” you teased and he nearly moaned. The very thought of your mouth wrapping around him almost made him cum in his pants.

His cheeks heated up, all of his body felt like it’s on fire and he loved the feeling. You were straightforward; there was never any pretense or games played between you and him and he adored that about you.

“Please,” he whimpered, paralyzed by the thrill of excitement. The nerves were churning in his stomach, ecstasy coursing through him like electricity through wires. He watched as you moved, putting down the phone, there was a grace in the way you were crawling to the edge of the bed and you made a little sound when you got down onto the floor. He was quick to grab a pillow to throw below your knees, and you shot him a little grin.

It felt odd to you, to kneel in front of your best friend like this with intention so explicit but you also felt at ease with it. It wasn’t pity that drove you, you just loved him genuinely and there was no forcing involved in the way your hands moved to give his thighs a little squeeze.

You chuckled, amused by how sensitive he was, how impatient when just the slightest touch of your fingers over his clothed legs was enough to make him jolt. You could feel the heat radiating from his body and as your eyes moved down from his face, you noticed how strained his cock was against the fabric of his pants. There was a tiny dark spot where his tip was underneath, precum soaking through the grey sweats and you leaned in, flicking your tongue over the cotton, teasing him and he moaned.

“Sweets, please, have mercy. Mochi, I beg you–“ he was a whimpering mess, he was flushed, his chest was heaving and you touched him just barely, through the clothes.

“Oh, patience Toru,” you grinned, reaching up and hooking your fingers over the waistband of his pants. The elastic snapped against his stomach, making him whine and you acted innocent as if you didn’t do it on purpose.

“I’d love to be patient but keep it going and I might just bust in my pants and then die,” he dramatized; his knuckles were turning white from the sheer force he was squeezing the sheets behind him.

Finally, you pulled on the band, taking both pants and underwear at once and his manhood sprung free. The tip hit his stomach, leaving a droplet of seed on his light skin and he twitched as the cool air hit his sensitive flesh. The sight of him made you swallow, the saliva gathering at your mouth because he did look delicious and yet again you were reassured at the belief that god has his favorites.

Dragging your nails across his thighs, you reached to wrap your fingers around him, feeling his weight against your palm and the girth you struggled to embrace at once. You stroked him few times, experimentally, and it made him writhe and fidget, with the whiniest of moans. Satoru felt like he’s going to go crazy, your touch was gentle yet firm and it sent sparks shooting up his spine. He bit his lip to stifle another moan, his hips bucked into your hand involuntarily, seeking more friction. Despite his best efforts to maintain control, he couldn’t help but squirm beneath your touch.

“Be a good boy,” you warned playfully, leaning in, and savoring the moan that broke his apology when you run your tongue along the curved underside of his dick, the veins there felt prominent against the flat of your muscle. The kiss you planted on the tip of it was almost tender, gentle; the salty taste of precum mixed with your own saliva when you twirled your tongue around him.

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” he managed to gasp out between his clenched teeth, his eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure surged through him. He could feel the heat, the tension coiling within him and he swallowed thickly. The sensation of your mouth was unlike anything he had ever experienced before and he felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head when you took him in. Satoru’s whole world narrowed down to the feel of your mouth on him — so wet and warm and wonderful — enveloping his cock in a velvety embrace that had him seeing stars. Your tongue was hot and slick, gliding expertly over his throbbing length. Each lick, each suck had him writhing in pleasure and he barely managed to hold his hips down, to not thrust them deeper into the dreamy embrace between your lips.

The mixture of precum and your saliva was coating his cock, dribbling down his length and your chin. Messy. You were bobbing your head up and down his length, taking more and more of him sloppily. You were greedy, your movements like a dance to an unknown melody with the main dancers being your tongue and his member. You were twirling, tasting, teasing him mercilessly. Your cheeks were hollowing and your nose meeting the few white hairs at the base as you took him deeper and deeper and he was moaning. Shamelessly, loudly and oh so sweetly.

“Swee–mhaah–‘m gonn—” he stuttered, whined, tried to warn you but the words came out incoherent and stretched along the sounds that were ripping through him. His heart pounded in his chest, a wild rhythm that matched the rapid beat of pulse in his veins. Satoru felt his body tensing, one of his legs bouncing as tried to keep himself from shooting his load into your mouth.

Panting, heavily, shakingly, he watched you below him. You looked pretty like this, so drop dead gorgeous and straight out a fantasy that he’s been pushing to the back of his mind for the longest time now. Truth is, he wanted you, needed you much more than a friend would long for a friend, but he was too scared to act on it.

You hummed, the vibrations of your vocal cords pushing him near the edge, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his balls. His cock throbbed in your mouth, leaking precum that coated your tongue with its salty sweetness and he squealed, reaching to grab your head, your hair, to pull you away before he—

A loud, lewd mewl cut through the room and Gojo’s body went rigid as wave after wave of pure, carnal pleasure washed over him. He saw fireworks underneath his eyelids, he felt them exploding inside his veins, and he exploded too. The feel of your mouth sent him spiraling right into climax, speeding with no brakes and he was delighted. His cock twitched, pulsed with each spurt of cum and his entire body trembled with ecstasy, head tilted back, spine arched and mouth agape.

Joyful. He felt so utterly, unapologetically joyful.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him, leaving him panting and spent in their wake. He looked down again, catching the sight of you lapping at his cum, licking him clean and he finally went limp, falling back onto the bed with a weak, gleeful moan.

“Fuck… that was… oh god,” he panted, his blue eyes glazed oved with delight. His chest was raising and falling rapidly, each breath coming in short gasps as he struggled to regain control of his senses but he didn’t want to. He wished to bask in the afterglow a little more, a little longer.

You finished the job with a loud pop as you took him out of your mouth and finally let go. He was softening, his body deflating, relaxing and you took it as the job well done. Once fixing his underwear and sweats, you climbed back onto the bed and dropped next to him, taking in the sight of his flushed face and disheveled hair. He looked angelic, with teary eyes and parted, swollen lips, glistening from saliva. You committed the picture to memory.

“Good?” You asked, though the answer was obvious from the way he looked.

“Heavenly,” he panted out and turned his head towards you. He watched as you reached up to the corner of your lips, thumb wiping off the lone drop of cum that lingered there and he grabbed you gently, pulling it to his own mouth. You chuckled when he sucked on your digit, his warm tongue circling it precisely as his mouth enveloped it whole.

“Nasty,” you teased and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

“Look who’s talking,” he played back, his words muffled over your finger before he finally let go of your hand. A string of saliva stretched from the tip of it and to his mouth but he licked it off like a kitten. “Thank you, mochi.”

“You’re welcome,” you offered him a smile and got off the bed, heading towards the bathroom. “You’re cleaning for a month by the way!”

He whined and you laughed.

taglist: @kibananya @r0ckst4rjk @rixo-19 @soraya-daydreams@hyun0200 @ilykii @roscpctals99 @mushkasstuff @siimp4youu @juicedcherry @themoreeviltwin @stevenknightmarc @ms5m1th @local-mr-frog @minimorale @lansy-4 @dancer545 @lordbugs @tojislittleprincesss

[motherjoel]

arms tonite (joel miller/reader)

summary: basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother

a/n: yawlllllll it has been a MINUTE but i am back for some tlou cause i just really wanted to write for these characters i love so very much. i apologize if the timing of their travel is fucked, i truly have no concept of geography so we can ignore that.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: just general tlou gore, nothin too bad

-

-

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. But as you lay here, Joel's hands soaked in your blood as he attempted to stop it from pulsating out of your abdomen, you knew it was love that you were feeling. It was supposed to be simple. After your brief stay in Jackson, the two of you were supposed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Yet, nothing seemed to be simple these days, especially not around this girl.

In the amount of time the three of you had spent together, you developed an unbreakable bond. Ellie became a sort of surrogate sister to you- you’d lost your family when you were just a kid during the outbreak and you never had the chance to become a big sister. At least not for long. And then there was Joel. You weren’t quite sure what he meant to you yet, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t die for him. For both of them, really- a life without them wasn’t worth living. Of course, you never planned on telling them that.

The day started fairly nice- with Joel allowing Ellie to make her own decision about who would be taking her to the fireflies. Sure, you and Ellie would be fine with Tommy, but Joel had failed to consider the bond the three of you shared when making this decision. He was thinking of only himself and his fear- this is what you had told him last night after his fight with Ellie.

“What the hell was that?” you asked him after he stormed out of Ellie’s temporary room. 

“It was nothin’. Doesn’t concern you,” he replied, brushing past you as he made his way to the couch where he decided to set up camp for the night. 

“Um, it sure as hell does concern me, Joel. Are you seriously going to abandon us? After everything we’ve been through, after how much that girl trusts you, Joel!” you raised your voice a bit, trying to keep yourself from alerting Ellie upstairs. Those words stung him a bit. He didn’t see it as abandonment- he saw it as protection. After everything you went through together, he never once put himself first.

“She doesn’t know a thing about what this means,” Joel turned to you. “She- she’s just a kid, she-” he stopped himself, trying to gather himself. “I can’t bring her. I’m not capable, I’m slowin’ down and I just can’t. Do. It,” he exhaled, dropping himself onto the couch. 

“Wow,” you replied, softly sitting next to him. “You’re really underestimating yourself,” you sighed, Joel, lifting his face to look at you. “I mean, not only yourself but me, Joel. In case you’d forgotten, I’ve gotten myself through some tough shit. And Ellie? Man, she's the toughest kid I’ve ever met. Hell, she's one of the toughest people I’ve ever met,” you said, observing Joel’s worn face. “I mean… don't you think she at least deserves a choice?” you asked, hoping to convince Joel to come to his senses and realize who he was.

“I’ll take the couch. Bedrooms down the hall,” he grumbled before turning his back to you and lying down. There was nothing left you could say at this point, so you decided to spare yourself and make your way to the bedroom. The bed was pretty big. It could’ve fit two people.

The moment you saw Joel in the stables the next morning, you could feel your heart soar. Before he said a word, you knew he had made the right decision. The three of you squeezed onto the horse, Ellie sandwiched in the middle, and you were off. You and Joel sat in peaceful silence for a while, occasionally responding to Ellie’s rambling to show you were listening. Before you knew it, you were arriving at the so-called firefly base. 

“What the fu-” you started.

“Holy shit! Are those monkeys?” Ellie exclaimed, pointing at the crowd of animals before you.

“Must be from the old labs,” Joel muttered, a hint of interest in his voice

“Look at them go!” you giggled.

“First time seein’ a monkey?” Joel asked the two of you. 

“First time seein' a monkey,” you replied in unison, both awestruck. A smile crept onto Joel's face at this- the togetherness he felt in rare moments like this is what kept him going. 

You soon came across the fireflies symbol painted on a couple of signs, but no guards appeared nearby. You all dismounted the horse before making your way inside, guns drawn. You in the back, Joel in the front, and Ellie sandwiched between yet again. The building you came across was abandoned from the looks of it, with papers scattered about. 

“They just left,” Joel said, coming across a packing list among the scattered supplies. You suddenly heard a clang from another room, drawing your attention.

“Maybe not all of them,” you replied as the three of you carefully moved towards the sound. Your heart picked up its pace- whatever was in that room couldn’t be a firefly. Maybe a raider, you thought, which didn’t help your anxieties. Joel put a finger to his lips before opening the door, signaling for your silence. Relief rushed through you as you saw the source of the noise was just a few stray monkeys. It was only moments later that you heard voices- voices that certainly didn’t come from an animal. Peering out the window, the three of you saw a group of men, presumably raiders.

“Shit,” you murmured, instinctively grabbing Ellie’s arm.

“Out the back,” said Joel, leading the way for the three of you to make your escape. You ducked behind some sandbags for a moment before making your break to the horse. As Joel untied the horse, you heard footsteps quickly making their way over to you.

“Joel!” Ellie screamed as the man swung his bat at his head, hitting it on a tree and breaking it in two. While Joel dodged his attack you jumped on the man and banged him into the tree behind him before he knocked you back on your ass, banging your head on the ground. You’ve had your fair share of concussions, and you knew that's exactly what just happened to you. Joel quickly recovered from the first attack before grabbing the man, a wave of anger in his eyes as you’ve never seen before. His arm tightened around the man's throat, unrelenting in its strength. Struggle as he may, it wasn’t long before his neck was snapped. You remain on the ground, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you look at Ellie, shakily holding her gun. Her eyes darken as they shift down to your stomach. Your eyes follow hers and you finally see what she’s looking at. When the man hit the bat into the tree, it must've snapped in half. One half was on the ground a few feet away from you, while, unfortunately, the other half was buried in your stomach.

“Shit,” Ellie said, lowering her gun and walking over to you. Your hand reached down, adrenaline still pumping through your body, and you instinctively pulled the wooden piece out of your abdomen. You barely even felt it. Joel was silent the entire time, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. You threw it aside before noticing three more men coming your way. As fast as possible, Joel hiked himself up onto the horse and grabbed you while Ellie pushed from the ground before pulling herself up, you now sitting between the two. Joel didn’t let himself focus on the anxiety in his chest that blurred his vision- he needed to get you both to safety.

“Fuck,” you sighed, adrenaline wearing off a bit and pain seeping in. 

“Go!” Ellie yelled to Joel as you began to move. She grabbed her gun and shot backward at the men- she didn’t have the best aim, but it certainly deterred them from advancing anymore. Ellie kept peering over her shoulder, on high alert. If you weren’t putting all of your focus on staying conscious, you’d have noticed her slight tremble. You would have noticed Joel's body tense when your breathing slowed, his occasional glance over his shoulder. His erratic heartbeat as he tried to keep you talking.

“We’re gonna get back to Jackson and we’re gonna get some help,” Joel said over his shoulder. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice- he was excellent at hiding how he truly feels. 

“No,” you uttered, using all of your strength.

“Sorry, no?” Joel questioned.

“Get her to the fireflies,” you whispered before your vision began to blur. Your lifeless body crumpled off the horse, Ellie attempted to hold on but it all happened too fast. The cold snow was stained red, the warm blood leaving your body melting the snow directly beneath you. Joel and Ellie quickly hopped down, one on each side of you. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ellie panicked, hands shakily reaching towards your abdomen. 

“Ellie,” Joel said, voice laced with panic. He motioned for her to grab his pack while he placed his hands onto the wound, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers. He had never felt so helpless in his life- at least, not since Sarah. That same shuddered breathing coming from a person he loves- he couldn’t bear it.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do,” she asked. Joel continued to silently work on packing your wound with an extra flannel he had in his bag.

“It’s ok,” you croaked. They immediately turned to you on the ground, almost stopping in their tracks. “Just help me to that house,” you said, motioning towards a house about 50 yards away. You were struggling to breathe under the pressure of Joel’s hands on your wound- it almost seemed useless, you were still losing blood like crazy. Joel tied the flannel around your waist to try to keep the blood from seeping out. Once he decided you were situated, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the house. When you arrived, they gently placed you at the entrance, Ellie staying with you while Joel made sure the house was clear. He returned to help you inside, lying you on an old mattress. You let out a small laugh as you got situated.

“What?” Joel asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. How could you be laughing right now?

“Don’tcha think it's kinda cute?” you asked as he fussed with your bandages.

“What’s that?” he asked gruffly, not exactly in the mood for your attitude.

“Oh, just that I might be dying in your arms tonight. I dunno, feels like a movie,” you said, your pale lips curling into a smile. He gave you a look, pausing briefly to peer into your eyes. You wordlessly pleaded with him to lighten the mood a bit, for Ellie’s sake. He didn't say a word.

“Joel, what the fuck do we do?” Ellie repeated herself in her panic.

“It’s ok. You guys go. Now,” you said. Joel's eyebrows furrowed at this. “You leave, go north. Go to Tommy.”

“Um, the fuck?” Ellie asked. “I don’t know what you think this is but we're not leaving,” Ellie said, frustration creeping into her voice. She looked hurt by this, and it broke your heart. Were you doing the same thing Joel had done just last night?

“The kids right,” Joel said as you turned to look at him. “You’re either comin' with us or we're all campin’ here for the night. No in-between” Joel finished. You pleaded to him with your eyes again, begging him to just give up on you. The two of them would be fine, you knew it. But you didn’t know the emotional toll it would have taken on the stubborn man in front of you. He was stubborn, but so were you. Only you didn’t get a chance to prove just how stubborn you could be before you couldn’t fight the darkness that crept into your vision. 

-

You woke with a start the next morning. You often woke in a panic these days, but the feeling was only further cemented when you realized you didn’t quite recognize your surroundings. The only thing you could recognize was Joel’s eyes on you, which brought you some semblance of comfort. When he noticed you awake, he rushed to your side. As much as you could imagine Joel to “rush.”

“Hey, you uh, awake. You’re awake,” he said softly, trying not to wake Ellie asleep in the corner of the same dilapidated room you’d been in for a while now. 

“It would appear so,” you replied, attempting to sit up a bit.

“Hey, hey, relax,” he put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to lay back down. “Your infections bad. We managed to trade for some penicillin but it's not gonna be enough. We gotta figure out how to get you back to Jackson,” Joel said, lightly lifting your shirt to look at the wound.

 You cursed the heat rising to your face as Joel's fingers brushed your bare skin. You’d never been intimate like this before, though this was barely intimacy. He hadn’t ever touched your skin like this- with such delicacy. You were fragile to him at this moment, and you needed to be handled with care. You hated being a burden, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once.

You were too busy focusing on your own reaction to this gesture to notice Joels. His hands shook as he cared for your wound, wincing as he saw that it really wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t know what this meant- he wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he knew this wasn’t good. 

You were in and out of sleep throughout the next day or two, letting the dull, throbbing pain lull you into sleep. It hurt to watch Joel and Ellie worry about you, especially because there was nothing you could do to help. Your days felt numbered- the amount of penicillin was scarce and you weren’t feeling any better. You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open, much less speak. 

“Joel,” you managed to croak- you couldn’t even spare the energy to seethe at the pain pulsating throughout your body.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, kneeling next to you. He only called you sweetheart when he needed something- what did he need from you now? To live? “Whatcha need?”

“You’re special, you know that?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“And why is that?” he asked, wiping the tear.

“You really know how to make a girl fall in love,” you smiled- this isn’t something you ever planned on telling him, but as you lie there, vision blurring around the edges as the darkness caved in on you, there was nothing else you wanted to say.

Joel felt panic consume him when your eyes closed.

“Hey, hey darlin’, wake up for me, okay?” he pleaded. Ellie stalked over, panic heating her chest. “Ellie, grab her legs,” Joel said. It was like he was kicked into a new gear- he was going to do whatever it took to keep you with him.

-

You didn’t know where you were. The walls were unfamiliar and white- stark and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the couch in the corner of the room, occupied by your two favorite people. Joel sat upright, arms crossed and eyes closed. His brows were furrowed like he was having some sort of nightmare. Ellie’s expression mirrored his, as she lay on her side with her head resting on his leg, arms curled into her chest. Your heart warmed at the sight- he was becoming a father figure to her, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You tried to sit up, failing immediately as pain shot through your body. You winced, perhaps a little too loud, as Joel’s eyes shot open. Ellie remained in a deep sleep on his lap.

“You’re up,” he acknowledged, almost like it was too good to be true. He carefully shifted his body so he could move Ellie from his lap and onto the couch before he stood to walk towards you. “She hasn’t gotten much sleep, be best not to wake her,” he said, leaning down to brush a hair from her face. Seeing him be this gentle with her melted your heart. 

“How, um, how long was I out?” you asked, lifting the sheets to see your wound. It was covered and clean, but you knew it was there from the way it throbbed.

“About a week. Scared the shit out of… the kid,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He bit back what he truly wanted to say- you scared the shit out of him. But he wasn’t going to admit that you had that much of an impact on him. The second he lets others affect his life is the second he gets weak. There wasn’t a place for vulnerability in this world. “It was, a, uh, miracle that you lived.”

“Oh yeah?” your eyebrows raised. “Shit. I’m sorry for worrying… her,” you glanced at Ellie again as she snuggled into the couch. “How did I, um how did you guys get me here?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse from lack of use, but you tried to remain strong.

“We, uh, we gotcha back on the horse. Ellie led the way, I made sure you were safe, I mean, I just made sure you didn’t fall,” he replied, looking at his feet. “Took us awhile to get back, I… I didn't think you were gonna make it,” he replied, coughing to cover up the break in his voice. He was still in disbelief that you even woke up.

“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” you laughed weakly. Then it was silent for a few moments, the two of you stewing in your thoughts. “You know, I think if it had been anybody else with me, I would’ve just died,” you remarked. Joel shook his head.

“Well, that’s not true. You’re strong” he said quietly.

“Well, yeah, sure I’m strong. But I can choose not to be. I honestly would’ve been fine to die if it was in your arms. But I couldn’t do that to you. Not… not again,” you paused, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just… you’re it for me, Joel. You and Ellie- you guys are it. And if I can’t have you guys, well, let's just say I wouldn’t mind staying asleep,” you confessed, avoiding eye contact.

“Ahem…” you heard Ellie clear her throat from her position on the couch. “Sorry, I have a habit of snooping, but holy shit you’re awake!” she squealed, bouncing over to you and plopping herself onto you in a hug. She knocked the wind out of you, and you may have cared if you weren’t so happy to see her.

“Hey, hey, easy on her now,” Joel said, pulling Ellie back from you a bit. He was still quiet, processing what you had just said to him.

“Ahhh, my sweet Ellie girl, how I missed you so,” you smiled, pinching her cheeks.

“Bullshit, you were definitely just dreaming about Joel the whole time. Must’ve been nice, sleeping that long,” she laughed. You ignore the first part of her sentence.

“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty well rested,” you smiled, ruffling her hair and pulling her into another hug.

“I’m gonna go get someone, a nurse,” Ellie excused herself from the room, leaving you with Joel yet again.

“I’m sorry if that was too mu-” you started before Joel cut you off.

“No, no, don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he said softly. It wasn’t a whisper- it was just soft. He’d been so soft with you. “I… I can’t say I don’t feel the same,” he looked down at his shoes.

“Oh, uh, you do?” you blushed. You felt so childish, like you were admitting you had a crush on him, but it was more than that. It was a partnership, a dependency- a loyalty to one another that didn’t need a label. Only, you couldn’t hide the way you felt anymore.

“Gosh, I can’t even tell you how it felt to see you like that. It should’ve been me, you know,” he said, disappointment evident on his features.

“Um, no, it shouldn’t have. Besides, how would we have gotten your big ass back to Jackson?” you giggled, grabbing his hand. His expression changed then as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Joel, what does this mean?” you asked.

He chose not to respond with words- they were never his strong suit. Without a word, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. It was soft and it was sweet and it was like nothing you had ever experienced before- not from someone you loved. You reciprocated, weaving a hand into his hair to pull him closer.

“Yeah, they’re just in here-woahhhhhhh!” Ellie yelled, giggling and running out of the room. Joel quickly pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“That little shit,” he sighed.

“Well, she was gonna have to find out somehow,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles.

[myhotwifeadventutes]

PART 2

Over the next few months things were going well hubby embraced our new lifestyle and started getting used to his new sexual limitations. He only gets to eat my pussy when it’s full of cum he gets no more sexual intercourse or blow jobs or hand jobs those are reserved for my boyfriends. My next significant adventure was Josh he was a very good friend of my husband we would often go out with him and his wife. I honestly never really found him attractive but since he started having issues with his wife he was hanging around allot more. One night he was hanging with hubby watching a game and it was the first time I really noticed him checking me out. I was in my yoga pants and a tank top and I caught him several times looking at my ass of course me being a tease I made sure to bend over a few times and give him a really great view. The upcoming weekend we had plans as couples to have them on our boat. When Saturday morning came around he called to say his wife wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t make it and if we wanted he would bow out too. Of course my husband said don’t be silly come hang out with us. I have to admit I took a little extra time picking out my bathing suit.

I knew he would be checking me out so I put on a really sexy one piece leopard print that was high cut in the back to show off my ass and also showed some nice cleavage. He got to the dock around lunchtime. We had some rosé and some sandwiches. He admitted to us that his wife didn’t come not because she was sick, but because they were arguing. The conversation was more between me and him at this point he was explaining his marital situation and problems that they were having and I found myself feeling sorry for him. He really seemed so thoughtful and sweet. I have to admit I was really attracted to him.

The wine definitely help me feel sexy and I flirted with him as much as possibly could I made sure he got great views of my ass and down the front of my bathing suit I let him put lotion on my shoulders and my back every chance I got I put my hands on his back and his waist until finally he started putting his hands on my waist and my ass from behind. He seemed a little uncomfortable with hubby around so I made like it was just innocent flirting and I was a little bit drunk. When it was time to leave I volunteered to walk him up the ramp and off the dock I told him to call me if he needed to talk and I made sure he had my number I gave him a big long hug his hands slid down by my ass i gave him a quick little kiss on the lips and he pulled me closer forcefully and gave me a nice long kiss while he was feeling my body as much as he could.

After our kiss, I acted playful and told him he was being a bad boy and we went our separate ways. When I got back to the boat, I made like nothing happened, and I didn’t mention anything to hubby. Although he obviously saw me flirting with Josh all day he didn’t mention anything either later that night we were watching TV and I just whispered in his ear. I think your friend Josh really liked my bathing suit and I went up to bed I really wanted him to think about it all night.

Sunday was uneventful Monday late morning

I got a text from Josh thanking me for talking about his marriage and listening to his problems he said it really meant a lot to him. I said, of course, anytime I really enjoyed talking to you too. A little while later, he texted me again and we exchange texts about vacation plans, and summer and boating he then said to me I hope me texting you is not making you uncomfortable. I took this opportunity to be a little bit of a flirt and I said of course not it could be our little secret and I gave him a 😘

A few texts later, he asked me what I was doing for the rest of the day. I told him I was going to the gym to work out. He asked me if I was wearing my yoga pants. I said yes I’m wearing my Lululemon. Why do you ask? He said you looked so hot the other day in your yoga pants when I saw you I said I know I saw you looking at my ass. I asked him if he wanted to see a quick pic so I sent him a nice pic of my ass in my Lululemons. Later that night he text me saying he’s been looking at my picture all day with a heart so I sent him another one I had taken earlier in my bra and panties and asked if he wanted to meet me for lunch tomorrow. He said he was dying to see me that he would leave early and meet me anywhere I want

I told him to meet me at the boat at 2pm and bring us something for lunch that I would bring the wine. Our texts were getting more heated I asked if he wanted me to wear a bathing suit or some sexy lingerie he said I was making him so hard and choose the lingerie. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough I did some morning errands put on a sexy black lace bodysuit under my clothes and text Josh I was on my way.

I sent hubby a pic of me in my bodysuit and text him I had a lunch date with a new boyfriend and I want you to think about me all afternoon giving him my pussy don’t text back.

I got to the boat and got everything ready I put out wine glasses out made sure our cabin bed had clean sheets I took off my clothes and waited in my bodysuit sitting on a little sofa we have off the kitchen area. Being with hubbys friend was making me so wet. Josh finally walked in i told him to come sit next to me I asked him how he liked my bodysuit and he just started kissing me he kissed my lips, and my neck worked his way down to my tits and was kissing my nipples through the bodysuit, telling me how sexy I am and how he’s been dreaming about this for so long he really took his time touching me and kissing me he finally undid the snaps on my bodysuit started licking and kissing my pussy. He said I tasted so good. I told him I didn’t want to come that way. I took him into the cabin and laid him on the bed told him I couldn’t wait to feel his cock. I undid his pants and pulled his cock out. It was so big and hard. I begged him to put it inside me so he rolled me over and I helped him guide his cock in my pussy. He felt so good fucking me. I asked him please not to come, I want you to keep fucking me let’s cum together we both couldn’t take it much longer. After a few more strokes I heard him start moaning, and we both came almost simultaneously. we laid there for a bit while he was inside of me and then he got up and totally took off my bodysuit. We laid there, kissing he was kissing and feeling my nipples a lot. He said they were really sexy, I was rubbing his cock and when I fell it get hard again, I knew it was my turn to make him feel good. I started sucking him and licking him, I took his whole cock in my mouth I knew by his grunts and moons that I was making him feel great. He asked me to please stop. He said I just need to fuck you again. He pulled me onto the bed and flipped me over and entered me from behind. He was really fucking me hard. I had another orgasm in just a few seconds, but he kept going for another minute or two and then gave me another huge load. We took a little break and went back out into the kitchen area had a glass of wine and ate some sushi that he brought he mostly talked about how happy I made him the last few days while he was sitting drinking his wine, I climbed back on top of him and straddle him, I started kissing him and I could feel him getting hard immediately. His cock went right back into my pussy and I was sitting on top of him bouncing up and down on his cock. I begged him for one more load, I told him to please come inside of me and fill me with his cum. This time was not as quick. He was really fucking me for a long time until he finally came. I needed a few more seconds and then I came right on top of his cock. We kissed and cuddled for at least another half an hour before it was time to leave. I told him he was amazing and I can’t wait to see him again after he left. I straightened up and got dressed. I text hubby to ask him where he was and he said he was on the way home from work how was lunch? I told him I was freshly fucked. I have three huge loads of cum in my pussy for you to eat. I’ll meet you at home. I got home just a few minutes before him. I greeted him at the door in my bodysuit. I asked him if I smelled like sex because I have been getting fucked all afternoon while you were working I handed him my phone And told him to read this whole conversation and come upstairs I’ll be waiting for you. When he walked into the bedroom, I told him not to say a word. Just come here and eat all your friends Josh’s cum right now and that was our first experience with humiliation

[letorip]

casual [iii]

"i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself, hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell"

===+++===

pairing: natalie scatorccio x reader

summary: you're not just going to let her go, this time. after long enough, you arrive at the very obvious conclusion that you're in love, and there's very little else to be done about that

warnings: mentions of sex, cuss words, a bit of angst but i promise a happy ending :)

word count: 7.2k

A/N: all good things must come to an end. trust, i'll write for nat again. also i stayed in that airport so fucking long it was like purgatory, and i'm so sorry it took longer than i thought, i've had an exhausting past two weeks and just needed to stop and breathe for a minute

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THAT ONE ANON I FEEL BAD I'M LATE

===+++===

===+++===

"Please tell me you didn't do it on my sheets," Lottie groaned, lip curled in disgust and eyes hidden by her sunglasses.

"Sorry," you said back from behind your own pair, without looking away from the crystal blue of her pool water. You both were splayed out on her sun-bleached deck chairs, with matching hangovers (and bathrobes) that made the bright, beaming sunlight a whole new level of awful.

Her house was in disarray around you both, with crushed beer cans and overturned chairs all across the pool deck. Some cigarette butts floated in the water and you were certain the sprinklers in her garden were misting a pile of vomit and washing it down the front of her lawn, but neither of you made a move to get up and deal with it yet.

At the far end of the Matthews' pool, there was a statue of a mermaid that doubled as a fountain, spitting water in a gentle stream. Someone had put a snapback that said 'I <3 BOOBIES' on her and a bit of lipstick around the area that water shot out, and though usually you would have laughed, you instead were a bit annoyed by how it was taking you out of what would've been a nice scene.

There was just something about waking up and seeing Nat had gone without any sort of indication, that sparked the sudden urge within you to reconnect with nature. So you were reconnecting— more like brooding— on Lottie's pool deck in a peaceful silence.

After what felt like thirty minutes but was probably more like five, she turned to you. "Do you wanna—”

“—Talk about it?” you finished, raising your eyebrows. You shook your head. “No.”

She pouted. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to make pancakes.”

“Oh… then yes.”

You both lazily trudged into her equally wrecked kitchen, with even more cans and spilled liquids thrown over her marble counters. There was a burnt bag of popcorn sitting in the sink and the garbage can underneath it was overflowing with paper towels, but Lottie's kitchen was big enough where you could ignore it entirely, jumping up to sit on the clean countertop near her massive range cooker.

When Lottie said 'make pancakes,' she really meant she would be the one cooking and you would be there for moral support, if anything. You were gifted in many things but cooking or anything of the sort had never been one of them. Instead you leaned your head against the massive stone hood, and watched her from the pair of sunglasses you still wore.

Nat had laughed at you, when you said you didn't know how to cook. Not an omelette, not mac and cheese, and barely a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Of course, you assumed the last one wouldn't be hard to figure out, but you hadn't ever made one before, and it made her laugh into your chest, where her head had been resting. It hurt a bit now, but you had the sunglasses to shield your eyes while you stared off into space.

"Chocolate chips?" Lottie asked, running a hand through her dark hair and combing out a few knots with her fingers. You nodded, and she turned back to the pan in front of her, grabbing a fancy looking bag from a stack of supplies nearby. "My dad brought fresh chocolate back with him from when he was in the Caribbean a few weeks ago," she said to you, sprinkling it into the pan and flipping it over.

"Is he going to be pissed you're using it for pancakes?" you mumbled, feeling your headache return.

"No more pissed than he'll be when he sees that Jeff and his friends cut off the leg on one of his horse-shaped hedges." You winced, hopping down from the counter and feeling your back still scraped raw from, well, Nat. Lottie shot you a look. "That heated, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, heading towards the kitchen island and grabbing some of the beer cans to toss in the rubbish. "She's made her decision clear. I'm honestly done with it. I don't care anymore."

Lottie didn't say anything, turning back to the pancakes and sliding them on a plate as you slid into the barstool at the other end of her island and rested your head on your elbows. "I mean, she called me selfish, Lottie, and then said she loved me multiple times, minutes later. Who the hell does that?"

"Mhm," she hummed, sticking her spatula and the pan in the sink and then moving to the walk in pantry to grab syrup and powdered sugar.

You watched her go, calling after her. "She disappears for days after she gets mad about me talking to people, and then I see her immediately with Bobby Farleigh of all people, and they're cuddling up! I'm done with it all."

"Okay," Lottie said, reappearing with her arms full and tossing them down on the kitchen island. She clambered up into the seat next to you and stole some of the plain ones for herself, before covering them in syrup.

"And," you continued, remembering something else as you began cutting up the pancakes and smothering them in powdered sugar, "she egged my fucking house! How could I even forget about that? I mean, what was I thinking? I don't want to talk about her."

"Oh yeah," Lottie snorted. "You really don't want to talk about her."

You shot her a glare, stuffing your mouth with an angry fork. "I'm serious, Lottie."

"You wish," she scoffed. "If you were serious— and I'm not trying to be mean— but if you were serious, you wouldn't be ranting all about her. I know you keep saying it's impossible and it can't happen with her, but you sure as hell seem like you want it to happen with her."

You frowned, taking a forkful and stuffing it into your mouth. Right as you did, a couple sheepishly walked down the hall and towards the front door, clothes obviously messed up. They sent you an awkward wave and Lottie gave a quick nod in their direction, turning back to her plate. "Then why'd she leave?" you asked, when the door was shut behind them.

She shrugged. "Why the hell would I know? If anyone here would be the Natalie-whisperer, it would be you."

"Yeah well, apparently not," you huffed, shoving more pancakes into your mouth.

"I mean, it's not like you guys were on glowing terms before you... y'know. Wasn't gonna magically all be fixed, after." You groaned, leaning your forehead down onto the cool marble countertops. It actually felt nice, against your raging headache, but you still felt like crap.

"Would've at least been nice for her to wait until I woke up to go. No 'goodbye,' no 'we should talk,' nothing. When we were just hooking up and stuff, I at least always waited to say goodbye."

"So it's not just hooking up, anymore?"

"I don’t know what it is, Lottie. You tell me, because apparently everyone knows but me." She shrugged, finishing her plate and pushing it away from herself.

"I have an answer, but you're not gonna like it."

"...No, I'm not in love with her."

"You absolutely are."

"I'm done with this!"

"You keep saying that."

"'Cause I am."

"Okay."

"I'm done," you frowned, attempting finality in your tone and coming far short.

"Right," she snorted, and then she stood to grab your now-finished plate too. "Can you help me?”

It took around three hours, to get the Matthews house back to its usual formality. You sprayed burnt and disturbed bushes with the hose, threw out bag upon bag of party rubbish, and vacuumed cigarette butts off the carpet of her living room, silently working while Lottie played some records on her grandfather's old gramophone.

Her dad usually put jazz records on it or snooty classical music, whenever you were over, but Lottie had Dancing Queen blasting throughout her house and was hopping around as she snatched stuff off the mantle and shoved it into bags, turning to you and yelling a lyric from time to time, along to the music.

This wasn't your idea of fun by a long shot, but you could appreciate Lottie trying to make it fun.

"So, how much convincing did you have to do, to get Laura Lee here at a party? I mean, with the alcohol," you asked with a snort, grabbing an almost empty bag of crisps and tossing yourself down in her father's leather armchair to finish them off.

Lottie flushed. "A really embarrassing amount," she admitted. "I kind of glazed over that part."

"I'll bet she was surprised?" you asked with an amused crunch.

"It wasn't even that— this guy from my third period started going at it with this girl right in front her. I had to literally stop her from going over there to talk to them about waiting until marriage."

You shrugged. "I mean, she seems to like you a whole lot."

"She does," Lottie nodded. "She's so sweet to me, and she has the best hand to hold, like, ever."

"Honestly, I'm surprised, but happy for you. You're in a big ol' throuple with Jesus Christ."

"Ha ha," Lottie rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at you. "At least whatever we have is holy. I don't even want to think about you and—"

But whatever dig she would've said was cut off by her doorbell ringing. You sighed, letting your feet down from where you had propped them up on the side table and wiping the crumbs on your bathrobe.

"I'll get it," you grumbled, leaving Lottie to clean. When you opened the door there was absolutely no way you could've prepared to see her so soon.

Nat stood awkwardly in the entryway, looking just as surprised to see you as you were to see her. She wore a pair of blue shorts she practiced and slept in, and staring right back at you was the shirt you thought had gone missing weeks ago, barely hidden behind the ratty zip up hoodie she had over it.

Her eyeliner was still smudged from the night before in places, and you stared at her blankly, waiting for her to say something— anything, really.

"I forgot my damn lighter," she said, casting her eyes to the floor after a moment.

"Oh," you replied, feeling a bit stupid suddenly, in your bathrobe and sunglasses, with your flip flops for shoes. You looked like you were mid-spa day, or like someone's drunk uncle on a cruise. Then, before you could stop yourself, you felt an annoyance twinge in your gut, and said "Is that all you've got to say?"

Her eyes shot up, looking challengingly at you, in what was a clear frustration. "What do you want me to say?" But the answer went unsaid, even as much as you didn't like it. That you came back for me.

"I don't know..."

"Great," Nat scoffed. She looked over your shoulder into Lottie's house, as if her lighter would appear behind you and jump right into her hand, and she would just be able to leave. "Can I just have my—"

"—Why did you egg my house?" you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to block the door a bit more. She raised her eyebrows at you, confused.

"What?"

"You egged my house, after our argument," you repeated, slower, feeling the tips of your ears burning.

"No the hell I didn't."

"Yes the hell you did," you argued back, leaning forward with your hands on your hips. "You're the only one with the gate code. I get it, you were mad, but—"

"—Fucking Christ, I didn't!"

"You wrote a giant 'fuck you' on my house. No one else would."

Nat glared. "I didn't invent it. Is it such an impossible thing for you to consider that maybe not everyone is Team (Y/n)? I don't mean to break your brain, but for once somebody might actually dislike you."

You rolled your eyes. "You're the only one with a history of breaking rules and doing shit."

"So, what, you think I would do that to you?"

"Maybe you would. Maybe you don't care about me at all. That's why you ran off, wasn't it?"

She narrowed her eyes at you. "I had to go, before my dad caught me out."

You shook your head. "Bullshit. You've stayed out, before."

"Oh, so now you're mad that I'm not cuddling up to you?"

"That's not cuddling, that's having me stick my fingers in you and then you run off. You were pissed at me a few days before, Nat, for literally the same thing."

"It's almost like it's confusing, (Y/n), when you get mixed signals. And no, I got pissed at you because you went shopping for girlfriends— which, I'm assuming because you're being an oblivious, self-righteous asshole, you're still doing."

"Yep, still looking," you glared at her. She glared right back, just as steely.

"Great."

"Great," you replied. It was annoying, how good she looked when she was frustrated. She was great at looking mad, and even better at looking good when she was mad. The furrowing of her eyebrows, wrinkling of her nose in anger; she had the face you wanted to kiss away. It was impossible not to wonder, if doing so would uncurl her fists and smooth out the lines on her forehead.

Then you stopped. Holy shit. Everything seemed awful, like a massive case of vertigo had just washed over you. You had had hangovers before, but this somehow seemed infinitely worse. See, a thought had finally self-realised itself within your little peanut brain.

I'm in love with Nat.

It made the ceiling feel like the floor, and Nat sent you a concerned glance and seemed about to question your change in expression, when Lottie came from behind you.

"Hey, Nat," she said with an awkward smile, brushing past you with a look and then handing her the lighter quickly. "Excited for nationals?”

"Yeah," Nat nodded, but her eyes were still glaring at you. She cleared her throat, finally looking off. "Thanks, Lot. Great party."

"Mhm," Lottie nodded, trying her best to seem at ease and not at all like she was walking in on a code-red situation. "Have a great weekend! Bye now! Get home safe! See you!" She rushed, tugging you from beyond the doorway and giving a wave, before shutting the door.

The moment the door was closed, she gave you an unappreciative stare, but your eyes were wide and your cheeks flushed.

"What?" asked Lottie, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"I...I think I'm in love with her."

===+++===

Your home was just as empty as it was when you had left the night before. Reginald wasn't even due to come in, since your mother and father weren't home and it was a Saturday. Even the groundskeeper and maid had the day off, and the groan you let out at finally returning home and falling onto the warm rug on your living room floor echoed against the walls of your empty house.

In your hand was the letter you found in your mailbox. A cool black and Princeton-orange colour. You already knew what it said, without even looking into it. Your father and mother went there. His father and mother, too. For years and years and years. And now, if you followed the rules set out in front of you, you too.

It was impossible not to wonder, when the fog of privilege would slowly cloud your brain. Would it be the law degree from a private school, or legacy admissions? The more frightening thing was that maybe Nat was right: it had already set in, and you unaware. You at least felt different than the rest of them. That made you different, right? You and Lottie?

The image of Nat seemed ever-prevalent. Glowering at you, like she had been in the doorway. In your shirt. With that frown. The frown that you wanted to kiss away, but would never be able to. A Scatorccio, of all people. Of all people, you had to be in love with the one person you couldn't have.

It felt simultaneously like life had resolved into something more clear and understandable, and something more depressing and doomed. You wanted to forget the realisation, and the acceptance as well. Maybe it was truly better when you were promising your friends that you felt nothing of the sort.

Your eyes flitted from where they stared at the ceiling over to the giant brown bookcase in the corner, stacked high with thick volumes of what your dad had once said were family records, but you had never grabbed one off yourself. The one that stuck out against the brown leather-bound books was a more sleek, grey memoir with your grandfather’s name printed onto the hard cover casing.

That one you had read— your father had made you read it, when you were fourteen, and your parents gave up on trying for another kid. It wasn’t as dreadfully boring as you thought it would be, but it was still a memoir about a stuffy stockbroker from the 80s, with all the parts involving cocaine conveniently edited out, but not your grandfather’s insane escapades with women.

Your father was in the process of writing his own edition, and had thereby implied that he expected you to write one for yourself. You didn't know what you could possibly write about, but then again there was the expectation you write about it anyway. You weren't a guy on Wall Street, you weren't an international businessperson. You didn't even know what you were going to school for, yet.

Next to the bookshelf in equal intimidation was a painting of your family that your father had commissioned years ago. It was back when you still had braces and acne, but thankfully the artist had removed both. You hadn't been allowed to smile for it, though that's what child-you thought you did for pictures. Instead, you and your parents' mouths were drawn into disapproving lines and hardened expressions, and the golden plaque at the bottom wore your surname in proud, powerful letters.

You sighed, sitting up onto the palms of your hands and then standing slowly, still a bit uncoordinated. You sent the painting a final glance before you wandered to the phone, grabbing the thing and checking your watch while you did it. You slumped down into the seat at the end of your dining room table, where your father usually sat, and pulled the antenna from the top, punching in the numbers absentmindedly as you stared out the window onto the garden and the pool.

The number was for your father's Monaco residence, and you waited with a jumping knee and wry expression while it rang. Eventually, though, your mother picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, mother."

(Y/n), darling, is something wrong? You know to call Reginald first, in case of emer—"

"—No, nothing is wrong, mother. Look, I actually wanted to ask you a question."

"Well, go on then. We're about to go out to dinner."

"...Mother, do you have Julie Roosevelt's number?"

Silence on the end of the line. "Absolutely!" You didn't need to be there with her to hear the smile in her voice. "What for?"

You swallowed. "I think I'll try to take her out tonight."

"Well! Darling, that's just wonderful!" You nodded into the receiver, not like she could see it. "Make sure to wear your nice shirt, we don't want to upset the Roosevelts! I hope you know, I'm proud of you for this, really." You almost mentioned getting accepted into Princeton. Almost. But you decided not to mention it. It wasn't like you wanted to think about it anyways.

From the far wall, you could see the painting of the woman with the blue eyes staring at you.

===+++===

The local mini golf was always busy, but Saturdays were absolutely the busiest. There were couples upon couples who had the exact same idea, and were wandering around with their hands together and beaming at one another like they were living in a rom-com in the real life.

And yet you stood there with your hand in Julie Roosevelt's, and a massive frown on your face. It wasn't one that you'd let Julie see— every time she glanced in your direction, you'd quickly replace it with your best smile, showing her your teeth— but it was one that you knew you wore when she turned away.

"Sorry about the late notice," you said. You dropped her hand and went to grab a putter from the front, handing it to her and then grabbing one for yourself.

"It's okay, I was wondering if you were ever going to talk to me again," Julie laughed, a bit awkward. You winced. It's not like you could be honest, and say that you didn't intend to. The truth was, that while Julie was a bit shallow, she was also a bit too nice to deserve this one-sided thing.

Of course, there was the hope that you grew the love your mother spoke of. Maybe it would hit you, and alleviate you from Nat, who seemed to haunt your thoughts even more now, that you were aware she had captured your heart.

"I was just busy, this past week," you shrugged. "It's kind of a big deal for the Yellowjackets, and both of the teams are practicing and stuff...so."

"Wow. I guess you really like the Yellowjackets then, huh?"

"Uh...something like that, yeah. It's a big deal." She hummed, then took her things out onto the first green.

You let her go, standing behind her and watching with a grin and the scorecard in your pocket. Mini golf was something you took pride in being good at. But, then, of course, Julie let the ball drop, took a second, and gently hit the ball around the bend with a near perfect curve, and right into the hole.

"Yay!" she cheered, jumping up and down in celebration.

"Wha—"

Julie put her hands on her hips with a teasing grin. "Captain of the golf team, remember?" You hadn't.

"Right..."

You played a terrible game, for the most part. You stood at the end of the second-to-last hole with the scorecard in your hand and a whole bunch of big numbers on your side of the table. Julie was beaming from ear to ear, though you weren't exactly sure why.

It had been pretty much silent, with the two of you failing over and over again to find an interesting thing to talk about. It wasn't the calm, pleasant silence like it was with... well, it didn't matter now. You filled in a four, two shots over the par, and made your way over to where Julie was crouching down, to get a better view of the final hole.

"Actually wait, there's a special way you have to play this one," you called out to her, and she turned to you with a puzzled expression.

"What do you mean?"

"It's kind of local tradition here," you shrugged. You weren't even sure if that was true, you just knew that it was what Nat had called it, when she taught you. "You have to swing really, really hard, and to win, you've gotta get it over the fence," you pointed, "and right into the back of that neighbourhood."

She blinked at you for a moment, and then Julie frowned, looking down to the ground. "That's mean, though. What if you hit someone's house? Or a window?"

"Bonus points," you shrugged. "I don't know, you can't really see where they go, once they're over the fence. It's fun."

Julie raised her eyebrows. "Don't you think it's a little immature? Why would I do that if I'm going to win for real?"

You opened your mouth to reply, then firmly closed it. "I guess you're right," you mumbled. It hadn't felt stupid when you suggested it, but Julie's disdain at the suggestion made you feel improper.

She did win, by a massive landslide, and you let her keep the scorecard with little protest. She was still beaming though, brightly at you like she had just had the best date of her life. Your stomach felt like it was tied up in a bunch of knots, but you smiled back at her nonetheless.

If love was something to be worked towards, you really hoped it would start working soon.

===+++===

You had only been home for about twenty minutes, when your phone started ringing. Off the hook. Over and over again. You knew who it was just from the ring, but that didn't mean you wanted to pick up.

After the disaster that was dropping Julie off at her house, you wanted to continue to staring at the ceiling. But after the sixth call back, it seemed Jackie wasn't giving up.

You picked the phone up with a frown, rolling over and smushing your chin into the bed. "Hello—"

"—OH MY GOD, YOU AND JULIE?!"

You groaned. "Jackie I dropped her off like thirty minutes ago, how do you already know about this?"

"So it's true?! You're dating?"

You sat up. "What? No, we just went on one date."

"Really? Cause Julie told Margie who told Randy who told Jeff, who told me that you kissed her and you're going out!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. And it wasn't even like an actual kiss, she like, pecked me, and then scrambled out of my car and up her driveway."

"Well, she's saying you're going steady."

"'Going steady?' The 40s called, they wanted their slang back."

"Ha ha," Jackie said back, and you could hear the eye roll. She went silent. "...I bet your mom is happy."

"Probably..."

"Are you happy? You're probably a shoe-in for prom court, especially since I'll be out of town. Your mom won't let you go to nationals, will she?"

"No. She'll want me and Julie to go to prom together."

"Well, I mean, at least you'll win, right? That's gotta be exciting?"

You looked over to your nightstand, where you had a polaroid of you and Nat that sat taped to the side. "Thrilled."

"(Y/n)? You okay, hubby?"

You took a sharp swallow. "Yeah, I'm fine. Julie's great."

"Right...," she paused again, "does Nat...does she know?"

"I don't think so... It's only been like, thirty minutes."

"She will soon, though. Monday."

"Yeah...I guess she will soon."

===+++===

Monday was terrible. It seemed Julie had taken the awkward attempt at kissing you as the sign that you were together. She was there at your car when you first arrived, grinning again while you and Lottie got your things for school out of the second row. Then, the moment you had locked your car, you were tugged along by a hand grabbing yours.

You didn't exactly have a good reason to be grossed out. Julie was beautiful, and if you had felt the same way for her, you would have been thrilled with the enthusiasm. Hell, if it were... well. So, you mostly let her drag you wherever she wanted.

There was about a week, to run for prom court. Your mother had promptly called you that morning to insist on prom, and insist on shopping for prom, when she returned home on Wednesday, from Monaco. It was all Julie would talk about, and you were starting to wonder how much of this was a political move for her too, rather than one of genuine interest in you.

You first saw Nat coming down one of the halls, and you hesitated a bit the moment you saw that she noticed you. Or, that she noticed you and Julie together. It was the walk of shame, frankly. You didn't belong to her, in any formal sense. But your heart did, and that was enough for it to hurt. Badly.

It seemed to hurt her too. She immediately frowned, tugging on Kevyn's sleeve and walking in the opposite direction. You wanted to run after her, but Julie had an iron grip on your hand and a smile so bright.

It was awkward enough at lunch, with Julie insisting to sit next to you and to bring her golf friends. A few of them were nice, and Jackie managed to chat them up well enough to make even more friends than before, but Lottie had a frown the entire time, and Shauna looked less than happy.

Nat wasn't staring at you at lunch anymore. It was a startling realisation, that you wanted her to be looking at you. If anything, you were looking more at her. You kept turning around, trying to seem like you were just scanning the cafeteria, but Nat was firmly looking down at her food, at the same table as always.

You felt like a runaway dog that had temporarily shrugged off its collar, trying to find home with a tail between its legs. Julie was nice, and smart, and talented. But she wasn't the one. Your one.

===+++===

"Hey, you ready?" you asked Lottie, finding her out in the hallway in front of the locker rooms. it was Friday, and you both had your soccer bags slung over your shoulder, and were about to head out to practice, but Lottie seemed transfixed on a poster on the wall. "Hey now, you've got nationals tomorrow, no distractions," you tried.

"Is she seriously trying to make it seem like you two are soulmates?" Lottie said with a grimace. It was one of the ones Julie had made in two days, and was now putting all over the school to really earn you both the win. There was a drawing of you and her on it, with a heart in the middle, and 'VOTE JULIE & (Y/N) FOR PROM COURT 1996.' It was an objectively good design, but Lottie didn't like Julie very much— or at least had started to hate her, the longer you and her were together.

"I think it's because she has a crush on you," Julie said once with a pout, after Lottie had been less than welcoming to her on a ride home.

"No she doesn't," you shook your head.

"She definitely does. You shouldn't hang out with her as much, or people will think you and her are a thing. I mean, I did at first."

The whole conversation had only made Lottie more and more annoyed with her, and that was saying a lot, with how Lottie was usually nice to most people.

"Come on," you said, gesturing with your head out towards the pitch. "Last practice before nationals."

Lottie still had a frown on her face, but she followed you out there with her arms crossed. It was still relatively early, only a few people were out. Coach Martinez's son Travis was up in the bleachers, watching, while you could see Trevor and Misty talking next to the water cooler and Jeremy and Mari passing a ball back and forth to each other.

"Hey (Y/n)," a voice called from behind you, and you could feel a similar annoyance to Lottie's washing over you. You turned to see Carter Avery, back from his suspension, with a cheeky smirk on his face. "Miss me?"

"Not even close," you scowled. He brushed past you and Lottie, pausing for a moment when he was directly in front of you staring down in an attempt at intimidation. He kept walking though, until he paused, right at the edge of the pitch.

"Oh, and (Y/n)?"

"What."

"I think I need to borrow some eggs. You got any for me?" Your eyes widened. "What about toilet paper, then?"

It was intended to create anger in you. You knew he wanted you to charge at him or something, or to scowl, but all you did was stand there, in a stunned silence. You had thought that Nat would do that. That Nat could do that to you. Of course it wasn't Nat. You felt stupid and you felt guilty, and you felt even worse that you couldn't do much about either of those things. You could try, though. And maybe that would be enough.

Lottie sent you a knowing look, but all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. Maybe you could try to talk to her, after practice? It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

The Yellowjackets' moods were infectious, and it was impossible to not have a great time, at that practice. Their emotions were high, along with their excitement, and you started to feel a little bit better, the more you ran and the more you felt the wind in your hair.

Of course, that's when everything decided to go wrong. A single slide tackle from Taissa, right into Allie's leg, and everyone was panicking and yelling. You could see the bone sticking out from it, and Misty was bolting in your direction, hovering over her and attempting to right it.

"Can I get two people to carry her?" She shouted at both teams, and you immediately raised your hand, stepping forwards while Allie began to cry. You didn't even see who was grabbing her other arm until you had made it into the locker room, and Allie was still crying with Misty following behind and a very clueless looking Coach Ben behind her.

You should've known, it was her. She was selfless like that, even though she'd rather die than admit it herself. And yet, there Nat was, on the other side of Allie, laying her down on one of the locker room benches and raising her leg up. Misty ushered you both out into the hall, and suddenly both you and Nat were regretting volunteering.

You had to wait until she came out, so you would be able to carry her to the front, where the ambulance could arrive to take her to hospital, but until then it just meant you and Nat were forced to stand there in awkward silence.

It stayed that way, until you tried to speak. "So...nationals, hu—"

"Don't even," Nat snapped, shutting you up. She was twitching a little bit, in discomfort, and you knew right now that if it were outside, or if she were to have her bag, she would be pulling out a cigarette.

"...I know it wasn't you who egged my house. It was Carter... I'm...sorry."

"Real genius, aren't you."

"Allegedly. Not in practice, apparently," you admitted, sliding to the tiled floor in wait. She eyed you cautiously, but did the same, sliding down.

"Man, if I had a nickel, for every time we've been in this hallway with a serious injury... I'd have, what, two nickels?" You hummed, leaning your head back against the wall.

"That's not a lot," Nat said, rolling her eyes.

"No," you nodded in agreement, "but it's weird that it happened twice."

She thought for a minute, then shrugged. "I guess." You both could hear the whistle being blown outside, to end the final scrimmage and indicate that it was time to circle up.

"Don't you want to go hear that? Y'know, for tomorrow?"

Nat shook her head. "I'd rather be here for Allie. Though she's kind of an asshole."

You snorted. "She's a total fucking bitch."

"...Just so you know, I really did have to leave, after Lottie's party... I, uh, kissed your forehead, before I left... I guess you couldn't feel it though. You were asleep."

You shook your head. "I didn't know that..."

"...Yeah... my dad was being an asshole... it was a whole thing." You knew it hurt more than she was saying, right now, and you so desperately wanted to scoot closer, like you would've before things had gotten so messed up. Back when you were on the cusp of happiness.

"I'm sorry, Nat."

She shrugged again, like it didn't hurt, but you knew all too well. "For what?"

You would've said for being scared. For being weak. For not realising sooner. Anything. But instead you were interrupted by the sound of shoes on the tile.

Of course, there Julie had to be. She took a single look at Nat who was covered in sweat and a bit red from practice, and grimaced, before coming up to you and standing right over you, expectantly.

"Is practice over?" she asked, checking her watch. "I finished my club meeting. We have to go dress shopping— I want you there to colour match— and I need you to drop Margie off at her house, cause I said you would yesterday."

You blinked. "I mean... It kind of is? I should probably stay a bit—" you looked to Nat to see what she would say, but she was already standing up and walking off, taking the not so secret hint that Julie was telling her to get lost.

Julie watched her go, scowling behind her back and then spinning to you the moment the door clicked shut behind her. "What did she want with you?" she asked.

"We were just talking, Allie needed help."

"Well she's no good. She's one of those kids, y'know." You narrowed your eyes, getting up to your feet and wiping your hands on your shorts.

"What are you talking about?"

Julie tilted her head to the side, like she was confused by your confusion. "You must not have a lot of them, around here, but we had them all OVER, in Massachusetts. The town bicycles. Everyone wants a ride, if you know what I mean."

It was your turn to cross your arms. "No the hell I do not, Julie."

"Oh come on," she said, throwing up her hands. "She's trailer trash, at best. The delusional kind who thinks we'd look at her, like, ever. I mean, what's her body count, like over a hundred?"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you snapped at her, glowering.

"Okay, I know she's on the Yellowjackets, and she's clearly trying to get in your pants, but cmon. I'm your girlfriend, we can laugh about this kind of—"

"No, the hell you aren't. You're not my girlfriend, Julie, and you barely ever fucking were. That girl you just insulted is the best fucking person I know. She's selfless, she's kind, she makes me laugh—"

"Well then go sleep with her then!" Julie yelled, stomping her foot.

"Y'know what, I already have! And I fucking love her. So there!" And you turned right around and stomped back out onto the pitch.

===+++===

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you rolled your eyes, trudging down the stairs and calling out into the foyer. It wasn’t like whoever it was would actually be able to hear you, through the thickness of your door, if anything it was more to air your grievance with having to get up so fucking late. Your mom was once more distraught, now that you had kept the "perfect" girl for a single week and then promptly dumped her. Another vacation was in order.

Rain was still pounding on the roof from above, and it filled the emptiness of your house with a faint white noise, that was immediately shattered by the person pressing the button again. You rolled your eyes, deciding to walk even slower to the door out of nothing but spite.

When you actually opened the door, though, you had to blink a couple times, seeing a figure retreating already, down your drive. However long you had took had made them rethink why they were here, and you would've been all too happy to let the door close. That was, until you narrowed your eyes into the rain, just barely making out the shape of a familiar leather jacket.

"Nat?" You called into the storm, loud enough that there was no way she couldn't have heard you. You crossed your arms, thinking about how she had been earlier that day. "I know it's you, Natalie. Why the fuck are you here? You have nationals tomorrow."

She stopped in her tracks, just standing in it. She gently turned, shoulders rising and falling and it was clear she was breathing heavily. Her mascara was running in massive streaks down her face and dripping in small, grey droplets, and her eyes were sensitive and red, as if she had been crying and rubbed them raw. You swallowed what felt like a lump in your throat.

"This— all of this, with you— I— I can't," she stumbled, looking like a sad, wet dog in the rain.

"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows at her, walking out further onto your large, covered doorstep.

"I can't see you with her, (Y/n), I— I just can't."

"With Julie?"

Natalie threw up her arms in frustration. "Yes, Julie. I know she's perfect, or whatever, but— I— you can't be with her—"

"—Nat," you tried, stepping forward again.

"—Because I love you," she continued. You stopped in your tracks. It felt as if the air had been sucked right out of your lungs, even in the freshness brought by the storm. "I know we argue," her voice shook, "and I know we fight, and I know I smoke, and I curse, and I get bad grades, and my dad's a shithead, and I'm kind of an asshole sometimes— but I fucking love you, (Y/n). You.... I—"

"—Shut up," you said, shaking your head and rushing forward, out into the pouring storm. You collided with her, cupping her face in your cheeks and kissing her like the world would end in ten minutes. It would have, if you hadn't done it, and you had no idea how you had survived so long without doing it.

You kissed her once, and then you kissed her again, and then, when she was crying harder, and you were crying too, and she was holding onto your arms like you would fall away, you kissed her forehead, and held her tight in a hug.

"I'm selfish, and I'm a mess, and I'm never good enough for my stupid fucking parents," you said, over the rain and just for Nat, "and I don't realise that I hurt people 'cause that's not what my family does, and for that, I'm really, really fucking sorry."

She nodded in her tears, looking up at you as you both got rained on together. "But, I agree," you said, voice shaking, "we're not casual. I'm really, really fucking sorry, but I also really, really fucking love you, Nat. And I'm sorry I was too scared and too stupid, and," you raised your voice, as if to the sky, "I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING GO TO PRINCETON—" this time it was Nat who shut you up.

It was another kiss, but it was far more gentle than the first. It was a gentle press, and it took your breath away. When you pulled apart, you let your forehead fall against Natalie's. Even though the droplets were cold, you felt so warm.

After what felt like forever, but still wasn't long enough, Nat murmured to you, "should we go inside?" She still smelled like cigarettes and her perfume, just as she had in her trailer, and you intended to let the scent linger.

You shook your head. "Just stay out here a little longer with me. Please? Just let time pass."

She nodded, then smirked as she looked past you at the car on your driveway. "Fuckin' rich people."

===+++===

AAAAAND THAT'S CASUAL BABYYYYY! Finished at like 2 am. anyways, i'm tired and a little bit sleepy

[markiemelon]

honestly idk if you write anything except smau ( sorry i jst find out abt your blog ) but can you write something with sion ( nct wish ) x absolutely whipped head over heels reader who adores everything he does and he’s always shy because of that ( you can also write a yushi version too 💗💗 )

can’t help myself

genre. fluff, crack

pairings. sion x whipped gn!reader

11:11 am ੈ☆˳

you stood just outside the door of the dance studio, peeking into where sion and his members were practicing. dancing is truly his element, and you loved seeing him so passionate about it. after a bit, they wrapped it up and the guys left one by one, greeting you casually on their way out.

saying you’re obsessed with sion would be an understatement. it took everything in you to stop yourself from running in there and jumping onto your boyfriend, but you hate seeing couples get all touchy in front of everyone.. so with that in mind, you patiently waited for everyone to leave before running up behind sion and wrapping your arms around his back. “i missed you.” you squeezed him as tightly as you could.

hearing you say you missed him made him laugh a bit; it really hadn’t been that long.. but he was flattered, to say the least.

you noticed your reflection in the mirror on the wall in front of you. you could see your arms wrapped around him, and your head peeking over his shoulders. your stomach fluttered with butterflies, it was like a scene from a drama.

“i was watching you dance.” you smiled.

“oh. really?” he smiled back, and you could tell he felt embarrassed.

“yeah. you did so well.” you hugged him closer, if that was even possible.

he was caught off guard by your compliment, and you giggled at the way he desperately searched for the words to say in response. he just nodded bashfully, hoping you’d change the subject.

you pinched his cheek to relieve your cuteness aggression. “you’re so cute. i love you.”

it wasn’t hard for you to be honest with sion. saying “i love you” came naturally when you were around him. sion, however, was always left a blushing mess. your confident demeanor made him crumble.

sion turned to face you. you looked at him, eyes wandering over his features, admiring every single detail. when he shyly turned away, he noticed the grocery bag in your hand. “what’s in the bag?” he pointed. “oh. i brought you food!” you remembered, excited to show him. his flustered laugh was adorable. “you didn’t have to do that..” he brought his palm up to the nape of his neck.

“don’t be silly.” you nudged him. “you have to eat a lot after you dance like that.” you grabbed his wrist and led him out of the room to where a couch and table were.

after arranging the snacks on the coffee table, sion sat proudly before all the options. “which one do you want?” he presented two sandwiches to you.

"both are for you," you told him, not paying any attention to the food, instead focusing on evening out the way his fringe framed his forehead, ruffling his bangs in front of his eyes. sion flinched slightly at the unexpected touch. "you should eat something too..." he urged, his voice gentle but insistent.

"i just ate before i got here. so please, help yourself." you gestured politely to the snacks, but he slid one of the sandwiches closer to you anyway. he took a bite, and judging by the way he reacted, it must have been really delicious. “where did you get these?” his eyes widened, inspecting the sandwich. “why is it so good..”

“i’m glad you like it.” you laughed at how cute he sounded, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

sion was quietly enjoying his food until he noticed you still weren’t looking away from him. he stopped chewing. his side-eye gaze flickered with confusion and shyness.. yet you stared back, shamelessly. you quite literally could not look away.

“y/n.” he stuttered. "why are you just staring at me?" his cheeks glowing a light pink.

"can i not look at my boyfriend?" you teased.

"i'm not doing anything special," he tried to hide his growing smile behind another bite of sandwich.

"well don't mind me," you dismissed his concern, your eyelids fluttering with affection.

he tried not to mind you, but it was hard not to.

"stop staring at meee" he eventually pleaded, the flush on his cheeks deepening.

"okay fine. just keep eating. i won't look at you." you playfully turned your head the other way to make him feel better… but of course, you discretely turned to look at him again. it only took a second for him to catch you peeking, so you quickly looked away, making you scoff at how ridiculous this situation was.

he tried to keep chewing but he had to smile. “stop!!!” he whined, mouth full. the sight of him, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, made you giggle more.

“sorry, sorry.” you catch your breath from laughing. “i just can’t help myself.”

HI ANON I LOVE THIS REQUEST! TYSM 🫶🏼 I hope you like it! Also yeah I don’t just do smau! normally I just write LOL

—

perm taglist: @i03jae @dummyskirtz @sol3chu @yurikudon @onionhaseyoareumm @lexeees

*lmk if you wanna be added to this taglist to know when I post!

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the dead ringer

buttercup, chapter three

a/n: yeah, this did happen to me in real life, although it happened on a bus so i couldn't immediately get away... ANYWAYS! enjoy this hurt/comfort heavy chapter!

summary: “I think I know something that might help a bit.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, crying, panic attacks, matt using his superpowers for the sake of hurt/comfort, boxing

word count: 2057

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Drizzling the flour into the wide bowl, like a dusty snowfall, you watched the number on the scale carefully as you neared the desired number. Though just before you hit it, Walter’s head suddenly poked in through the doorway leading behind the counter and interrupted you and Howard’s all-too-important discussion on what the day’s music choice should be. 

“Hey, Y/n? There’s someone here to see you.”

Laying down the scoop still holding a bit of flour, you dragged your palms down the brown apron tied around your frame and exited the kitchen. A bright smile spread across your face and crinkled up your gaze as you spotted who was standing on the other side of the counter. 

“Matt, hey–, oh my god,” you then suddenly noticed the bruising that blossomed out from under his tinted glasses and stretched up over the patched-up scrape that split his left brow, “what happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just wasn’t paying attention last night, tripped and fell, that’s all,” he waved a hand, “I just wanted to stop by on my way to work, get a round of coffees to-go for everyone and perhaps some breakfast for myself, just whatever you think I’d like.”

“You’ll let me pick?” your eyebrows rose slightly. 

But Matt simply smiled and said, “I trust your judgment,” his grip shifted gently on the cane standing tall before his chest. 

As you moved to make the coffees, “alright,” you drew out a pondering breath, “are you in the mood for something sweet or savoury?”

Thinking about it a second, he uttered, “savoury.”

“Do you like sandwiches?” you popped the lids on the to-go cups. When he nodded, you placed the coffees in a little cardboard tray, “okay, I think you’ll like this one,” grabbed a brown paper bag and moved further down the counter, “it’s made with focaccia and has pesto in it as well as some tomatoes and cheese and stuff.” 

“That sounds amazing.”

“I also–, you know what? I’ll be right back,” you then abruptly turned and momentarily disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a few of the pillowy buns still on the cooling rack into a bag. As you returned, you also snuck a hand into the display case and stuffed a few other goodies into the sack, “just for the others, if they want,” you placed the bundle onto the counter beside the coffees, “I just pulled them out of the oven a bit ago and they’re still warm.”

“What is it?” Matt tilted his chin. 

“Uh, some raisin buns, but I also threw two croissants in there in case they didn’t like raisins...” 

A soft smile warmed his bruised features as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, “what do I owe you?”

“Oh no,” your hands waved lightly before you, “it’s on the house.”

“Y/n, come on,” he cocked his head. 

“Fine,” you light-heartedly sighed, “if you really wanna sing for your supper, then I’ll cash it in at a later date. I don’t know, maybe if I get arrested someday or something you could help me out.”

“You don’t have to bribe me with free baked goods for that.”

“No, but it sure doesn’t hurt, does it?” you chuckled. 

“No,” he joined in as he reached for the bags, “I guess it doesn’t.”

“You want some help carrying it?” you asked, hope seeping through your tone, “I could take my break and walk with you the rest of the way.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we just got through the morning rush, they’ll be fine without me for–, I don’t know, 15 minutes or however long it’ll take to walk to your office and back.”

“Alright, thanks,” he smiled, one paper bag hooked in the fingers that also clutched the cane.  

“I’m just gonna go grab my jacket, one second,” you said before ducking into the back to do so, letting your uncles know as you slipped out of your comfortable work clogs and into your sneakers. 

You ended up dividing the load, with you carrying the coffees and the last bag in one arm, though a few protests left you at first, begging him to let you carry all of it, they melted away as his free hand enveloped yours. 

When you reached his office, your arms wrapped around his frame as you hugged him long enough for your heartbeats to sync up, and just as you pulled away, his wide palms still warm on your back, you leaned in and planted a brief peck on his scruffy cheek. 

One of his hands swept up to meet the side of your face as your lips retracted. You pulled back so slowly that you weren’t sure you were moving at all, being drawn in by his warmth like a moth to a flame. 

His nose gently grazed against yours as he let himself linger, but just as your eyes fluttered shut in expectance that he’d kiss you, his warmth withdrew and he slowly breathed, “have a good day.” 

In a matter of seconds, you had gone from giggling, glancing down at some silly joke on your phone as you walked home, to panic instantly kicking in as a passerby’s voice pierced your soul and made your blood run cold.

Glancing around, you saw a stranger standing off to the side and yapping into his phone. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t Michael, but it sounded exactly like him, so much so that the tone sent your body right back to that very night as if no time had passed at all.

Willing your body to move, forcing it to conquer the short rest of the way home, once your front door shut behind you and your quiet apartment consumed you, painful sobs began to burst out of your trembling frame. Hyperventilating, you crashed into the nearby wall of the entryway directly across from the door, incapable of getting deeper into your home. 

Soon, a quiet and surprising knock found your door. 

“Y/n?” the worried tone of your neighbour sounded from the other side. 

Your shaky voice came out no louder than a whisper, “M-Matt?” 

There might not have been any other instances you could recall where accidentally forgetting to lock your door turned out for the better, because when Matt then tried the handle, it gently complied. 

Shutting it behind him, he rushed to you, “hey, hey,” he uttered softly, a hand soothingly finding your arm, “what’s going on?”

Attempting an answer, “I–, I–,” only incoherent sobs managed to seep from you. 

“Okay, alright,” he sucked in a controlled breath, one of his hands sliding up to the strap of your backpack, “how about we start by getting all the way inside, huh?” gently gliding it off you and resting the bag on the floor. 

You let yourself lean into him fully as he supported you on the short journey towards the couch. Wobbly taking a seat, his touch left you as he settled beside you.

Spine curving, you buried your puffy face in your trembling hands, letting the whole world drift away as small lakes were birthed within your palms from your pain. 

When the sobs eventually began to subsite, growing further and farther apart, your frame slowly unfurled. Instinctively flicking your hands before your form, you tried to physically shake even a fraction of the excruciating sensation off of you, but without success. 

Matt hadn’t moved an inch, simply stayed there right beside you. 

When your quiet voice eventually filled space, it came out broken and overflowing with emotion, “I thought it was him… it wasn’t, b-but it sounded exactly like him… I’ve done double takes every time I saw a stranger with the same haircut or felt nauseous every time I encountered the same name, but this really did sound like him. Same voice, same accent, same everything… but it wasn’t him… it wasn’t… it just sent me right back, you know?”

Hesitantly, you grasped his hand in yours, expecting the contact to only make it worse, to somehow taint and ruin his wonderful and soothing touch, but it didn’t, he didn’t. It was Matt. 

Trying to regain control of your breathing, you shakily sucked in deep breaths, feeling your gulps of air slowly become calmer and migrate from the very top of your chest, down to expand your sore stomach. Eyes only half open and utterly exhausted, you noticed that your head was now leaning against Matt’s shoulder. 

Glancing hazily down at yourself, you muttered, “fuck… I still have my shoes and jacket on…”

Reaching down, he offered, “here,” before sliding your coat off, resting it on the back of the couch, and leaning down to pull your shoes off. 

Curling your legs up onto the couch, the shift in your position offered you more relief than you’d expected. As you attempted to get as comfortable as you possibly could in the state you were in, you snatched up Matt’s hand once more. 

Offering your palm a soothing squeeze, he asked quietly, “what do you need, huh? What can I do?”

“I–…” you thought, your brain just as drained as your body was, “I don’t know… maybe–… maybe just be here a bit?”

Exhaling lowly, he flashed you a faint smile, “of course.”

Glancing down at his fingers, sweeping across your own, you said, “hey, Matt? Could you maybe–, uh… could you give me a hug?”

Not hesitating, his strong arms engulfed your quivering frame and a fresh wave of sobs swiftly bubbled out of you as he held you tight, though your cries didn’t push him away, he stayed steadfast, embracing you close till the eruption ultimately simmered down, leaving you nearly asleep against his tear-stained shoulder. 

As he gently lowered you down to lay on the couch, you tightened your grip on his shirt as he began to pull back, ushering him to sink down as well, allowing you to curl into his safe embrace and let slumber drift you away. 

When you finally stirred, the sun was nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey,” you blinked up at Matt still in the exact same spot as before. 

“Hey,” you replied groggily, “what time is it?” swiftly fishing your phone out of your pant pocket before Matt could conjure an answer, “oh, fuck… it’s nearly midnight… did you sleep as well?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, “maybe for a little bit, but no.”

“Oh…” you breathed, averting your gaze. 

“How are you feeling?” his thumb swiped your waist where his broad palm was planted. 

“…I don’t know…” you exhaled, “…exhausted… sad… angry… really fucking angry… so angry that it kinda scares me…” 

After a beat of silence, with only your woeful breaths filling the space, Matt then uttered, “I think I know something that might help a bit.”

Your gaze drifted from the faded paint on the walls to the worn punching bags as you and Matt sat on the edge of the central ring and his fingers worked at wrapping up your hands. 

“Do you come here a lot?” you asked, your vision gliding back to him. 

“From time to time,” he tilted his head slightly, “reminds me of my dad,” tucking the last end of the strip under the weave, securing it into place, he closed your hand into a fist and exhaled, “alright, you’re ready,” he adjusted your grip, briefly offering your wrist a squeeze as he said, “just remember to keep your wrist strong and your thumb right here,” he slid your finger down below your knuckles. 

You hadn’t gone into it with much hope, in fact, it was only out of your desperation just feel better that you even humoured the experiment. In the beginning, it did feel as silly as you’d imagined, nearly stopped completely, but at some point in the mess of it all, your punches grew more ferocious, they grew more brutal, and suddenly something inside of you snapped and unravelled. It wasn’t some magic pill, but the physical act did loosen something within you and gave away to a fresh release of sobs, though not the painful and unbearable kind you’d had to endure earlier. It was the kind that felt like relief. Even if it wasn’t permanent, in that very moment, you didn’t feel like you were drowning anymore. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[sansaorgana]

Hi! It's anon from the period thoughts hehe! I think you're spot on with all of that! Thank you :) Any chance you can do a fic with it?

Gale w/a girlfriend or wife that's having awful period cramps/day?

hiii 😘 guess who started her period today? ME 🤣 when I realised this request is next in the line to be written I laughed 😛 because it's something I'm going through at the moment, I got a bit carried away and it's quite long for a cute little fic like that haha 🥰

I have about 10 MOTA requests to write in my inbox 😅 so please, go easy with them for a while 👉🏻👈🏻 especially that requests for Feyd are open now, too 🤩

You were laying on the couch under a blanket, mindlessly watching the TV with your eyes hazy from the painkiller you had taken. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working for the pain but it was making you feel even more dazed out.

When you heard the front door opening, you sensed the feeling of guilt forming a knot in your stomach. Buck was coming back home after work and not only his house hadn’t been cleaned but also there was no dinner waiting for him on the table. You hoped he’d survive on the sandwiches but you felt bad for him.

“I’m back!” He announced his arrival but you didn’t move. You simply couldn’t.

You heard him undressing and taking his shoes off before peeking into the living room and looking at the TV.

“You’re watching this?” He asked surprised. Well, the program was stupid as hell and you were aware of it.

“I don’t want to but I can’t move to turn it off,” you admitted in a raspy, tired voice.

“Are you okay?” Buck furrowed his brows and approached the TV. He crouched down and turned it off.

“Thank you, it was starting to give me a migraine,” you admitted with a sigh.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He turned around to face you. 

“I’m sorry, I have those days,” you explained.

“What days, love?”

“Ugh…” You winced at one of the cramps. “Code red, Gale. Those days,” you specified.

“Oh,” he straightened himself and put his hands on his hips, getting visibly awkward. “What can I do for you? Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yes, it does. Just leave me here alone…” You mumbled. “And don’t get angry at me because I haven’t done anything around the house. Haven’t cooked anything either,” you lowered your voice, a little scared of his reaction.

You didn’t expect your husband to be angry about such a thing. He was not like most men. But he still could get a little frustrated and irritated. You wouldn’t blame him for that but it would still feel awful to disappoint him like that.

“Hey, you don’t feel good, it’s fine,” Buck only said. “I can make myself sandwiches,” he shrugged his arms. “Have you eaten anything?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Not really, no,” you answered. “I took a painkiller but it’s not helping. It made me hazy, though.”

Buck stood there in silence for a while, looking as if he was thinking intensely about something.

“I have an idea,” he said finally. “Are you allowed to take baths in your state?” He asked and you laughed at him.

“Jesus, Gale, can you imagine not being allowed to take a bath when you’re bleeding for a few days straight?” You asked and he blushed adorably. It was quite cute how he was feeling uncomfortable with the subject of periods and how little he did know about them… yet, he still tried to help.

“Let’s run you a bath then,” he nodded.

“Gale, please…” You sighed. “Baby, you’re tired after work. Just make yourself sandwiches and get some rest, too,” you tried to stop him.

“I’m fine,” he assured you. “Come,” he approached you and picked you up bridal style with the blanket still around you. You squeezed it in your fist so it wouldn’t fall down and let him carry you to the bathroom upstairs.

Buck sat you carefully on the closed toilet seat and turned the faucet on to fill the bathtub with the warm water. He opened one of the drawers of your bathroom cabinet and hummed to himself.

“What kind of bath do you want?” He asked, unsurely.

“What do you mean by that?” You leaned back, resting your head on the cold bathroom tiles.

“You have all sorts of things here… Rose, lavender, vanilla…” He read the words on the bottles of your bath oils.

“Lavender helps,” you told him and Buck nodded his head.

He took the bottle out and you watched him carefully tilting it above the bathtub… only to pour half of it inside the water. You gasped.

“What?” He turned his head around, startled by the sound leaving your mouth.

“You’re supposed to add a few drops…” You sighed, too tired to get annoyed. Also, getting annoyed when he was trying so hard to help you would be simply unfair.

“I’m sorry… Should I run another bath now?” He asked.

“Don’t be crazy. You’ve no idea how much money you’ve just poured down there,” you let out a tired chuckle.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Buck closed the lid and put the bottle back in the drawer. “But is it safe to bathe in it now?”

“Only one way to find out, is it?” You shrugged your arms.

Buck approached you to help you stand up but you shook your head.

“No, no,” you stood up by yourself on shaky legs. “I don’t… I don’t want you to see…” You explained shyly.

“It’s just some blood, I can handle it, baby,” he assured you but he was blushing again.

“Please, just leave me here and go downstairs to eat something,” you told him. “I’ll be fine.”

“Actually, I’ll go to the store,” he stated. “I’ll buy us some proper dinner and I’ll be back in twenty minutes. You won’t drown in the meantime, will you?”

“Don’t be daft, I’m not a baby,” you smiled at him and he nodded.

Buck left the bathroom and when you were left alone there, you allowed the blanket to fall down on the floor. Then you got rid of the rest of the clothes and went inside the bathtub, sighing out of relief at the feeling of the warm water.

You were sitting there for so long that the water turned cold, however you felt too comfortable to leave. It was Buck’s soft knocking upon the door that made you finally move.

“I’m back. Are you alive there?” He asked through the door.

“Yes, I’m about to leave now,” you answered.

“Alright. I have chicken,” he told you. “Do you want tea?”

“Yes, please.”

You heard his footsteps going downstairs as you watched the water go down the drain before you stood up, grabbed a towel and dried yourself before putting dark underwear, a black nightgown and a robe that you had in the bathroom cabinet. You put the dress and underwear you had been wearing earlier to the laundry bin and picked up the blanket to fold it and take it with you downstairs to put it back in the living room.

You felt so much better after your bath, you had to admit it. Your hair was wet but you didn’t bother with drying it. It was around six in the evening and you already looked like you were about to go to sleep but you knew that Buck wouldn’t mind that at all.

And indeed, when you walked inside the kitchen, he didn’t even ask about it nor furrowed his brows at your nighttime attire. There was a chicken with mashed potatoes and a salad on the table already, alongside the tea he had made for you.

“I bought more of that lavender oil so you don’t run out of it,” Buck pointed at the unpacked groceries on the kitchen counter. “And something sweet for you,” he added. “The lady at the store was nosy, she asked me why I was buying chicken for dinner and was my wife sick so I told her the truth and she told me women like sweets when they have… those days,” his cheeks turned pink as he moved the chair for you and you sat down with a smile.

“She was right,” you told him. 

“Oh, good, for a while I was scared she just wanted to swindle me to spend more money,” Buck chuckled and took a seat in front of you. “So, after all, she was helpful.”

“Yeah, I know what nosy lady you’re talking about,” you nodded at him. “She’s annoying but she’s also sweet. Hard to explain,” you giggled.

“And how do you feel now?”

“I feel much better, thank you,” you nodded and reached your hand out to caress his and give it a light squeeze before you both started to eat the chicken.

Buck was telling you about his day at work and you were listening with a slight smile. You would usually comment and ask questions or gasp at some things, demanding to know more gossip. But today you were just nodding your head and smiling, still listening but less attentively.

“I’m sorry, perhaps you’d rather eat in silence. You’ve mentioned getting a migraine before,” Buck shut his mouth suddenly.

“I would have told you if I wanted you to be quiet, baby. It’s fine,” you assured him. “And the migraine is gone now. The bath really helped me.”

“Well… I think I’ve already said everything anyway,” he laughed and stood up to get the empty plates from the table to put them in the sink. “I will wash them and you go upstairs and lay in bed. I’ll bring you the dessert when I’m done.”

“You’re absolutely the sweetest, you know that?” You asked him. 

“I’m only taking care of you, darling. Like husbands do. You take care of me, too. Every day,” he looked like he didn’t understand why you were so grateful and it was making him even more special.

And he didn’t even know.

You wondered if his heart was truly so pure that he had no idea how other men could treat their wives. Whenever someone would mention some dreadful story of this sort, Buck would always widen his eyes as if he found it hard to believe. Perhaps he was truly that innocent and oblivious. Or he just couldn’t imagine being so cruel. Either way, he was a gem.

“I just love you so much,” you whispered, getting emotional. Most likely from the hormones.

“I love you, too,” he answered, a bit surprised. “Go upstairs, baby. Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, I will manage,” you stood up and kissed his cheek before leaving the kitchen.

In fact, you’d love him to carry you. But you didn’t want to bother him too much. So you just went to the bedroom and then you sighed at the sight of the freshly put white sheets. You had changed them in the morning, stupidly forgetting about your period coming soon.

With a grunt, you started to take them off. Your moves were slow and when Buck joined you upstairs, you were almost done.

“What are you doing?” He widened his eyes and put the tray he had been holding in his hands down on the vanity table.

“I put them on this morning but I have to change them now. I don’t want to stain them with blood,” you explained.

“You should have waited for me, I’ll do that,” Buck approached you and took the sheets from your hands. “Give that to me.”

“Buck, you’re a sweetheart, but I’m not dying or sick. I can do that, really,” you tried to assure him. “It’s not like it’s my first time having those days,” you explained, carefully avoiding the word period around him because you could only imagine how uncomfortable it would make him feel.

“You can help,” he agreed. “Give me the sheets you want me to put on,” he pointed to the wardrobe with his chin and you rolled your eyes before opening it and handing him the dark navy blue sheets. He gave you back the white ones and you folded them before putting them back.

When the bed was made, you sat under the cover and rested on the pillow. Your husband placed the tray in front of you and you smiled at the sight of a cake and some ice cream.

“Is it alright?” Buck asked.

“Yes, yes, it is,” you nodded with a smile and started to eat.

“By the way, I’m totally getting you a dishwasher,” he sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed and caressed your wet hair.

“Are you crazy? They're expensive!” You protested.

“But it’s going to make your life easier,” Buck pinched your cheek playfully. “You can’t say no, by the way, I’ve already made my decision.”

You didn’t say anything then and just finished eating as he watched you with admiration in his eyes. You offered him a few bites and he agreed to take them but most of the dessert was yours to eat on your own. When you were finished, you laid down, ready to take a nap. Buck took the tray from the bed and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” he whispered softly.

“Well, then, my dreams better be of you,” you smiled at him lovingly, “if you want them to be sweet.”

Buck winked at you and went back downstairs to take the tray down. You were starting to fall asleep by the time he was back to lay down next to you and hold you close, making you feel loved and taken care of.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[randomyuu]

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[duchess-kyuupid]

So I had an idea, what if reader was the magicless student and didn't feel like going home because they knew they were dead in their old world?

So one day a friend asks, "What do you think you'd do if you got back home?"

And reader just replies nonchalantly with a straight face with, "Probably lie in a coffin six feet under."

The friend thinks they are joking but little do they know...

Could it be with Ace and whoever else you'd think best fit the scenario? Thanks! <3

Hello anon! Sorry this literally took forever (-ω-、) At first I had a hard time trying to figure out how to put it all together and who to do lmao I think I ended up doing pretty good, if I do say so myself (maybe a little bit overboard as it went on, though? Like the request looks like it's supposed to at least be a little bit funny but my brain says 'haha sad reader go brrr') Either way, I hope that you enjoy, darling <333

~ "I'm probably never going back." With Ace, Kalim, and Grim ~

[Angst to fluff, Platonic Grim, Gn! reader]

Ace

"So," Ace started, munching on his sandwich, "What d'ya go to the Headmaster for this time? You get stuck with another random job again?" he asks with a sinister innocent smile on his face as he eyes your own lunch.

"Actually, we were discussing the prospects of me going home," you stated nonchalantly, casually sliding your plate of food closer to yourself, knowing full well that Ace really only started this conversation to get you distracted so that he could get at your cherry pie (which the chefs had made specifically for you, as a thanks for helping keep the fireplaces warm over winter break).

Now, while you had certainly noticed that Ace was after your food (you were used to it already, after dealing with Grim after all of this time), you had failed to notice the way that Ace's smile fell off of his face for the faintest moment after he heard the words 'home' leaving your mouth, but he was quick to regain his notorious smile before you could see his disappointment. And in an act to tease you a bit (and to rid himself of the unknown feelings bubbling in the pit of his stomach), he brazenly chuckles and states without thinking,

"Ha, I bet that old man probably told you to give it up. Like, what would you even do if you got back home?" Without a second beat you tell him with a straight face,

"I'd probably just be six-feet under."

"Right?" Ace agrees with a hearty chuckle. And he sees that you still for a second, lowering your head and taking a deep breath for a moment. In that quick moment of you losing concentration, Ace swipes the last remaining bite of your cherry pie with a cheeky smirk.

"So that's why I'm probably never going back," you clear your throat and look at Ace with a sad smile, tears brimming your eyes. And suddenly, Ace feels really, really guilty. He was just trying to lighten the mood by joking with you...about going home...

Ugh, how could he have messed this up, worse? It's impossible, I tell you! Ace knows that you've just been suddenly thrust into a world that you know nothing about, forced to attend a school where you barely even meet the minimum for the curriculum, and, to make matters even better for you, you're basically forced into doing whatever that Headmaster of the school tells you to, simply because he was just kind enough to let you stay at the school since you hadn't even a penny to your name nor your nonexistent family in this world.

Not only that, but you're also the prefect of this new dorm without any magic at all, and you're supposed to keep an eye on this random cat that nearly ruined the Orientation ceremony. And! You've also got to handle both him and Deuce, also known as the chaos duo to everyone who knows them. And he just stole the last piece of your cherry pie, which was honestly something that you more than deserve after all the shit that you've gone through. We all know that you weren't crying because of him stealing your pie, but this fact really was just the cherry on top of his sundae of regret.

So yeah, just label him as Dumbass #1 in your book, if he isn't already.

And he's not sure why he was surprised to see those tears in your eyes, but he was, and he's ashamed at the fact that he's never noticed how you've felt before. So in a frantic motion to fix things, Ace stands up quickly, saying a quick excuse to you about accidentally leaving something in his last class or something, and excusing himself from the lunch table before you could even react.

~~

You honestly didn't know where he went after he left you at lunch, because he wasn't in any of his classes for the remainder of the day. It was only after classes, as you were walking back to Ramshackle with Grim, that you saw him next. He was standing in front of your front door with a nervous look on his face, but he was dressed quite nicely. Not quite formal attire, but it looked like he was expecting to go somewhere, at the very least. Once he saw you approaching, his face brightened for a moment, with a slight blush cropping up on his cheeks as you ask him what he's been doing all day.

"Well," he starts with a chuckle and his infamous smile, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "I got permission from the Headmaster for us to leave campus for a while, so why don't we go check out some stores at the village nearby? I thought that maybe I'd show you around, since you'd probably beg me to keep you from getting lost anyway... Oh, and don't worry about paying for anything, I have it allll covered." He says that last part with extra emphasis and a more confident smile than before, hoping that that would be the ticket to getting you to agree. Little did he know, you were going to agree even if he wasn't going to buy you anything. And little did you know that one of the biggest reasons why he's decided to do all of this can be explained through one simple sentence: 'I want you to start liking this world more than your own.'

In truth, he'd struck a deal with Azul again in exchange for enough cash to buy whatever you wanted from any store (he's got a lot of work cut out for him in the upcoming future), but shh, you didn't need to know that. It would be all worth it if it means that you can get a chance at starting a normal life here...

And perhaps, maybe one day you might want to start living your new life with him by your side.

Kalim

Oh, Kalim. This epitome of sunshine was sharing everything about his family, his childhood, and his homeland to you with so much enthusiasm that you felt yourself feeling the twang of homesickness starting to erupt in your heart. But of course, this always happens with Kalim, doesn't it? First, he hurt the one who he's always adored as a brother- Jamil, and now, he's hurting you too, all without realizing it. You could never blame him for it, though. His genuine happiness and warmth was something that you looked forward to every day, and most of the time just being around him felt like you were basking in the sun on a cold day.

But, sometimes the warmth that he radiates so fervently starts to feel like too much, as if you were being scorched alive under the unbearable heat of the sun.

"So," Kalim says, taking a moment to catch his breath, "I think that's all of my brothers and sisters, plus all of my extended family too! We're a big family, so I know it's a lot, haha! Say, what's your family like?" he innocently asks with bright, expectant eyes.

And you know that he doesn't mean to do this to you, but you can't deny that right now you felt like his beautiful red eyes were burning themselves into your soul like a branding iron. You don't want to make it sound like you blame him for your predicament or his enthusiasm about his family, so you give him the best smile you can muster and divert the subject to the best of your ability.

"Well, they're really not as important as yours is. Can you tell me more about how the Asim family started out? Your family must have a lot of really interesting history."

"Oh, sure!" Kalim nods happily to your request, forgetting his own question shortly after as he continues in his own rant about his gigantic family and some of the more interesting parts of its history.

At this point, Jamil really couldn't bear to listen to this anymore. He's been quietly watching and listening in on your conversation with Kalim from his seat in the corner of the room, where he was supposed to be 'studying'. Jamil sees that Kalim's doing the same thing to you as what happened to him, and decides to step into your conversation. 'Might as well go ahead and rip the band-aid off before it gets to the point of no return,' Jamil thinks.

"Hey," he begins, cutting Kalim off mid-sentence, "Do you have any sort of plans for when you get to go home? If you can go home?"

And Kalim looks at you with a surprised look on his face at Jamil's question for you because of course you'd want to stay here in Twisted Wonderland with him and everyone else! He'd never thought of the idea that you'd ever want to go back home to your original world, Kalim felt like it was just a given that you'd want to stay even if you had the choice to leave. But now that he thinks about it a little more, he doesn't understand where he even got that idea from to begin with. After all, as someone who cares for his family and his homeland a great deal, he can kindof understand how you might feel after being torn away from all of that without any way of returning.

"Haha, well," you chuckle heartlessly, "I'm probably never going back anyway. I think if I went back home now I'd just be six-feet under or something." Your attempt to lighten the mood with your 'joke' fails when you hear the sound of your own voice saying it. You would be lying to yourself if you tried to claim that, no, your voice wasn't shaky, and that yes, you were completely fine with never seeing your family ever again. Jamil makes a comment that he was going to grab something to drink from the kitchen, leaving you in a moment of silence with Kalim following your rather dark 'joke.'

"Well, what's the harm in trying anyway?" Kalim asks softly, "You never know unless you try! Plus, even if it doesn't work out, at least you can say that you've given it your all, right?"

"That's the FUCKING problem," you snap, "I've BEEN trying to go back home, and nothing's ever working! And there's no way in hell I'm just going to give up and go ~'Well at least I tried'~ when it's my goddamn LIFE on the line here!"

Oh no, you didn't mean to start yelling at Kalim like that... But after hearing his flippant "at least you've given you're all" comment, all of the pent-up emotions just felt like they were going to explode if they were kept inside any longer. You feel bad for suddenly yelling at him, but at the same time, it felt like the water gates have finally opened, and before you knew it, more kept spilling from your mouth.

"I had a normal life back in my world, you know! I had people who cared for me, I had plans for the future that I painstakingly paved the road for for my entire fucking life. Everything that I've done in my life up to this point, it's all become utterly useless now that I've come here," you wailed, tears escaping your eyes as you spoke without constraint, "Can you imagine how it feels to have everything stolen away from you, Kalim? All of the people that I've created my childhood memories with, they're all gone! My scholarships, my college applications, my work experience- nonexistent! Hell, if you want to get into the legalities of it, I technically have never gone to school in my life before attending NRC because I never existed in this world before then." You take a breath to help calm yourself down, but after still feeling the flames of rage bubbling in your lungs, you continue to vent out your feelings.

"Do you know how it feels, Kalim, to have no idea whether the people you love know if you're dead or alive? To have to think about how they would react to my 'death' when I'm still kicking and screaming inside another world?! To have to think about everything that you've been forced to leave behind all of a sudden?" You're basically screaming out your frustrations to the sky now, as you couldn't bear to stare at Kalim as you cried out your miseries, "To have to think about the life you could be leading right now if you weren't dragged to some random world with no knowledge about it's countries, it's history, or even it's most fundamental principles like magic?"

Kalim's staring at you intensely, taking every single word you speak into account. Even as you got to the point where you couldn't speak clearly anymore, when you pushed yourself to where all you could do was sob, snivel, and blubber out your words of woe, Kalim sat there listening to you the whole way through.

At some point during your crying, Kalim pulled you gently into his arms in a tight embrace as he let you continue to let your feelings out. He was going to wait until it was all out before he even tried to say anything (reason one being, because it would be rather rude to interrupt you, and two is because he's been rather notorious for crying when he sees other people cry and he didn't want to make the crying spotlight on him)

When you were finally done, Kalim patted your head soothingly and spoke quietly. His own voice was shaky too, and he was also on the verge of tears just from watching and listening to you.

"I never knew you felt like that, I'm sorry for not realizing it earlier," he says, and just the sound of him trying to keep in his tears breaks your heart to pieces.

Your pain is his pain, your tears are his tears, and your smile is his smile because, even if he doesn't realize it yet, he truly loves you dearly. Kalim knows he can be really, really dense most of the time, which is why he never noticed these pent-up frustrations of yours when they were so obvious to Jamil, but he hopes that you'll forgive him for making you feel even worse.

"It's not your fault, Kalim. I'm not angry at you or anything- I'm sorry for yelling like that," you inhale, "It's just-... It just hurts, you know? Thinking about all of the what-ifs and the could-be's... But the truth is, I've had more fun in the short time that I've been here than in my entire life back home. And most of that's because of you, actually."

"Really?" he asks, a spark of his normal cheer returning to his voice.

"Yes, really. I might not be able to use magic, but it's been something that I've loved learning about since coming here. You know, the very first time you took me on a ride with the magic carpet, and I got to see this whole new world from way high up in the sky, I knew that nothing from my home could beat that experience. I'm going to miss my home, but it's not so bad when I know that you're here."

Oh, look at you- you were the one who just had an emotional breakdown right in front of Kalim, and yet you're the one consoling him! Your sweet words struck through his heart like cupid's arrow, and he internally vows that he will always be someone who brings a smile to your face- that he will do everything that he can to make sure that you're happy.

"Then," he perks up, wiping his face from any stray tears that might have escaped from earlier, "Let's go on another carpet ride together, outside of campus!" He exclaims excitedly, all hints of previous sadness gone from his eyes and voice.

"There's so many places I want to show you, but I think we should look for spots that look like your home! This world is a pretty big place, so I'm sure there must be somewhere that looks similar to yours. Tell me everything about your homeland- If we can't find something like it, then we'll just have to make it ourselves!"

Grim

It was in the midst of winter break that you started to feel more lonely. All of your other friends were gone and spending the holidays with their families, while you were still here at the school with your only company being Grim and the Ramshackle ghosts, who would come and go as they pleased. Everything was just so,, quiet, without the chaos duo Deuce and Ace around. Of course, Grim was almost always up to his own little shenanigans too, but most of the time they were harmless and it was just him entertaining himself with catching mice and such.

The silence of the winter break and the bleakness of the white snow was staring to take a toll on you, and it wasn't helping the fact that you're still experiencing nightmares beyond what you see in the mirror at night (this is not a jab at you, I swear).

For reference, you just had a dream that woke you up in the middle of the night, sweating and gasping for air as you tried to recollect yourself. Of course, you couldn't fall back asleep after what you've just seen, and Grim was still sound asleep in his corner of the bed. Quietly, you move to get up to go get some fresh air outside- not forgetting to bring your jacket with you to the freezing cold weather out there.

And you spent a bit of time in the silence of the night, sitting on the stairs of the front porch of the Ramshackle dorm with a heavy jacket tied to your shoulders, just staring up into the sky. This isn't the first time that this has happened, so you know that looking at the stars would usually help you out in times like these.

'I can see the stars so clearly from here. Back home, the stars would be so dim that most nights you could hardly see them because of all of the lights around.'

'Huh, I wonder what kind of constellations this world has thought up of. That kinda looks almost like a horse, if you look at it sideways.'

'I wonder what kind of galaxy this world is in. The Milky Way was nice and all, but something different could be nice, too.'

Those would be the kind of thoughts that would help calm you down after your nightmares and you'd start feeling sleepy again. You'd go back inside, maybe drink a little bit of water, and then delve underneath the covers of your bed and go to back to sleep.

But this time, though, you could hardly focus on anything else except for the contents of your dream. No matter how intently you stared into the night sky, there was nothing else that you could think of other than, 'It was just so realistic.'

"Hey, hench-human! There you are! 'Was wonderin' where ya went so late at night. Come back in already, you let the fireplace in the room die out and now the whole room's gone cold again," you hear Grim calling out to you from the now open door of the Ramshackle dorm.

"Sorry Grim, I'll be back inside in just a bit, just gimmie a minute, alright?"

"What? You're just gonna sit outside in this cold?" Grim exclaims, "What are ya even doing out here anyway?" And you hear Grim's paws tapping on the old wooden flooring as he scampers his way to you.

"Couldn't sleep, so I went out for some fresh air, that's all."

"Oh yeah? Had another dream about the Great Seven? Or was it that Mickey dude in the mirror again?" He pushes your arms away from your legs and jumps into your lap without another thought. If he was going to wait for you to get up and relight the fireplace, he was at least going to wait somewhere that's nice and warm- your lap.

"Actually," you clear your throat, "not this time, no."

"Then what's up?" And he just said it so casually, like either he knew that something was bothering you and he wanted to make the conversation comfortable enough to talk about it- that or he's just completely unable to read a room (which was honestly the more likely option). Either way, it made you pause for a moment, to think about whether you wanted to answer his question honestly or make up some sort of lie about it.

"I'm thinking about whether I should just go ahead and tell Crowley to give up on looking for my way back home," you admit, deciding on telling him half-truths for now. But your comment caught him off guard, and he looks back at you with surprise. "Huh, why would ya do that?" he asks.

"Well, I mean I'd probably just be lying six feet under if I do manage to go back, so what's the point in having Crowley waste his time on this? Besides, he's been using it as an excuse to make me us do all of his dirty work for him, and I don't want to be indebted to him anymore than I already am."

"Well, I guess that does make sense, but still, haven't you been wantin' to go home this whole time? What's with you givin' up now?" he grumbles.

"Awe, I had no idea that you hated me this much," you joke, "To think, that even my closest friend even wants me gone from this world! Oh, woe is me!"

"Hey, you know it ain't like that, henchman!" Grim pushes you playfully, "I'll have you know that, unlike SOME people, I care about my minions. If ya wanna go home, then you should keep tryin' to find a way back, especially if there's someone else doin' all the work for you."

"That's sweet of you to say, but I'm probably never going back."

"What makes you so sure?" And you don't say anything to his question, not for a while. Grim notices your silence and concludes his statement, "Well, if that's what you want, then alright. It just means that you'll be here to see me become the greatest mage in the world!"

"Mhm," you nod sluggishly, and the conversation goes quiet from there. Now, the heavy silence of the winter night fell upon the both of you, the only sounds being the creaking of the old wooden planks of the Ramshackle dorm, the frostbitten wind blowing through the air, and the soft shuffling of you petting through Grim's fur as he sits idly in your lap. The silence didn't bother either of you much, as Grim was nearly falling back to sleep with the soft movements of your hands brushing him and the warmth from your lap keeping the cold at bay. But as time continued to pass, your anxious thoughts started clouding the deep recesses of your mind once again and you felt compelled to speak upon them.

"Grim, I know that you're a monster and everything, but do you know anything about reading a human's pulse?" you speak suddenly, and he flinches awake at your question, rubbing his eyes tiredly as you continue without letting him answer, "You can find your heart rate just by pressing on your wrist, or placing these fingers against your neck, like this." And you demonstrated both actions to him.

"Grim,, I," your voice chokes up, "I can't feel my pulse... Earlier I had another nightmare, and I saw myself dying. In my world... It was so realistic, I..." Tears start erupting from your eyes as you recall the vivid memory, and Grim stares at you with wide eyes as you continue, "When I woke up, I felt like I could still feel the pain. It was so excruciating, I felt like I was going to throw up, so I came out here."

Your body was shivering uncontrollably with how you were trying to keep your tears in as you spoke, and you pull Grim closer to you in a hug close to your chest, "Grim, please tell me. Do you hear anything? Anything at all? Even if you lie to me, please just tell me that you can hear my heartbeat."

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

"I can hear it," Grim states seriously (I mean, after seeing the state you're in, it would be more than a little rude if he wasn't serious), "And I'm not lyin' to ya. It's super cold out here, which is probably why ya can't feel it, but you do have a heartbeat. I promise you, you're alive, right here, with me." He wasn't expecting this, but he tries his best to comfort you, though really he has no idea about what to do or what to say. But as awkward as his words come out as, it still works to help you calm down after a while. He waits until your breathing starts to slow down and your tears have stopped spilling.

"Henchman, I'm startin' to feel hungry for a midnight snack," he states, "I know you're hungry too, so let's go sneak into the cafeteria and see what they've got!" And he leaps off of your lap and looks at you with his bright blue eyes, "We can warm up by its fireplace while we're there too."

As he starts dragging you towards the school, he turns to look at you and he says, "The way I see it, the way you still get hungry or thirsty is how we know that you're still alive. You wouldn't need to eat or sleep if you were dead, like the ghosts, now would'ya? You really need to stop overthinking things like this, givin' me a heart attack when you start cryin' outta nowhere like that..."

~~~~~~

I accidentally wrote a whole mini-story for them, no wonder this request took so long </33 I really hope that you enjoyed reading this, anon! While I did have trouble at the beginning, things started falling into place as I kept writing 👏👏

[ivelle-serenity]

Skateboard 7

Wind breaker

fem bodied reader | smut | action | pwp | jayjo/fml | vinny/fml | wooin/fml | joker/fml | hyuk/fml | owen/fml | enemies to lovers | angsty | the other woman (?) | reverse harem | fluff | SLOW BURN! | all characters featured are 18+

author's note: i need demitra's interaction with sabbath now and write smut. damn it. they're so hot--i just can't.

✧˖° — windbreaker men

✧˖° — mdni, smut, description of not safe for work content.

✧˖° — this is a story not one shot.

"Jay's out of it again," Dom sighed, watching Jay sitting alone on the bench. It was currently our P.E. class, and we were doing our stretches. Jay, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the world, sitting on the bench reading a book.

"He didn't eat lunch again. I'm really worried about him," Mia said, lowering her head.

"Damn it, I hate seeing him like this. Why doesn't Shelly even message our friend?" Dom said angrily, throwing the ball down in frustration.

I kept staring in Jay's direction. His friends were getting worried about him, but Jay didn't seem to care because of Shelly. I noticed my bag beside Jay; I had left it there so I could go straight home after P.E. without having to go back upstairs.

"I'm going to get some water," I told Mia and Dom. Mia nodded while Yuna tried to calm Dom down.

When I reached the bench, I grabbed my water bottle for a drink. I was surprised to find a sandwich in my bag that I hadn't eaten earlier. I took it out.

"Do you want?" I offered it to Jay. He paused and looked at the sandwich.

"I'm fine," he said.

"I made it myself. It's really good! Promise!" I said, sitting next to him. He glanced at the sandwich again before putting his book down.

"Fine, thanks," he said.

I smiled widely when he accepted it. I felt proud of myself for getting him to eat. As I watched him, I noticed Dom walking towards us.

"The tournament's tomorrow. I still can't believe we have to ride without Shelly," Dom said worriedly as he approached us.

"You guys trained for a reason. I know you can do it," Minu tried to reassure his friends.

"Why do we have to fall apart when we're so close to the end of the competition?" Dom sat down beside Jay, who was now eating the sandwich.

I just listened to their conversation, not wanting to intrude. I was only here to replace Shelly in the competition. I didn't want to assume they saw me as a friend. I knew my place. Besides, I had no intention of officially joining their crew. Wooin didn't want me getting close to the Hummingbirds, so joining was out of the question. I sighed.

"How about you, Demitra?" Mia's question caught me off guard. I forced a laugh.

"I'll just try my best tomorrow. I think you can win even without my help. You guys are amazing."

I could feel Jay's eyes on me. My actions yesterday were too risky. I can't let that happen again. I really need to control my feelings for Jay. It's embarrassing because he probably sees me as just a friend, while I see him in a different light. I also don't want Shelly to know I'm here. If she finds out, I'll probably transfer to another school.

"We still need your help to win the race," Jay said, stopping my thoughts.

"Of course," I said, scratching the back of my neck in embarrassment.

"We got you a wig," Yuna said, holding out a bag. A wig? For what? "So no one notices you're not Shelly."

I was stunned and had no choice but to nod. I couldn't believe I was going to pretend to be Shelly. If Noah were here, she'd probably laugh at me. She knew how much I hated being compared to her. But here I was, agreeing to her friends' plan.

"Got it," I said softly.

After saying that, they started discussing unfamiliar things related to the race. I overheard Sangho's name being mentioned, which made me even more silent. I noticed that it wasn't just Jay who was looking at me; even Yuna seemed to want me out of there, judging by her glances. Since I didn't want to intrude on their privacy, I moved away from the group. I approached some other classmates and grabbed a ball to play with.

Our teacher was absent. From what Dom said, they called him Mr. Nam. I hadn't met him yet, but based on how Jay and the others seemed to respect him, I figured he must be a great teacher.

My brows furrowed as a ball rolled towards the school's entrance, played by some other classmates. I quickly went to retrieve it. As I picked it up, I nearly dropped it when I saw a familiar guy.

"Vinny?" I exclaimed in surprise. He looked blank and pocketed something. He had a bike with him.

"You're studying here too?" he said with almost a tone of disgust. Perhaps he said that because he knew his former friends were studying here.

I nodded. "What brought you here?" I asked, looking down at the bike.

"Wooin wanted you to come to a race tomorrow to watch," he said, almost stopping my heart. "And he also wants you to know that you should be at the club every night at 8 p.m."

"W-What?" I couldn't process what he was saying.

"I can't go tomorrow," I said quickly. I didn't want them to know that I was one of the racers tomorrow! "And why should I go to the club at night?"

His gaze turned colder. "Have you forgotten the deal you made with Wooin?"

Damn it.

"You need to be there every night before the tournament. He needs you for the strategies we'll be planning for the race," he explained, looking irritated.

"O-Oh..." I nodded. "But isn't Sangho there?" I said nervously.

He fell silent. "Why are you so afraid of him?" he asked seriously.

I clenched my fists. "I told you, I got into a fight with some guys who seemed to work for him. And... those men didn't just want me dead. They tried to touch me." It felt pointless to lie. They would find out eventually.

"They what?" His face darkened. His eyes widened.

I looked away. "But I think they won't chase me here. But still... I don't want to see Sangho—"

"They tried to touch you? Fuck."

I smiled bitterly. "Vinny, do you think it's easy being a female rider in the underground? Not everyone we race against wants to compete fairly. Some of them want to..." I couldn't finish my sentence.

We both fell silent. Maybe he realized I didn't want to talk about it anymore. It was a nightmare. That's why I promised myself I'd never bike again.

"You stay close to Dom," he broke the silence. "He can protect you."

I furrowed my brows. "Why him? Don't you think Wooin can protect me?"

He sighed. "Not like that. Like you said, you don't want any connection with Sangho. Wooin has business with that man, so it's better if you stick with Dom for now," he explained, combing his hair.

"He's part of the Yakuza. He can protect you."

The real question is... Why would he protect me? I'm not even his friend! I'm just his classmate. I don't want to approach Dom just to be protected. I'm not that desperate!

"I think I can protect myself very well, Vinny. Thank you for your concern," I said with a smile. His gaze remained serious.

"I'll go talk to him, then."

"What!?" I exclaimed, trying to stop him from entering the school. "Wait! I thought you two weren't friends anymore?"

I blocked his way to stop him from entering. He was so tall that I was having a hard time. There were many eyes on us because of him. He looked like a gangster trying to enter the school.

I tried to block his way, but it was too late. Vinny had stopped and was glaring at something behind me.

"What's going on?" Jay's cold voice made me wince.

"Call Dom. I don't need you," Vinny snapped at Jay. I quickly turned to Jay and shook my head, trying to defuse the tension.

"You can go back. He's just asking me something," I lied, but Jay's gaze remained fixed on me, then shifted to Vinny in a silent challenge.

"I thought you weren't friends with him?" Jay's comment made Vinny pause and look at me with an annoyed expression. Maybe he was irritated because I had told Jay, or perhaps that was just his usual demeanor.

"Why do you even care, jerk?" Vinny retorted, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Hey, stop," I urged Vinny, my brows furrowed. "Can you please just go? You're making a scene." I whispered, glancing around and noticing the growing number of onlookers. The tension was palpable, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

"What the fuck? What's that bastard doing here?" Dom's voice startled me. He approached with a fierce look, positioning himself between Jay and Vinny. I felt a surge of anxiety, fearing they might start a fight. Both of them towered over me, their presence intimidating.

Vinny clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "You..." he couldn't finish his sentence, throwing sharp glances at Dom, who tilted his head mockingly.

"Vinny, just go," I said firmly, my voice steady despite the chaos. His gaze dropped to me, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face.

"I'm not here to fight, considering I've already beaten you," he sneered. Dom made a move towards him, but Jay held him back with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Vinny continued, "Just protect your new member, will you? You never know who might want to hurt this little one." His tone was mocking, but there was an undercurrent of threat that made my blood run cold.

Dom’s eyes narrowed, his body tensing as he took a step closer. “You think you’re tough? Coming here and making threats?”

Vinny smirked, clearly enjoying the reaction he was provoking. “I don’t need to think. I know.”

“Enough,” Jay said, his voice cutting through the rising tension. “Vinny, leave now.”

Vinny held Jay’s gaze for a long moment before he shrugged, as if bored by the whole confrontation. “Fine. But remember what I said, Dom. Watch your back. And hers.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving a heavy silence in his wake. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and looked at Jay and Dom, who were still tense and ready for a fight.

“are you okay?” Jay asked, with a serious look on his face.

I nodded, but my mind was racing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… let’s go back to class.”

What the hell was that? Is that his excuse to follow through with his plan to have Dom protect me? I hate him! He doesn't need to do that,.

[with-my-murder-flute]

Cristabel and the proverbial sandwich

(Spoilers for Harrow and Nona the Ninth)

I have not known inner peace since I saw someone say, "But come on, does anyone ACTUALLY buy John's story about how the nun died?"

Because honestly, I'd just kind of gone, "Super random, very weird interaction, boy there sure are cult mindworms at play here," and moved on to the next page.

But as soon as I saw that question asked, the amount I did not buy that story hit me like a load of bricks, to the point I'm kind of amazed that I ever did believe it.

Two people. A locked door. A nuclear standoff. A close-range head injury.

On one side, a full-fledged Catholic nun—well done, that’s the classic—who's best friends with a staunchly atheist world-class scientist and believes, if we're to believe John, that Jesus's problem is that he didn't stick to office hours.

On the other, a woman described as, "A total delight. Effervescent. Kind to animals and children. A master of the sword. Did not have the intellect you’d ordinarily find in a sandwich or an orange, and was a sickening twerp into the bargain."

Oh, and in the middle, there's also a necromancer who wants to bring back his friends... minus any little details about things he they might have done wrong. He "knows where memory lives in the brain", and they "won't have any of it." And "guys as careful as me don't make mistakes," but then again, all that means is that if he kills someone, he did it on purpose.

C— talks her way into a locked room with John, who's on the phone threatening some world leaders with a nuke, expresses care and concern for him, and then... decides he needs more data on the soul? And kills herself to provide that for him?

I'll be honest, I just don't believe that John was an ordinary guy, totally normal, could be any of us, and he just got put in a really stressful situation and made some bad choices but who HASN'T done things they aren't proud of??? I reject that point of view completely. Like, Elon Musk in any given interaction probably is really stressed out and unhappy and having trouble responding in a way that's at all well-considered or emotionally mature, but that doesn't mean that Musk isn't also, at baseline, a deeply stupid, petty, immature, grandiose, entitled, egocentric person. No matter what situation you put him in, he's going to keep on being those things.

I think that John's initial idea was to put the entire human population of Earth, minus some necessary staff, into some giant cryonic freezers, and give the Earth some amount of time to rest and recover from the effects of human-caused pollution. A plan about which I will confess some hesitation myself; being told "just lie down in this coffin, bro, you'll only be a little dead, I'll totally bring you back to life* in a couple centuries (*98% effective!) " does not fill me with an enthusiasm to hop on board.

And then his project got cut. And he decided, "Well, if they won't agree, I can just make them agree." After all, all that end game needs is 10 billion frozen corpses hanging out in those tin cans, and a small team of staff left to keep the place running. How it gets there is something he can afford to be flexible about. If people won't climb in on their own, he can put them there.

So when C— or the nun tell him to stop focusing on revenge, to bend all his energies to saving the world, I think he thinks: Well, I am. He's gonna wash the earth clean at the end of this! He just needs to be able to set the dominoes in motion. He just needs to engineer a situation that will justify taking his nuke out of the vault and making the pieces fall.

A situation that would be sabotaged, ruined, if anyone made a true deep sincere good-faith effort to talk him out of Plan Nuke and called the legitimacy of this crisis into any sort of question. He needs to prevent that from happening.

Actually. Also. He needs one more thing than that.

He needs an excuse to use the nuke, but also, he's finishing his homework at the very last minute. He still hasn't mastered the soul. He does need a few more test subjects.

Maybe he let her in and thought: Two birds with one stone, eh?

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 63: Alexander's Contentment

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, captivity, blood drinking

October 1925

"So… how long have you been a thrall, if you don't mind me asking?"

Roger swallowed a bite of sandwich and washed it down with water. He'd devoured most of it the moment the plate was put in front of him. "It must be close to twenty-five years by now."

"Twenty-five years!" Oliver could see that Roger was quite a bit older than him, but he hadn't been expecting that.

"Most of that time has been with Fitz," said Roger. "My first master was much less agreeable. The less said about him, the better."

"Does your master treat you well?" said Oliver sympathetically, also hoping to scope out his master's friend for himself.

"He's temperamental and dramatic. He doesn't lift a finger to do chores. He demands I wake him up in time for his shows, and then when I do, he whines about how he doesn't want to leave his bed." Roger sighed. "But he isn't cruel, and he never hurts me. He can often be good company, and when he's not in need of attention, he allows me to do as I will. My life is pleasant, on the whole, so as far as vampires go, I'm glad I have him as master and not another."

Oliver breathed a sigh of relief. "So he isn't dangerous?"

"All vampires are dangerous," Roger pointed out. "But no, my master has no intention of doing you harm. He's been looking forward to feeding from you, as he made abundantly clear."

"Yes, he certainly did."

"How about you? Is Alexander treating you well?"

"Yes, very much so, I would say," said Oliver. "He's very gentle, and I appreciate his library. He seems determined to ensure I want for nothing. The only problem is… well…"

Roger nodded. "My master told me that there was a run-in with your master's sire."

"Have you met him?"

"Thankfully, I have not. Fitz makes a point of keeping us out of his reach. That's why we visit so infrequently."

"Did you know my master's last thrall?"

"Henry. Yes." Roger downed the last of the water glass, and Oliver stood to refill it. "He was a decent sort, a former accountant. Quiet. Loved to play cards. It's… unfortunate, what happened to him."

"…Yes." Oliver's hand shook slightly as he put down the glass.

"Thank you," said Roger, taking a sip. "For what it's worth, both Alexander and Fitz seem much more interested in you than they did in Henry, so there's reason to hope things turn out differently."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It seems possible that they'll pull out the stops to try and protect you. I've never seen my master so excited to drink from another thrall." There was a hint of jealousy in Roger's voice and eyes.

"It's my blood, I suppose," Oliver said sheepishly.

"You must have high grade blood. I'm similarly 'blessed,'" said Roger. "God only knows how vampires decide that. It reminds me of how they review fancy wines, and how it's meant to taste like flowers or minerals or some nonsense."

"I can't say I've ever really had fancy wine, even before it was illegal."

"Right, alcohol is banned here. Ridiculous, if you ask me. Vampires don't care in the least about human laws, so --"

Oliver's attention was pulled away from the conversation by a beautiful low note in his head. It sounded like his master's singing, but it didn't seem to be coming from anywhere. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That song -- my master --" Without any words, it was beckoning him, a call too strong for him to ignore. It had never happened before, but he somehow knew just what he was meant to do.

Roger seemed unsurprised. "Your master's calling you, is he? You'd better go, then."

"Um, but you…"

"I remember the manor well enough. I'll make myself at home in a guest room. Don't worry about me."

"All right," said Oliver, grateful that Roger understood his sudden exit. He didn't stand a chance at resisting the song, and practically floated up the stairs as though he were in a dream. When he reached the door of his master's bedroom, he knocked. "Sir? Were you calling for me?"

"Come in, Oliver," said Alexander.

The room was dimly lit with a couple of gas lamps. Alexander and Fitz were both lounging casually on Alexander's bed. Alexander's shirt was unbuttoned, Fitz was wearing only an undershirt, and they were both in their shorts. A blush crept onto Oliver's face, but the vampires didn't seem embarrassed in the slightest. Vampiric aura was thick in the air, and Oliver's nerves were fighting unsuccessfully against the docile trance state that was quickly claiming him.

"Did you wish to drink from me, sirs?"

"There he is," said Fitz with a positively predatory grin. "What a picture perfect thrall."

"Oh, he is," said Alexander, and Oliver felt like glowing. "Why don't you come sit down, Oliver?"

Oliver politely sat down on the side of the bed, and Fitz slithered up next to him. "Nervous?" Fitz asked.

"Somewhat, sir."

Fitz rolled over like a cat, looking at Oliver upside-down. "There's no reason to be nervous. I do bite, but I promise that you'll like it."

"What Fitz is trying to say," said Alexander, "is that we'd very much like to share in your blood, if that's all right with you."

He couldn't even think of denying his master this. The vampires' desire was too strong and his conditioning too deep. "Yes, sirs. Please share me."

"Well, now that we're not all standing around on a freezing cold dock, I can pick up where I left off, can't I?" Fitz sat up, and brought his hand near Oliver's face without touching it, his fingers moving in a fluid, mesmerizing motion. "I don't know if your master explained this to you, but just as his power is in his voice, mine is in my hands."

Oliver was staring at his fingertips, easily recalling how irresistible that touch was, aching for it. "I see, sir."

Fitz's hand cupped his cheek, and the last of his thoughts dissolved into bliss. "I'm glad we have an understanding, then," he said. "You'll be good for me, won't you, Oliver?"

Oliver had no defenses whatsoever against this new trance, not with his master looking on in approval. His muscles relaxed, his tension wiped away. "I'll be good for you, sir," he said, already half-asleep.

"Exquisite," said Fitz encouragingly, as he ran his hands through Oliver's hair and traced a finger down his jaw and neck. "You're so very good. Not resisting me at all. Just happy and obedient."

"Obedience is pleasure, sir," Oliver muttered, leaning into Fitz's soft touch. so utterly hypnotized and eager.

Fitz laughed. "That must be one of Lily's little mantras."

"Lily did a fine job priming him, not that there was any doubt," said Alexander.

"Such a charming thing," Fitz murmured, cradling Oliver's chin, "the way he simply melts under the slightest enthrallment."

"Hmm, yes, reminds me of another thrall I used to have."

Fitz chuckled. "Surely I was never like this."

"Surely you were."

Oliver's brows furrowed as he struggled against trance to process the conversation. Fitz had been a thrall? Alexander's thrall?

"No, none of that," said Fitz, tapping Oliver on the nose. "No thinking for you."

"Yes, sir," he said automatically, allowing the worries to fade away once more as Fitz caressed him.

"I've been looking forward to watching you go to work on him," said Alexander.

"Well, I can't disappoint, then." Fitz turned back to Oliver. "Do you enjoy being Lex's thrall?"

At the moment, any concerns he might have about his situation were far, far away. "Yes, sir, I'm very happy to be Lex's thrall."

"Don't you love his song? The way it makes you feel?"

"Yes, sir," he said, nuzzling into Fitz's hand with no shame, dreaming of his master's voice. "I love it more than anything."

Oliver felt strong arms taking him around the waist, pulling him close to his master's chest. His master began to hum softly in his ear, an enchanting song of pleasure, while holding him tight. All the while, Fitz kept up his intoxicating touch. Oliver's mind was entirely gone, consumed by an enthralled bliss that was stronger than any he had known.

"Isn't that song so beautiful, so easy to listen to?" said Fitz in his other ear.

"Sir…" he slurred in his drowsy haze. "It's so good… sir…"

Fitz chuckled. "You're delightful, Oliver, do you know that?"

"You're being so good for us," Alexander added in his other ear.

"So good."

"Wanna… be good… sirs…" said Oliver.

Fitz ran his finger across the spot where Alexander normally fed, and Oliver shuddered from the intensity. "You'll keep being good for me when I drink, won't you?"

Oliver was certain he'd never needed anything so much as that. "Drink… please drink from me, sir…"

"How could I ever deny such an adorable request?" said Fitz. "Just relax and keep feeling good, okay? I promise you'll find this enjoyable."

Oliver nodded, and gasped as the sharp fangs pierced his neck. It felt different from Alexander's feeding, hungrier, more desperate but no less pleasurable.

An overwhelming swirl of emotions began to pool in his mind. Joy at seeing Alexander. Fear for the future. Loneliness. Desire. Shame. Obsession. And through it all, an undercurrent of need, a deep, dark need that could never be fully satiated.

"Oh, he is delicious. I've never had a blood so rich." Fitz had paused briefly in his meal. "Why don't you have a bit, Lex? You look hungry."

"I'll take a sip, and then you can have your fill."

Oliver was shifted slightly to be closer to his master, and then Alexander was drinking gently from the wound Fitz had made, filling Oliver with a sense of peace.

Before he knew it, Fitz was at his neck again, feeding like a starving man. He was taking so much blood, and Oliver was floaty and sleepy, his eyelids drifting shut and a sigh escaping his lips.

"Fitz --"

"I know, I know, I don't want to overdrink from a thrall like this. Honestly, I don't know how you can control yourself, Lex. I wouldn't trust myself to not drain him dry."

"…It's difficult sometimes," Lex admitted.

Oliver slumped backwards into his master's arms, drifting in and out of a light doze, content and fulfilled and safe.

"You must be hungry -- all of that buildup, and you barely had a drop to drink," said Fitz. "Why don't I call up Roger so you can have a snack?"

"I certainly wouldn't mind that," said Lex.

Oliver woke up slightly as he was transferred from Alexander to Fitz, but the whine of protest in his throat was silenced as Fitz guided his head to his lap and began to stroke his hair, scattering his thoughts and stuffing his head full of cotton. The door creaked open, and Oliver could see Roger emerge from the gloom.

"You wish to drink from me, sir?" he said.

Alexander began to sing, and Oliver could feel the command in the melody, a command beckoning the listener forward and into Alexander's hold. Roger walked forward through the room, his steps as heavy as a sleepwalker's, and as he drew closer, his wide, glassy eyes reflected the gas lamp.

Oliver couldn't resist the pull, either, and Fitz didn't stop him as he crawled across the bed to his master and curled up next to him. Alexander stroked Oliver's face with one hand while welcoming Roger in with the other, singing of bliss and obedience.

"You remember my song, don't you?" asked Alexander.

"Yes, sir, very clearly," said Roger.

"Then you know the deep sense of fulfillment you'll feel when I drink from you."

"Yes… sir…" The worry and stress on Roger's face was melting away, and he looked somehow younger.

"A wonderful thrall. I'm very glad that your master has a thrall like you. Thank you for taking good care of him."

"Of course, sir… it's my pleasure and my duty…"

"You're going to be so relaxed now, Roger. You deserve it after taking care of Fitz every day."

"I do, sir."

"What are you trying to imply?" said Fitz with a laugh.

"There you go, perfectly relaxed," said Alexander, ignoring Fitz. "You'll feel no pain, only pleasure."

Alexander opened his mouth wide, and his sharp fangs glistened in the flickering light. Oliver watched in dreamlike fascination as he bit into the soft flesh of Roger's neck. Roger's eyes went lidded, his expression slackening. A goofy, dazed smile spread across his face. Oliver was too content and relaxed to be jealous. He couldn't help but wonder if this was how he looked when his master fed.

Soon, Alexander licked the last of the blood from the small marks on Roger's neck. He sank back onto the pillows, cradling Oliver in one arm and Roger in the other. Oliver glanced up to see a sly expression on his master's face as he started to hum again, the same song he had used to draw in the two thralls.

"What are you doing, Lex?" said Fitz. "Are you trying to enthrall… me… too…" A moment later, Fitz was snuggling in next to Oliver, and Oliver was surprised to see how entranced he looked. "I'll allow it, just this once."

They were all in a large, comfortable kind of pile centered around Alexander, and Oliver could feel his master's contentment. He was so used to the undercurrent of loneliness that constantly radiated from the vampire that it almost seemed foreign. This is exactly how things are meant to be. Everything that's mine is in its rightful place.

"I take it that it was agreeable to drink from Roger, then?" said Fitz quietly.

"Very much so. He was as delectable as always, and a perfect gentleman," said Alexander. "And you certainly seemed to enjoy Oliver."

"You know, when you told me the frankly extravagant amount you bought him for, I admit that I was skeptical. I couldn't imagine even the finest thrall being worth that much," he said. "But now that I've seen and tasted him… I understand. I wouldn't have given him up for any price."

"I'm glad you understand." Alexander toyed with Oliver's hair. "Apart from his natural obedience and decadent blood, he's also very pleasant company, soft-spoken and well-read." Oliver nestled in closer, happy to absorb his master's praise.

"He reminds me of you, a bit," said Fitz, running his hand through Oliver's hair. "It must be the smell of books about him. I suspect that's part of why I find him so appealing."

"Is that so?" said Alexander. He leaned down and planted a kiss on Fitz's forehead.

"And now I can tell everyone I've fed from a triple-A, twenty thousand dollar thrall."

Alexander laughed. "Well, not everyone can find such an exceptional thrall at a bargain price like your Roger here."

"To be fair, he was less of a bargain when I had to pay Lily to fix his poor mind. Still worth every penny and then some."

"Speaking of Lily, she suggested that we all meet up at the Tiger's Eye…"

The vampires continued to chat in low tones, and the sound of his master's voice was slowly lulling Oliver asleep. He tried to keep himself awake, wanting to hear the conversation and enjoy basking in his master's company, but his eyelids were drooping and heavy. He heard a yawn and then a bit of a snore coming from Roger, and he yawned too. His mind began to doze, drifting far away, unable to focus on what the vampires were saying, only listening to the cadence of Alexander's voice.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

Next week, Alexander advances his plans.

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