#and i STILL CAN'T AFFORD TO MOVE OUT OF MY MOMS PLACE

[interesting-interludes]

hello!! <3 i recently read tcoc and i love it so much! i was just wondering if you had an upload schedule or is it just whenever you finish the chapters? in no way am i asking you to upload faster, just wondering!! :)

hi love!! thank you so much!! glad you're enjoying the story :) i just update as i finish each chapter, some being longer than others haha! trying to update more regularly but you know how life is sometimes lol. hope you enjoy future chapters!!

[deadtower]

me after spending the past 12 hours or so in a blinding panic of anxiety like. hm. things are really gonna be okay, huh

[dragonsoulage]

What a drag...going shopping with his pretty girl

feat. Shikamaru Nara

Poor Guy, for some occasion you need a new dress, even when his lazy ass wouldn't move, but seeing his girlfriend in a stunning dress could be worth it..

warnings: fluff

Wordcount: 1,4k

Hello world, so since I do my little stuff, here a short glimpse of what it would be like to go shopping with our genius Shikamaru 🤌

English is not my first language and I suck in proof reading lol 👁️👄👁️

Oh he already groaned in frustration when he heard you wanted to go shopping because you was invited to the wedding of your sister.

Shikamaru was already aware that he not only needed to attend the wedding but also going shopping with you. He sat there looking at you with tired dark eyes while he had a toothpick between his lips, watching how you paced around the room while talking to your mom.

With his oh so smart thoughts he tried to get ready like morally to go shopping with you. Not that he disliked it per se but alone the fact that it was a store full of clothes, hours would go byfor you to look for the "perfect" dress, and he just wanted to chill under the clouds.

But as your boyfriend he knew his duties, aware he needed to do it with you  after all why should he pass the option to "decide" what dress suits you the best. When you then hung up on the phone you looked at him, your gaze loving and excited because of the news.

"Not even a little glimpse of motivation huh." You mused out loud when your eyes locked with his. He took out the toothpick from his lips before he stretched his back.

"We both know I won't even stand a chance against the shopping thing or the whole wedding thing." Shikamaru yawned before you stepped closer to him. He sat on the edge of the bed and you placed yourself between his manspread legs. Laying your hands on top of his shoulders gazing down at him.

"You know when it's really thaaaat bad for you I can-" you wanted to tell him when je really would dislike the idea of going to a wedding ceremony or even shopping, he wouldn't have to, after all you was indeed really understanding. One of the things je loved about you. But the clever shinobi interupted you placing his hands on your waist, pulling you just a little closer and looking up into your pretty face, what showed him how concerned you was. You was could smell the faint scent of cigarettes. He wasn't uncomfortable to go, he was just an lazy ass and he knew that. So Shikamaru would do it, for your sake.

"Nah, even I am aware that this is one of those boyfriend duties I need to attend. And I love you even more than my holy sleep or watching clouds. I will get over it." Shika spoke maybe a little grumbly but that was his decision to accompany you in this. You chuckled then and laid a hand on his cheek marvleing at his skin and you found it endearing how knee he just an lazy ass. A handsome and smart lazy ass to be honest.

"Boyfriend duties hm? But fine I won't complain so get ready, baby. We go shopping this weekend. After all I need a new dress." You Said with that little wicked smile and your sarcastic tone. Why you was just an evil but so pretty temptress? Why does he sacraficed his sleep and lazy afternoons just for you? A mircale he probably would never solve.

And the minute you two stepped into a store he straight wanted to go to the dress section, although you seemed to have other plans, you wanted to browse a little through the store, not just to look at what you need but to see what you might want.

"Babe, you look at this clothes, eyeing saying 'this is cute' just to not even take it to the changing room. So where is the point in that?" Shikamaru asked with that irritaed voice, watching you browse through the section. A small smile tugged at your lips before you turned your head around.

"Not everything has to be logical right? I just want to see what I probably would like but mostly can't afford or don't really need. But I still want to look." You tried to explain that, although it was just typical behaviour for you. He shurgged his shoulders continued to walk behind you.

After you was done and took a few dresses to the changing room, Shikamaru sat down on this armchair in front of it, like the typical boyfriend should do. Just waiting for you to present him the dress you tried on. After all it should be fitting for a wedding.

You took some minutes as you stepped out of the cabin. This dress was indeed really good but you kinda looked not really convinced. His eyes ranked you up and down before they settled on your unsatisfyed face. "Whats wrong, babe?" He asked then, before he would give his opinion. The shinobi was a smart man, not saying something wrong before he would clearly knew what was disturbing you.

"Don't know kinda looks...cheap on me like with those rhinestones...I thought it would be cute but it isn't at all." You sighted and then he cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows pulled together before he rested his chin on his oalm. Yeah he wasn't the one for shopping but he would give you feedback when you really wanted it.

"Well cheap is the wrong word, it's not cheap. It just not bringing out the best. You have better dresses at home." His voice collective as he eyed you. Even when this dress wasn't ideal you still was a sight to behold.

After some more dresses were he always looked up and said something to it. Shikamaru sat there looking down to his fingers that fidget with the hem of his vest. Before you stepped out again. And this time it was the perfect dress. Black and long, flattering your figure and curves. Your waist snatched with a slit in the right thigh. Gorgeous. It was just absolutly gorgeous. When he looked at you he runned a hand through his hair, cleared his throat. Just observing you before he made a move with his finger, what means that you should turn around for him.

Even your backside, he indeed liked it really much in general was breathtaking. The usually so composed and lazy shinobi gluped hard, so his adam apple bobbed in his throat.

"What you say? It's a little bold maybe, usually I don't wear this but-" you wanted to start your explanation but before this could get iut of hand he stopped you. Besides the fact that this was indeed stunning on you this was the opportunity to go out of this shop, you found the dress you would need.

"Take it. You Look good, actually more than good. Flattering even." He replied, still his eyes roamed over you. Such a pretty girlfirend, the young man thought to himself.

After you paid for the dress you and Shikamaru walked out. Indeed it had been a while but it was not so long, as what he thought it would be. A small smile tugged at his lips, a smirk perhaps, a smart smirk. As soon as you two were outside again he lit on a cigarette took a drag before looking at you. "You know probably this wedding we need to attend won't be too bad, then I can oggle you the entire time." Hlhe Snickers at his own words. Before you have him, quiet a playful nudge. "Oggle me huh? I will oggle you too, after all we still need to get something you can wear too, Shika." You spoke and he could swear for a moment he saw a devilish grin. But then the realization kicked in he took the cigarette with two fingers out of his mouth.

"What do you mean with for me?" Poor hoy thinking shopping was over, you still needed fitting shoes and besides that he would need a suit. And Shika probably would look so good in it.

"Like how I said it, clever boy. We need a suit or something like that for you. Oh don't give me that look." You teased, patted his cheek.

"For someone who always knows every move I could make and has like battle strategy plans...you should have known that we are not done yet." You said to him with a small giggle. Then you leaned forward placed a cheeky kiss on his lips before you walked further.

"You will be the death of me." Shikamaru meant before he literally didn't have a choice and continued the shopping spree

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Polyamorous: Inexperience pt.1

*Bonus*

Stucky x fem!reader \ Steve Roger x fem!reader x Bucky Barnes

Warning: Smut, fluff

Polyamorous Material List

(Y/n) didn't bother knocking on the door, going straight for the hidden key and unlocking it. Already familiar with the apartment, she tosses her jacket on the back of the armchair and going into the kitchen. " I'm so sorry I'm-oh" (Y/n) quickly turned around and covered her eyes. " I'm sorry, so sorry".

"Okay," Bucky said as he helped Steve off the kitchen counter and they adjusted themselves, fix themselves. But still with flush faces, swollen lips, and ruffled clothes it was very clear what was happening. That and Steve didn't adjust himself as well as Bucky.

"I'm sorry I'm late my father kept me at the store."

" It's alright, dinner is still warm." Bucky said as he pulled out a chair for her. Steve took his seat quickly trying his best to hide his 'situation'. " Beef Stew and biscuits."

"Bread is fresh I got it from the bakery this morning." Steve said doing his best not to make eye contact. Bucky went to dish out the bowls.

(Y/n) reached across the small table taking his hand in hers. He looked up at her. "Thank you, it smells wonderful. Thank you for all of this." Steve flushed not knowing how to take the praise.

"How you're mom doing?"

"She's well, doing much better . They've recently assigned her to the tuberculosis ward. The pay is higher but the hours are longer too." The new risk was unsaid.

Steve's mother, Ms. Sarah, was a nurse and had been jumping between wards for as long as one could remember. She always went where help was most needed. While everyone thought her very admirable it was also very scary. They feard that one day she'd pick something up from one of her patients and not be able to shake it or worse give it to Steve who had a very weak health.

"She'll be working late tonight. I've already set aside some dinner for her," Bucky said as he placed the bowls on the table and returned to the kitchen.

" My father thinks I'm having a sleep over with Rebecca. Hope your sister doesn't mind being my excuse, Bucky."

"She loves you and will tell any lie you need." he said as he placed three wine glasses on the table. The two looked at him confused as he produced a bottle of wine "Pinot Noir, franch "

"where did you get that? you can't afford that."

"Well forunately for us darling this fell off the back of a truck"

"You stole" Steve moved to scold him.

"No, it literally fell off the back of a truck. I wasn't going to waste it." Bucky defened himself as he popped the cork" Don't we deserve some luxury. Something fancy for once." he pours a glass " Plus, when will any of us ever be able to afford a bottle of wine like this. We can barely afford the cheap stuff. Please, enjoy it now."

He passed the glass to Steve. He sighed and took it while glaring he brings the glass to his lips and has a sip. " Taste expensive."

(Y/n) giggled, Bucky fills her glass. He finally sits and all three of them raise their glasses. " A toast?"

"yes, A toast to us and to now. To always being together." Steve said

"We three may never part" (Y/n) said

" Damn right" Bucky cheered.

-

After dinner, the three moved themselves to the front room. Bucky and (Y/n) found themselves lost in their book, him on the floor and she on the couch, with Steve sketching them while a radio played softly in the background. He is on the couch with (Y/n).

(Y/n) was so engrossed in her book that she fell to notice when Steve abandoned his sketch and moved to read over her shoulder. Bucky watched in amusement for a few minutes as the two cuddled up to each other without even realizing it.

They curled up to each other, becoming closer and closer with each turn of a page. He also noticed how flushed each of them were becoming. Interesting.

"Whatcha reading?" She snapped the book shut, and Bucky couldn't help but laugh at how stunned they both looked. They looked like a pair of kids who got caught doing something they definitely shouldn't have been doing. "Okay, now you have to show me." He stood up and approached them, holding his hand out for the book. (Y/n) held the book close to her chest.

"It's just a book."

"An interesting book."

"What makes you think that?"

"How you cling to the cover, your flushed face, Steve's bulge." Steve quickly moves to cover his 'situation.'Bucky grinned as (Y/n) sighed and passed him the book. She moved to hide her face in a pillow as Bucky flipped through the book. " Let's see what's got you two so red."

"Bucky," Steve pleaded

" 'I should …really...get back to work.' Levi said in between her kisses but made no attempt to stop her or move her off of his lap. OH . Untying his tie she tosses it on the other end of the couch and began to unbutton his shirt as her lips moved to his neck hoping to mark her territory."

"Okay, that's enough." (Y/n) stood up and tried to take the book from him, but he held it above her head.

" he groaned as she choked on his - " the book was ripped from his hand and tossed across the room before he could even read ahead. He was shocked as he looked at her "What the fuck?"

"Sorry, I just -sorry."

"It's okay, I was just teasing. I'm sorry."

"I overreacted."

"You think." That earned Steve a pillow to the face. Bucky sat on the couch beside her. "where did you get that book anyway?" He asked

"Discount basket."

It took a moment, but the three of them began to laugh. They laugh hysterically for several minutes. Only stopping when they were finally out of breath.

"Getting dirty at a discount"

"Shush, Buck"

"Why'd you throw it?" he asked

"Wasn't a good read," she said, shrugging.

"Really, you seemed quite interested in it. Both of you."

" Mom won't be back until tomorrow morning," Steve suddenly said, gaining the attention of the two—one in confusion, the other in shock and joy. " we have the place to ourselves."

He took note of her confusion, and he began to stutter, " We-we could do it. Since we're al-lone."

Still confused.

"Sex. Steve is saying he's ready for sex."

"Oh," her voice reached a new pitch.

"We don't have to. Not really we-"

"Okay, I think I'm ready too."

They both turned to Bucky.

-

After talking some more in the front room, the three moved into the bedroom. Bucky took Steve into the bathroom to help him get ready, leaving (y/n) alone. (Y/n) had removed her dress and stockings and was now having an internal debate about whether she should take off her slip as well leaving her in her underwear.

She quickly lost her decision as the door opened, and the two stepped in, Bucky in his pants and tank top and Steve with a towel around his waist.

"Hi," she said

"hi," Steve returned.

Bucky sat at the desk, and Steve and (y/n) stood in front of him, waiting for instructions. Inexperienced students waiting for their experienced teacher.

" I want you two to be comfortable and enjoy this. You should experience each other first."

"You just want to watch us," Steve scoffed, crossing his arms

"Yeah, you're a perv." (Y/n) agreed.

"Sure am. Now put on a show for this perv."

And confidence is gone. The two just stood there for a moment, fidgeting. It was Steve who got the courage to make the first move, asking to kiss. Bucky watched as the two kissed, starting off as gentle and sweet before progressing into a more heated kiss. He took note of their hands (Y/n)'s hands, pulled at her slip, and hovered over Steve's chest. His hand gripped his towel. Both seemed eager yet afraid to touch.

"You can use your hands." He encouraged. (Y/n) was the first one to move, putting her hands on his shoulders. She pulled him closer before suddenly pushing him away. Steve had quickly thought he had did something wrong and stepped back further ready to apologize before he realized she was just removing her slip.

Quickly stepping out of it, she reaches Steve again and-

"What is that?" Bucky asked, interrupting and reminding them they weren't alone. They stepped back from each other. " What are you wearing? What is that?"

"My girdle?"

"When did you start wearing a girdle? I've never noticed."

" I've... I gained some weight in the back, and I've been having trouble...This slims me out." she kind of wished she kept her slip on now not liking where the attention was going.

"You don't need to slim out," Steve said. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you." She decided to keep the comments about how this beauty fit her clothes a bit too tight to herself. Now was not the time for that. Plus they couldn't help anyways.

" How about we take it off," Bucky said, motioning her over. As she stepped forward, he tugged on her girdle and was surprised to find how tight it was. Giving it a few more big tugs it finally came off. " Much better".

She gasped as he kissed her stomach, fueling the heat that was growing in her stomach.

"you should move to the bed."

"Okay." She moved to the bed, pulling Steve with her. She connected their lips again with far more eagerness than before, her hands feeling aimlessly against his flushed skin, gripping and pulling at anything she could get her hands on. Steve left himself to her mercy, letting her take whatever she wanted, simply breathing her in, accepting everything she gave, feeling the heat between their bodies.

"Take off the rest," Bucky called attention to himself. " If you want to actually do it, you need to take off the rest."

No longer shy, the two eagerly shed the last of their clothes.

In the year since their physical relationship began, the throuple had had several intimate moments that involved heavy petting, hands, and fingers and clothes. They had never removed each other's clothes. Some form of fabric was always between them.

Until now.

(y/n) stood shyly, chest red, nipples hard, and a wetness between her thighs that would have had her embarrassed in any other situation. But right now, she was busy eyeing Steve.

Steve stood more like a soldier, chin up, chest out, and head forward. Standing at attention, much like his cock. Which stood tall and wrapped. His stance was more so helpful with his heart rate and breathing. The moment (Y/n) removed her clothes, he lost his breath and feared he'd have an asthma attack before they could even start and ruin everything.

Bucky saw this, the way Steve was breathing through his nose and clenching his hands at his side, clear signs of fighting an oncome asthma attack. He decided to step in a bit more.

"Alright, Stevie, lay down." He was quick to follow instructions. Laying across the bed. Bucky took (Y/n)'s hand and led her to the bed. Helping her up and to straddle Steve sitting on his thighs. He sits next to them.

"Now listen, doll, I'm about to teach you something very important," he said to (y/n) as he kissed her nose. He then pulls a square package out of his pocket. She reaches for it, but he pulls it away. " What is is?"

"A condom?"

"Yes, and I'm going to teach you how to put it on Stevie here, okay?" she nods. " Mind being our test dummy punk." He leaned down to kiss him.

Opening the package, he hands it to (Y/N), and they handle it together. Him placing his hands over hers.

Steve gasped as they touched him, slowly stroking him. " Make sure he's tall and stiff for us." He moaned as they swiped his tip, which was leaking pre-cum. Bucky watched as (Y/n) sighed slightly, licking her lips. Something to explore at another time.

"And now, we're going to pinch the tip and roll it down." Steve closed his eyes tossed his head back and held his breath. They rolled it down all the way to the base and gave it a squeeze.

"Ta-da, you do so well," Bucky said as he leaned down, kissing Steve's neck. "Almost there."

He kisses (Y/n) neck. His fingers went down, and she gasped as she felt him touching her lips. She was more than wet enough.

"Are we ready?"

(Y/n) and Steve nodded nervously. He let go and stepped back, sitting at the desk again. They looked at him, confused.

"This is for the two of you. I'm just watching." Bucky said," Or I could leave and give you some privacy if you'd like?"

"NO" they both screamed.

"Please, no," Steve said, his breath starting to pick up as he sat up

"Please don't go. What if we do something wrong?" Syn said

" I won't go," Bucky said. " And do what feels natural. Follow your instincts and ask if need be. You'll be alright."

They two looked at him nervously, and he just nodded. They both turned back toward each other.

"Hi," they whispered to each other.

(Y/n) took a deep breath before lifting her hips. Steve gasped as she took him in her hands. She held her breath as she started to slowly sink onto him. Steve gasped as the tip slipped in the warmth, wetness, and tightness. (Y/n) whimpered as he slipped further in.

"STOP" Steve shouted breathlessly as he reached up, gripping her hips. " Fuck, please stop. I need to breathe."

"oh, oh no. Are you having an asthma attack? I can get off."

"No." Steve stopped her from getting up, gripping her hips tighter." I just need a moment to breathe. To catch my breath."

"Steve," Bucky spoke up. " You can stop here."

"No, I don't want to. I just need a moment, please."

"Okay, okay," (Y/n) leaned down, kissing his cheek. "Take your time."

Fortunately, he only needed a few minutes before he thought himself read (her thighs were starting to burn). She sunk the rest of the way down, taking all of him. Steve whimpered and dug his nails into her hip.

"Can I move?" (y/n) asked

"God, yes, please, yes." closing his eyes and tossing his head back.

She did as told. Slowly, she started going up and down, bouncing on him and moaning softly. She leaned forward, placing her hands on either side of his head. She continued to bounce. The sound of moans and skin slapping filled the room.

The site, the sound, Bucky couldn't help himself as he slipped his hand into his pants, finding his already leaking cock. He bit back a moan as he began to stroke himself as he watched (Y/n) start to bounce faster.

" I -I want a kiss," (Y/n) asked, still bouncing on Steve." Please, can I have a kiss, Stevie?"

He opened his eyes and-

"NGH ahhh"

He came.

The site of her leaning over, face and chest flushed, breast so close, and then further now where they were still connected. Yeah, he came in an instant. (Y/n) stopped.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm so sorry. I don't- I didn't-"

"That was a pretty face," she suddenly said, and it was. It made that feeling in her stomach tighter and warmer. She wished it lasted longer, that she had taken a picture of it, and that he'd done it again.

"Shit" They both looked up to see Bucky slumped down in his seat with a hand down his pants and a large wet spot formed on his pants.

(Y/n) started to sit up and remove Steve.

"Doll, did you finish?" Bucky asked.

"Um, no. But that's okay. A friend told me girls can't always finish like boys." (Y/n) just shrugged it off.

"No." Bucky removed his hand from his pants and approached the bed. He pushed her back down on Steve's cock, making his whimper" Stevie, this right here" He took his hand and put it right on her clit. "Rub it in circles."

(Y/n) yelp as he touched it and moaned as he began to rub it in circles. That warm and tight feeling in her stomach started to return. Steve whimpered as he felt her tightness around his already sensitive cock. He began to rub faster as he felt the need to come again. With the tightness surrounding his cock and Bucky whispering in her ear to make her come, make her come on his cock, treat her good. Be Good.

He was coming again, and she was coming this time as well. She moaned as she collapsed on his chest, arching her back nails digging into his chest.

-

"How was it?" Bucky asked as he watched (Y/n) dap the small cuts on Steve's chest. After being spent, Steve quickly gave in to exhaustion, leaving Bucky and (Y/n) to clean him up.

"It wasn't what I expected," (Y/n) said as she helped Bucky lift Steve's hips, putting some boxers on.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good. It was really good."

[mxstellatayte]

fuck me up, florida.

warnings: angst for the majority of it, sex at the end though, legal use of alcohol (reader and logan are both 23,) mentions of gunshot wounds, minor character death, based on a taylor swift song, childhood (middle/high school) friends to lovers, idiots in love, "you came" "you called," reader is half mexican (mom's side), slightly inaccurate bc i know carola wasn't at the miami gp but just go with it for the plot, reader's last name is rodriguez,

author's note: y'all i apologize if any of the spanish grammar is a little weird. my spanish is rusty, pls don't hate me for it

logan sargeant x female reader

i need to forget so

tuesday, april 30th.

you scan your ticket, the screen displaying your name and seat number. 12A. at least it'll be easy to sleep, you think.

after shoving your suitcase above your seat, you shuffle your way to the window and buckle yourself in.

are you really doing this? flying a couple thousand miles to visit your childhood best friend who, up until recently, had you convinced that his newfound fame that he'd gathered by announcing his enrollment in the williams driver's academy made him too good for you.

the only thing that made you think otherwise was the instagram dm he'd sent you five weeks prior, asking if you'd be able to make it to the miami grand prix. instead of a simple yes or no, you responded with the heaviest three words you've ever seen in order.

can we call?

logan picked up on the second ring.

"hey."

"hey."

"how's texas?"

you smile. "hot. sunny. flat. beachless."

"so... it's good?" you hate that you can still picture his facial expressions even after not seeing him for years except for on tv.

"'s okay, but it's not home, y'know?"

"definitely. it doesn't matter how much i decorate my place in england, it's never florida."

"nothing besides florida is ever florida," you sigh, looking out the window of your apartment. "how's the season been?" you don't exactly know why you're asking. you know exactly how his season's gone. you keep every single detail of every single race weekend meticulously catalogued in a journal that you take everywhere with you. no matter what, you've stayed up late or woken up early to watch every race, as if your hopeful energy would make its way across the world to him in time.

"honestly? it's been pretty shit. the car handles really badly and wasn't really even ready for the first few hours of testing in bahrain. i can't get it to perform and maybe that's just because i haven't linked with the car yet, but it still really sucks."

you sigh, hoping logan can't tell how disappointed you are with his team and engineers. "you need a better team, lo."

"i know." there's silence between you for a few moments, and every second that passes makes it grow heavier on your chest. "will you come to miami?"

there it is. the reason you called him.

"i don't know, lo. don't get me wrong, i'd love to, but it's really short notice and i don't know if i could afford the trip. i might be able to make it to austin, but i'll need the time to save the money for the trip."

"i'll fly you out," logan immediately says, his tone almost desperate. longing. "i'll pay for your flight, your hotel, everything. please?"

that last word hit you like a punch in the gut. you only had one more reason to not go and you weren't about to tell him that reason. it was a shitty excuse anyways.

you're not about to tell him that the reason you moved to texas was to give him the space he needed to be able to succeed in his career and for you to succeed in yours.

take me to florida

you're jolted awake by the force of the plane landing, if you can call the awkward limbo you were stuck in sleep. immediately, your stomach twists with anxiety. logan had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you refused.

"i'll just take an uber," you'd said. "i'm gonna want to relax a bit after the flight, y'know?"

his only trade-off? you met him for dinner. simple enough, right?

in theory.

now, standing in front of the full-length mirror in your hotel room, you debate between a floral sundress and a pair of denim shorts, a tank top, and a white button-up t-shirt with a colorful inkblot pattern.

you decide on the sundress.

fifteen minutes later, you're pushing earrings through your piercings, silver abstract shapes you'd bought on a trip to europe with your mother. you have to leave, but the situation you're in sucks. your hair won't sit right on your head, either being too frizzy from the humidity or losing any and all volume, and your makeup just doesn't seem like it'll last in the miami heat.

fuck it.

who are you dressing for, anyways?

logan's seen you at your absolute worst. he was the only one you let yourself cry in front of after your father died. he was the one that held you for what seemed like hours while you sobbed into his chest and he told you that none of it was your fault- that you never could have known that, when you hugged him before he left for the police station, told him you loved him, and slipped a note into his lunch box, the next time you would see him, he would be laying in a casket. he was the only one that could make you smile in the weeks following his funeral, dropping his entire schedule if you simply sent him a text that said "can you come over?"

the restaurant logan found isn't too far from your hotel, so you ultimately decide to walk. your walk is over before you're able to process that it even started and you're taking out your earbuds and putting them in your bag, taking out your phone instead to text logan.

i'm here.

i've got some regrets

were you always this breathtakingly beautiful?

logan's phone buzzes in his front pocket, but he knows it's you texting him. he doesn't even bother taking it out of his pocket before standing up from his seat at the bar and walking over to you, and when you see him, your smile almost makes his heart melt.

"hey," he says, and he hopes his voice doesn't waver from how nervous he is.

"hey. i missed you," you respond, dodging the hand he holds out and going in for a hug. "i've known you since middle school, logan, i'm not shaking your hand."

your arms around him and your body pressed against his almost makes logan short circuit. thankfully, he's able to regain control of his brain and hug you back, hopefully before you realize he isn't hugging you back.

when you pull back, the hug seeming way too brief for logan's preference, you're looking up and smiling with a sparkle in your eyes that makes him regret not making enough time for you. "thanks for bringing me out here."

"thanks for coming. do you want a drink?"

"sure. do you have a table yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"in that case, lead the way." you gesture towards the restaurant, and logan shows you to a booth in the corner. soon enough, a waiter comes over to you and sets down two glasses of water and two menus.

"welcome in, y'all. do we need a bit of time to look at the menu or do we know what we want to get started?" his southern drawl is thick, and it reminds you of texas. but you're in florida now.

"i think we'll look at the menu for a minute, thanks," logan says, and the waiter nods and walks away. as you open the menu and begin looking, logan points out something you might like and you do the same for him. conversation begins to flow freely between you, and it reminds you of the times in high school when you would go out with friends.

eventually, you decide on a plate of nachos and logan gets a plate of wings. as you wait for your food, you catch up on everything: your move to texas, logan's racing career, your work volunteering with the austin philharmonic, his homesickness from living in england, and everything in between. you crack stupid jokes, share bites of food, and steal sips of each other's drinks.

it's like old times.

i'll bury them in florida

on wednesday, you and logan drive up to visit your father's headstone. it's difficult. it's only the third time you've visited him since he was buried three years ago. the first time you visited him was a year after he died. even a year later, you still carried so much anger and hatred towards the doctors and nurses that were operating on him, trying desperately to save his life after two bullets hit him- one in his leg, one in his torso.

he died on the table.

the second time was just a few months after, and you were still wearing your cap, gown, and stole from your graduation ceremony. by then, you had been able to forgive the doctors and had graduated in the top 10% of your class. four years of hell had finally rewarded you with a degree in instrumental performance and an internship at the south florida symphony orchestra.

now, the third time, you have a picnic blanket and lunch packed into the backseat of logan's car, the windows are rolled down, and your favorite playlist is shuffled on the aux. it's a beautiful day, too; it isn't too hot (even with the humidity,) there's a gentle breeze in the air, and clouds occasionally cover the sun. when logan pulls into the parking lot of the cemetery and you sling your tote bag full of food over your shoulder, your hands start shaking.

of course, logan notices.

his hand slides into your own, and you look up at him. his eyes meet yours and you smile. "thank you for coming with me," you say.

"of course. i didn't want you to have to do this alone."

you look back at the gate into the cemetery, the black bars menacingly sleek and very, very terrifying. you chew your lower lip in anxiety. "i don't know if i can do it, logan."

"i'm here with you. i know you. you're strong. you aren't the kind of person to let a gate scare you." you laugh lightly, looking down at the ground. the gravel of the parking lot, your scuffed, beat-up high top purple converse, and logan's nike dunks make up what you have to describe as a perfect picture. your phone is in your free hand before you know it, and you're lining up the shot. "still into photography, huh?"

"yep. i have some cameras in my suitcase at the hotel." when you pocket your phone and look back up at him, logan's heart melts. the shine in your eyes and the passion in your smile is enough to soften anyone's heart, but for him, as someone who's known you for years and has been there for you through thick and thin, it touches him in such a special way. "i'm hoping to get some good photos of the races. but enough delaying. let's go visit my dad."

the creak of the gates opening makes your ears bleed, and you laugh at how logan is making the exact same face as you in reaction to such a shrill sound. despite only having visited his headstone twice before, you remember exactly where in the cemetery it is and are able to find it within five minutes.

"hi, dad," you begin, your voice already wavering just the slightest and tears beginning to well in your eyes. logan's hand squeezes yours, though, and you're reminded that he's right there. he always will be. you take a deep breath and continue. "i miss you. we all do. i know i haven't visited you in a while, and i'm sorry about that. i really do have to come stop by every now and then. i moved to austin and have a volunteering gig with the austin philharmonic at almost every show and i have a job at a company that helps students with learning disabilities learn instruments. it's really fun." you pause to wipe the tears off of your cheeks, your nose beginning to drip. "sam is in his junior year of college, and he's majoring in engineering. he flew the coop, but he still comes home for the summers. he, uh, he actually got in to c.u. boulder, like he always talked about. that kid was always thinking about college, even in middle school.

"i'm actually here with logan, too, if you hadn't noticed. do you, uh, do you want to fill him in on what's going on with you, or should i keep going?"

"whatever you prefer."

"okay, i'm going to keep talking, because i think if i don't, i'm going to completely break down. logan finally signed with williams to drive on their formula 1 team last year, like i always said he would. i'm really proud of him and really regret not telling him that more, and now that i'm saying it out loud i'm promising both you and him that i'll tell him that more often. the race this weekend is actually here, in florida. miami, specifically. it's always a celebrity shit show that no one really wants to see, but it's the main opportunity for the celebrity sponsors to actually go to a race.

"what else has been going on? oh, mom is still a therapist. i can't tell you much about that because of hipaa, but she always comes home saying that she's glad that she could help someone. i'm gonna have dinner with her tomorrow night, and then i'm going back into miami to watch logan's practice sessions."

you pause your rambling, thinking about what there is to say next, but your thought is interrupted by your stomach grumbling. loud. you and logan laugh just as loudly, the sound echoing through the grass field and stone gravesites. "oh, yeah, that's another thing. we brought lunch. i also got you pink tulips, because i know they're your favorite." you delicately rest the bouquet on your father's headstone as you sit down, then pull out the different plastic containers filled with food you'd stolen from the williams hospitality. "you'd be proud of me, dad. i smuggled this entire picnic out of the wiliams motorhome without a hiccup. robin hood style."

logan laughs, and you turn to him. he's mirrored your position, sitting cross-legged on the grass. "apple?"

"nah, i'm gonna start with my sandwich. i did grab you some of the salt and vinegar chips i know you like."

the look logan gives you can only be described as pure adoration. "you," he says, pointing a finger at you in an incredibly sassy manner, "are an absolute goddess."

"i know," you respond cheekily, tossing some hair over your shoulder.

the banter between the two of you continues through your picnic, laughter and smiles erasing the dried tracks of tears on your cheeks and on logan's. you're almost able to forget where you are.

tell me i'm despicable

almost two hours later, the two of you are laying in a nearby park underneath a tree, peacefully observing the clouds that pass overhead and talking even more about any topic that comes to your mind. the question that's been gnawing at you since your plane landed in miami eventually bubbles to the surface, and it tumbles past your lips before you can stop it.

"did you ever wonder why i moved to texas?" you look to your left where logan rests, but he keeps looking up at the sky. you mirror him.

"i always assumed it was just because you needed a change of scenery. after everything that happened and your music career taking off, it would make sense that you would relocate to somewhere better suited for you."

"that's the thing, though. if i'm being entirely honest with you, lo, i hate texas. i hate the whole state. i hate how hot it is all the time without even being humid, i hate not being able to go to the beach. i hate how dry it is. i hate how flat it is. i hate the monotony of it. i hate not being here."

logan hesitates for a moment before speaking, and it's the longest moment you've ever experienced. "why did you move to austin, then?"

when he looks over at you, you're chewing your lower lip. it's a nervous tic, logan's noticed. he's not even sure if you know you do it. "honestly? i thought you moved on from our friendship. i thought everything with f1 suddenly got so big and important and famous that maybe i wasn't... enough? i thought that being a police officer's daughter from the same town as you that was studying to teach people how to understand and play music maybe just wasn't cool enough to be friends with a world-renowned formula 1 driver."

logan's heart almost shatters when he hears the weakness in your voice. you sound so broken and so alone. he knew that, when you lost your father, you isolated yourself from a lot of people, even your best friend from high school and through your first year of college. he was the only person outside of your immediate family that you spent a decent amount of time with, but when he was admitted to the driver's academy he had to move to england. he abandoned you.

"i didn't. i never forgot about you. sometimes i still look through the photos we have together because i miss you that much."

you sit up, tears pricking your eyes for the second time that day. "really?"

"yeah. maybe once a week?"

when you look down at logan, you're suddenly starstruck. you can't help but notice all of his little features that you wouldn't see if you didn't know to look for them. his freckles that are so light you'd have to squint to see them if you didn't know them like the back of your hand. the mole on his chin that he'd always been self-conscious about but you've always seen it as beautiful. the lines from where his eyes crinkle when he smiles. the annoyingly perfect flop of his hair that he's styled almost the exact same way since you started high school together. an urge you haven't felt in years suddenly bubbles, white-hot in the pit of your stomach, and it's boiling over before you can stop it. your eyes are closed and your lips are on his. finally. after years of wanting, of stares that lasted just a bit too long to be just friendly, of flushed faces and nervous excuses, you're finally kissing him.

but he's not kissing you back.

you pull back immediately, panicked that you read something wrong. you turn away, hiding your face in your hands out of shame. "shit, logan, i'm so sorry. i thought-"

"kiss me again." logan sits up, and when you turn around, the look he's giving you can only be described as completely and entirely fucked. you don't question his statement, just lean forward, placing your lips on his, and letting yourself melt. he moans softly into the kiss, his right arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. when you pull away and open your eyes, your breath catches in your throat. he looks beautiful. his eyes remain closed, but when they flutter open, you see colors in them that you've never seen before. sure, you've always seen the darker rim of blue that outlines his irises, but now that you're so close to him, you can see the flecks of green and grey in them. it's the most stunning thing you've ever seen.

eventually, you break the silence between the two of you. "i've wanted to kiss you for so long," you whisper, so quiet you're not sure logan heard it.

but he did.

"me, too," he says, and after a beat of silence between you two, you both burst out laughing. the laugh he hears from you is the pure, bright laugh that logan's missed so dearly, the laugh that you only really let him hear. the laugh that has tears in your eyes and makes you snort because you're laughing so hard you can't even breathe properly.

eventually, when you're able to calm down, your head resting on logan's shoulder, your hand holding his, you're able to process what just happened. you just hope logan is processing it, too.

"we just kissed."

"yes. we did."

"how long have you held out on me?"

"since christmas of sophomore year. when you made me the chevron bracelet with my favorite colors."

you laugh, then lift your head to look at him. "i fell for you in october of that year. when you convinced your mom to drive two and a half hours for the marching band state finals. just so you could be there with me."

"god, we're idiots," logan laughs. you can't help but lean forward and press another kiss to his lips, lingering there and just breathing him in.

existing.

say it's unforgivable

the next two days fly by. thursday, you spend the day with your mother. she asks all sorts of questions as if she doesn't know the answers, and you answer each one with a smile on your face. when she asks about logan, you smile sheepishly. she figures out what the smile means.

"took you two long enough."

normally you'd still be in bed at 9:30 am on a friday, but today, you walk into the miami paddock clutching logan's hand for dear life. your neon green pass hangs from your neck, a white williams cap atop your head. you can't help but feel out of place, but someone calls logan's name and you both turn. your stomach drops when you see who's called his name. his hair is styled similarly to logan's, and he sports a papaya polo.

you'd know him anywhere. it's oscar piastri.

you're standing there a bit awkwardly as logan greets his friend, but your heart stops when oscar turns to you. "oscar, this is my girlfriend." he introduces you by your name to the mclaren driver and you wipe your hands on your denim shorts before shaking his hand firmly, exchanging "nice to meet you"s. the three of you chat for a few minutes before oscar is summoned by his pr manager.

"girlfriend, huh?" you look up at logan with a smile on your face, lacing his fingers with yours.

"i didn't mean to overstep, but i kind of assumed that's what this is now. is it?" he looks a bit nervous asking that, and if you thought your love for him couldn't grow any more, you thought wrong.

"that's absolutely what we are, lo. you're my boyfriend. i'm your girlfriend." you can tell just how hard logan's trying to not let the smile on his face show just how happy he is to hear you say that, and you stand on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips briefly. "you have a prep meeting to get to, don't you?"

"i do. come with me, though. i need to introduce you to alex and lily. she can show you around."

"sounds like a plan. i need to learn how to do all of..." you gesture around you, the white tents and media carts all seeming suddenly too intimidating. "...this."

logan laughs, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the williams hospitality. when you're next to him, though, despite the cameras around you and your proximity to some of the world's biggest stars, you feel safe and protected.

after meeting logan's teammate and the thai driver's girlfriend, who you quickly realize is one of the sweetest people you've ever had the pleasure of meeting, you're shown around the williams hospitality and, eventually, the paddock. lily introduces you to the other drivers' wives and girlfriends that have made it to the weekend, and when you hear a certain last name, your ears perk up.

"martinez? is she latina?"

"yeah," kika, pierre's girlfriend, says. "she's checo's wife. i'm pretty sure she's in the red bull hospitality right now, though."

"ah, speak of the devil," lily says. you see carola walking up to the five of you, alexandra ("please, honey, call me alex," she'd said, bringing you in for a kiss on your cheek,) having walked away to get a drink and escape into the sweet air conditioning. "carola, there's a new couple on the paddock."

"you're kidding," the latina answers, her accent apparent. "who?"

"logan found himself a girlfriend. allow me to introduce her." lily turns to you and introduces you by your full name, last name and all. it seems that carola has a similar reaction to your last name as you did to hers, and her head tilts to the side.

"ya no eres la única mexicana aquí," you say, and her eyebrows raise. (you aren't the only mexican here anymore.)

"hablas español, también?" (you speak spanish, too?) when you nod, her smile brightens. "hay, chica, creo que nosotras dos nos vamos a llevar muy bien." (oh, girl, i think we're going to get along very well.)

on saturday, you find yourself back in the williams motorhome, except this time, you wear a second badge, the neon green lanyard reading grid access in bold black lettering. like the day before, you clutch logan's hand for your own comfort until, much to your dismay, he's summoned for driver duties. you place a quick kiss on his cheek, and when you pull back, you aren't sure if the flush on his cheeks is from the affection or the miami heat. probably both.

"in case i don't see you before sprint. for luck."

"oh, you'll be in the garage. that's what this pass is for," logan says, holding your second badge in front of your face. "lily will show you where to go. i'll take a kiss anyways, though." you smile, stand on your toes, and kiss him, pulling back before he can wrap an arm around your waist. (that was a trick he very much enjoyed, as you'd learned the night before. there was something in him that needed you as close to him as possible, and it covered every nerve ending in your body in liquid fire.)

"off you go. you need to get race ready. i'll see you before you go out on the grid. don't worry." you gently shove him away with a smile, and you'd stare at him longer if your ankles weren't suddenly being attacked. you look down and squeal. "hi, leo! did your dad let you run free?" you squat down and scratch the mini daschund behind his disproportionally large ears, and he barks excitedly.

someone curses in french to your right, and you look up from the little golden ball of energy to see none other than charles leclerc frantically searching around. leo barks again, and the monégasque whips around, then locks eyes on you first, then his dog.

"merde, leo. you have too much energy for it being this early in the morning," he laughs as he walks over to you.

"i apologize, it appears i've unintentionally kidnapped your dog." you stand, and leo jumps at your calves again.

"ah, no harm, no foul," charles replies, picking up his dog and holding him close to his chest. "i will say, though, you look strangely familiar. have we met? my name is charles."

"we have not." you extend your hand and offer your name, and, when charles' eyebrows furrow and his head tilts in confusion, you realize that means nothing to him. "i'm logan's girlfriend."

"ah! yes, of course! he has a photo of the two of you at your high school graduation in his wallet. that's where i knew you from. well, it's nice to meet you!" that was news to you. logan has a picture of you in his wallet? either way, you just casually met one of the most famous people in the world like it was a standard tuesday.

if this is what i signed up for by being logan's girlfriend, then it is absolutely wild.

you're able to catch another good luck kiss with logan as he's almost fully suited up, and fuck, does he look good. his fireproof suit hangs low on his hips, the arms tied together in front of him. dark blue is a good color on him, and his facial hair is grown out in just the slightest. you can't lie, he looks hot as hell.

you cross your legs in an attempt to curb the heat that creeps down your tummy and between them. it doesn't work.

you amend it that night in logan's hotel room following his p10 in the sprint.

on sunday, you try to avoid thinking about the night before as you follow the same routine as the two days before- arriving early in the day, checking in at the williams motorhome, and then killing time until the driver's parade at 2:00 PM. you spend time with your new group of friends, spending the three remaining hours before the parade in the paddock club. rebecca, carlos' girlfriend, snickers at your shocked face when you see some of your idols and favorite celebrities casually walking around, gladly taking some photos for you as you're practically buzzing with excitement.

after the driver's parade, it's a whirlwind. you're swept back into the williams garage and find logan's driver's room relatively easily thanks to the help of some of the engineers and mechanics, but one of them stops you before you can venture too far into the depths of the hallways.

"could you tell him we have the pre-race strategy meeting in twenty minutes?"

"yeah, for sure." as you approach logan's door, you have to bite down on your lower lip to stifle the grin that wants to split your face. you knock on his door, and when he opens it, you know something's wrong. "lo, are you okay?" his eyes are red and his hand shakes on the doorknob. instead of a verbal response, he just opens the door a bit further to let you in, and, as soon as it shuts behind you, he sobs, and your heart shatters.

"i'm so scared. i'm so scared that something's going to happen and i'm going to let all of these people down and-" you gather him into your arms and he cries into the crook of your neck, your williams crewneck shirt now damp with his tears. you couldn't care less.

"you're going to do amazing, logie. i know you will." with your arms wrapped around him, it's almost like a weighted blanket of safety has encompassed him, and his sobs slow, his breaths growing deeper and more even. you continue murmuring words of confidence into his shoulder, and not a single word you say is empty.

"hey. look at me." you lean back and gently cup his cheek with your right palm, and when his eyes meet yours, you know that he needed to cry that one out. "do you feel a little bit better?" logan nods, tilting his head ever so slightly to kiss your palm, his own hand coming up to rest over yours. it's a cute, sappy, stupidly romantic moment that you from three weeks ago would've probably thought was the grossest thing known to mankind, but you can't help but bask in the moment. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better right now?" your voice is a soothing balm over logan's agitated nerves, and he slowly untangles himself from you and guides you over to the couch that's against the back wall, where he sits down and you curl up to his left side.

"can you just... talk? about anything?"

"are you seriously asking if me, the person with the most rampant adhd you've ever met, can talk about something? yes, logan, i absolutely can. what to talk about, though?"

as you talk, deciding to info dump about your favorite classical music piece, logan can't help but watch it unfold. he doesn't know jack shit about music theory, but listening to you ramble about something you're passionate about brings him so much peace. you're disturbed about fifteen minutes later by a knock at the door, promptly followed by a disembodied voice telling logan that it was time for the strategy meeting.

"aw, shit," he says, leaning his head back and rubbing at his eyes. "i have that to go to now."

"yeah, sorry. i was supposed to tell you about that but we had a bigger problem on our hands." your voice is sheepish now that your info dump has been cut short, but logan leans over to you and kisses you, soft and slow, just like the first time he kissed you properly in the park. when he pulls away, he looks so much calmer than he was twenty minutes before. "is there anything else i can do?"

"go have some fun in the paddock. and please drink some water." you roll your eyes and stand, bringing him in for another hug before you slip out of the door.

almost two hours later, you're back in the williams garage with a guest headset over your ears. your stomach twists with nerves as the national anthem concludes. lily's hand is clasped with yours.

"the first lap is the worst. after that, you lose a lot of the anxiety," she assures you, noticing how you chew your lower lip.

"thanks." you pause for a moment, contemplating another question. "does it ever get easier? seeing how they go out there and drive like absolute maniacs for fun?"

"it does. it took me a couple of months, but after alex showed me all of the safety features in the car and in his fireproofs, it definitely helped."

it's the moment you've been dreading.

one red light.

two.

three.

four.

five.

and then none.

the engines roar and the race has begun. lily didn't lie to you- the first lap is excruciatingly long, but when everyone's completed their first loop around the circuit, you let yourself breathe. your eyes are trained on the screen above you, and the laps are flying by so quickly that you barely process that the race is nearly halfway over.

but then logan's car is in the wall. fuck.

as you watch the replay of his crash, you can feel white-hot rage burning in your body. after the race stewards only declare a ten-second penalty and two super license points, though, you're fuming. "two penalty points and a ten-second penalty? magnussen caused logan's race to end, and they just let him go? they just forgive him and move on? how can he get away with that? this is bullshit!"

what a crash, what a rush

the first person logan looks for when he walks back into the williams garage, his visor still low over his eyes in shame, is you. when you see him walking towards the room where you and lily watch the race, you tear the headset off of your ears and run to him. the feeling of his arms wrapping around your shoulders and hearing his heartbeat even through your musician's earplugs soothes your agitated nerves. he's okay. he's alive. he isn't hurt. "thank fuck you're okay," you say, even though he definitely can't hear you through his helmet and over the roar of passing engines. when you pull away, you press a kiss to his knuckles and hope he understands how much love you're trying to convey through such a small gesture.

fuck me up, florida!

one of logan's best friends on the grid is oscar. oscar's teammate got his maiden win after almost five years of waiting in miami.

like any sensible person, you celebrate with him.

you have no idea what the name of the club is, much less how many drinks you've had so far, but what you do know is that lando has commandeered the dj station and logan is pressed against your back, his hands resting on your hips. the air is hot and thick, your heartbeat pounds in your head. the opening notes of bad bunny's tití me preguntó begin playing through the massive speakers, and you shoot a glare up to lando that he doesn't see, his focus instead on the equipment in front of him. when the bass hits, though, you let all apprehensiveness go and your genetics take the reins. your hips sway and swing to the beat, your hands wander up and down your torso, and logan simply follows your lead. it takes you a moment to realize that, if you want to get a rise out of him, you're going to have to spin around and face him.

with your hips swaying against his and how unbearably beautiful you look in the dim light, your skin glowing with sweat and your hair up in a high ponytail, logan can't help but lean down and kiss you when you finally turn around. you reciprocate gladly, your right leg slotting between both of his, and...

oh.

oh.

he's hard.

you pull away slightly, barely an inch between your lips. "slow your roll there, tiger."

"i don't want to." fire zips down your spine at the sound of his voice, low and breathy and so, so desperate. "need to fuck you."

"should we get outta here, then?"

"i thought you'd never ask." you smile and kiss him quickly, then take his hand and weave your way through the crowded dance floor. as the miami night air hits your face, you immediately feel cooler. you sigh, taking a moment to breathe and regulate your heart rate and body temperature, but you can't breathe for that long before logan wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him and kissing your neck. you laugh, running your hands along his forearms.

"logan, not here. the hotel is two blocks away."

"i can't help it, baby, you just look so pretty," he hums, kissing the back of your neck once more before pulling away and stepping around to face you. "you look so pretty, and you're mine."

his possessiveness of you makes more heat zip down your spine, and you almost drool at how he's looking at you. his eyes, normally a beautiful mix between the blues of the sky and sea, ar"e almost completely dark, only a small sliver of his irises remaining, and the muscles in his jaw tick. "hotel. now."

by the time you reach the door to logan's hotel room, you're both out of breath from how hard he kissed you in the elevator and the arousal and need between your legs won't be stopped unless he replaces it. you stumble through the door and try to kiss logan again, matching the vigor he showed you in the elevator, but he stops you. "wanna take my time with you tonight."

"yeah?" you raise an eyebrow and inspect his face. the blinds are open but no lights are on, so all you can see is the side of his face that's illuminated by the lights from the streets of miami. it's an unusually beautiful sight.

"yeah. nothing about what i'm about to do to you is going to be fast. i'm gonna make you feel good tonight. how's that sound?"

"that sounds amazing, logan." you lean forward and kiss him gently, your lips slotting together as if you were made for each other. who knows, maybe you were. the next five minutes are a blur, but before you know it, you're laying back against the pillows on logan's bed and his face is buried between your thighs, his tongue working magic on your clit. the air in the hotel room is filled with your moans and the sounds of logan devouring you like a man starved, and it's the most beautiful mix of sounds you've ever heard. when he flicks his tongue oh-so-perfectly against your entrance, his nose brushing over your clit, you moan and pull his hair hard, which, in turn, makes him moan against you.

you aren't sure how much time passes or how many orgasms logan pulls from you with just his tongue and his fingers, but when you feel completely and entirely spent, your chest heaving and your hairline sparkling with tiny beads of sweat, you pull logan up to you by his shoulders, and he looks completely and entirely fucked. "need you inside of me," you mumble, wiping at the mix of spit and cum that coats the entire bottom half of his face with your thumbs. as if on instinct, you bring your hands to your mouth and lick them clean, and logan groans at the sight. "inside. now."

"as you wish, baby." logan's hands fumble at his boxers, the only item of clothing he was left wearing, and when he finally, finally pushes himself into you, you both moan. your hands scrabble at his shoulders and back, most definitely leaving red marks that will raise later, and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down and then gently kissing over the red spot.

"nngh, lo-" your brain is short circuiting, logan's cock filling you up so perfectly and absolutely ruining you for any other man ever.

"yeah? you okay, baby?" he pulls back from your neck and scans your face for any sign of discomfort of pain, his sky blue eyes searching your own. the feeling of safety you get from just that one action is almost enough to make you sob from how good you feel because of him, both physically and emotionally.

"feels so good, lo. j'st... move, please."

"you sure? i don't wanna hurt you."

"positive. now please." you reach a hand up and pull him down towards you by the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard. "fuck me properly." without wasting a second, logan reaches a hand down and hooks it under your left thigh, bringing your leg up to rest around his waist, then pulling back and thrusting back in fast. the moan that rips itself from your throat is sinful, and your breath is being punched from your lungs at the downright brutal pace logan's setting. your right leg finds itself locking around his waist, only bringing him infinitely closer, and now, each time he thrusts back into you, your clit bumps against his pelvis. within minutes, you're embarrassingly close to cumming again, and through your garbled mumbling and clawing at his shoulders, he understands, reaching his right hand down to gently press against your clit.

"cum for me, baby, please, need to feel you cum for me just one more time, just let go, i've got you." it's logan's voice that ultimately sends you pummelling over the edge into an orgasm that makes your back arch and your vision fuzz at the edges, and you cum with a cry of his name. his hips slow and his fingers maintain a steady rhythm on your clit, but you can tell it's taking its toll on him. "where- where do you want me to cum?"

"i'm on the pill, lo. inside, baby, please," you whine, and it takes two more thrusts before logan groans, his hips coming to a shuddering halt as he cums inside of you. it's a beautiful sight, too- his eyes scrunched closed and his eyebrows drawn together, his hair a complete mess from where your hands had pulled at it. your hands run through his hair and along his back, and you patiently wait as he comes back to earth.

"hi," he murmurs, opening his eyes and smiling down at you.

"hi," you respond.

no other words need to be said. you know you love him, and he knows he loves you.

and you're both okay with that.

this took me way longer to write than i thought it would, but i absolutely love it! reminder that my asks and requests are open, and i always get excited when i get feedback! take care of urselves lovies <3

[tealmaskmybeloved]

(UPDATE: As of October 1st, my washing machine is working, but the other stuff still applies)

Hey guys.

I really hate asking for help here, but this is important.

So. My washing machine broke, and I can't do laundry.

Laundromats cost money, and in terms of money, my family and I aren't doing so hot. Money is tight and going to laundromats is going to make it even tighter. And if I can't afford the laundromat, I'll have no clean clothes to wear.

My aunt likely isn't going to do anything to help, and she'll just blame my mom for it like she does with everything bad that happens.

Even if the washer was working fine, I'm on a time limit. My aunt wants to have a room for her granddaughter (my cousin's daughter), and that means one of us is going to have to leave or be forced to leave.

I've been doing this program (that I can't go in the specifics of because I don't want to doxx myself) that will help me get a job in the future, but it's at least 10 sessions, Monday to Friday, and I'm only on session 3.

And even then it's gonna take a bit for me to actually get a job.

I want to get out of my house and move somewhere that isn't this.

The house hasn't been tended to by my aunt, and she refuses to do anything about it.

My mom is disabled and can't fix it. Even if she was capable, my aunt should have to be the one to help the house not turn to shit, because my aunt owns the house.

Living here has been an absolute nightmare. For 4 years now, I have had to endure my sibling falling through the floor and getting their leg stuck, me falling down the stairs into literal sewage, using entire bins to collect rainwater from the roof, one of the cats getting an infection from his wart (that had been getting worse each day and she did NOTHING), dealing with fruit flies and roaches multiple times, stepping in cat shit regularly, and having to hear the dogs whine and bark because one has their fur falling out and has a rash because he's allergic to the dog food he eats and the other has severe hip problems due to being in cages 24/7.

The only reason why my family is even here in the first place is due to us not being able to afford living where we lived before, and my aunt took us in.

I've tried to make things work, to find the positive side of things, but living here has taken a toll on my health.

The only source of income my family has at the moment is child support and food stamps.

I almost never ask for help, especially not online, but my family could really use the money.

I do commissions, and my cash app is $AriAnimates79.

If you want to commission me or even donate, it's be much appreciated.

I have a bigger audience here on this blog, although I'll be reblogging it to my others as well.

Anything helps, even reblogging.

Thanks in advance.

[nariism]

come out and haunt me

pair. itoshi sae x ghost!reader

content: fluff, angst/comfort with a happy ending, reader is a ghost, platonic + romantic interactions, strangers to friends (to more?), slight pining

synopsis. sae is 13 years old when he moves to madrid. his temporary apartment is old and cheap, and worst of all it's haunted. but he finds your company better than nothing, even if you do tend to knock all of his belongings over.

wc. 5.7k

You are dead.

As it comes to all mortal humans, you have died. You can't remember when, or how, or why— only that it is your duty to haunt this home, that you are abysmally cold, and that you are dead.

You don't know if you had any last words, what it was like to draw a breath, or how to stop feeling so cold. Cradling yourself somehow makes it worse. But you are dead, so what does it matter if you can't remember?

If you had aspirations and meaning in life, then you suppose you should try to find them in death, too. So you float around empty halls, deliberately bump into things just for the fun of it, and pretend that you aren't dead. It is purposeful enough.

There's a boy who lives with you.

You are dead, and he is alive, yet he seems completely unbothered by your loud, obnoxious presence.

Sae feels more dead than alive.

He is 13 years old when he moves into his temporary home in Madrid. It's old and worn. It is all his parents could afford with Yen in a foreign country.

His new home is despairingly lonely. It makes the heart in his chest sink into the pit of his stomach. He misses Rin. His parents. Japan.

He should be thankful. He doesn't mean to be a brat. But the small apartment is cramped and cold and smells like mildew. He's allergic to something in the walls. His light buzzes horribly when it turns on.

And, well. The place is haunted.

You are a ghost haunting an old, rickety apartment in Madrid.

You've never seen your reflection in the mirror, but you're pretty sure you look scary. There has been others before him— a young couple with a dog; a retired carpenter; a businessman complaining about how shitty work is over the phone. Each and every one of them have left you the same way: screaming, crying, colour drained from their faces and packing their suitcase before you could even say hello.

It's a little lonely, being a ghost. Sometimes you wish you came off a little friendlier. You have no ill intent, you're just bored. Bored and lonely and wishing to know why everyone thinks you're so terrifying.

The boy who lives with you is the first. He's the first to look you dead in the eyes and shrug you off. He's the first to fall asleep knowing your presence is watching. He's the first to leave out a bowl of warm, steaming rice for you even though he seems to know you can't physically eat it.

His company is silent, as is yours. It's better than nothing.

Sae is 13 years and 5 months old when he tells Rin his apartment is haunted.

"A ghost? Seriously?" Rin sounds unimpressed even through the static of the phone call. Take it from the kid who watches horror movies in his spare time. Freak, Sae thinks.

"Seriously. I have a picture."

He can hear his brother pulling his phone away from his ear to look at the image he just sent. The call goes quiet for a moment, and then Rin is scoffing in the microphone again.

"Quit messing with me." The younger Itoshi sighs. "This isn't funny."

Rin is only 11. He lives at home with Mom and Dad. He's not alone right now, in a place where everyone speaks a jumbled language he can't decipher yet.

He doesn't understand that even if Sae isn't being haunted, he shouldn't crush his brother's hopes that someone, or something, is watching over him.

"I'm not," Sae deadpans.

"Yeah, okay, and what does this ghost do, then?" He still sounds skeptical.

"Mostly just knocks over my books and stuff."

From his couch, he watches you bristle in embarrassment and scurry away into the darkness of the hall.

You are some sort of untethered soul, unsure of where your actual body rests. It could be 10 meters from this apartment. It could be in Antarctica, for all you know.

Okay, well, Antarctica is a bit of a reach, but you're certain that your body is somewhere. You wonder what kind of clothes you used to wear; what kind of music you used to listen to; what kind of hairstyle you used to prefer.

You wonder if these things are anything like Sae's.

He's all you have right now. It would be nice if you had some things in common. Maybe you could be friends, if he was ever going to acknowledge you to your face instead of gossiping to his brother.

You watch him quietly from the kitchen table, waiting for your bowl of rice. You must make some kind of face when he instead places a plate of eggs in front of you.

He almost laughs, you think. He hasn't shown any sort of emotion in response to you thus far, so it's hard to tell.

"Coaches told me I have to be stricter about my diet," he says out loud. It's the first words he has ever spoken to you. It's the first words anyone has ever spoken to you.

He eats his bland eggs silently after that remark, eyeing them disdainfully.

You have that in common, at least. You miss your warm bowl of rice.

Sae thinks you are funny.

He's only ever known ghosts to be malicious, benevolent beings. Things stuck in purgatory with no way out, forced to wander the mortal plane and thus turning into baneful monsters. Watching spooky movies with Rin has ingrained this into him—  hardwired his brain into giving him goosebumps whenever you're around even though he knows you're harmless.

He has to wonder how anyone could ever find a ghost like you genuinely scary, with your avoidant eyes and that patience while you wait for breakfast.

He doesn't mind doing twice the amount of dishes. Not if it means he doesn't feel alone.

You do silly things, like shoving his belongings over when you want his attention, or sitting on the floor and blowing bone-chillingly cold air into his face when he's taking his midday nap.

He's discovered that your inconsistent corporeal interactions with the world are quite amusing.

"What's your name?" He asks one day over eggs that he's shoving around on his plate.

Silence. Of course.

"Don't have one?"

You shake your head, but really, you don't know. You can't remember.

Sae has never been the talkative type, but for some reason he just can't keep his mouth closed. Being a complete shut-in and not having anyone to talk to outside of his team would do that to him, he guesses. He's thankful that you at least don't seem to have a language barrier when he speaks Japanese.

"Should I name you?"

Your offended expression screams: What am I, a pet?

He just smiles, placing his fork down and observing you carefully. And the name he decides on dances at the tip of his tongue, sounds so sweet coming from his lips.

You can't help but think the name was meant for you, in life or in death.

You like listening to Sae talk.

He has a voice smooth as silk, so charming and boyish. He's young, you think. He told you once that you also looked rather young, and asked you how old you were when you died.

Even if you had an answer for him, it's not like you could have told him.

Sae is famous for his age, you discover one night while watching television with him. You're sitting on the floor and he's on the couch. You cause the TV to frizzle and crack with static but he doesn't shoo you away. Maybe he finds your presence more valuable than the background noise of the screen.

He's in a recording, playing what he calls "football"— light blue uniform, eyes wide with adrenaline, sweat sticking to his forehead and a proud shine in his expression. He isn't smiling by any means (you've also discovered that he rarely does), but you can tell he's happy.

"I'm going to be the greatest striker," he says from the couch. He talks about his dreams a lot, which is apparently what he used to do with Rin, but you don't mind filling in that role temporarily. "I'm going to be the best in the entire world."

You don't know anything about football, but you believe him anyways.

Sae is 14 years old when he gets his first contract payment.

This is his chance, he realizes, to move out of his shitty little apartment and into an actual livable home.

He has to consider if you'll feel lonely, if you even can feel lonely, and if you'll like hanging out with your next housemate, whoever it is that's unlucky enough to have a ghost befall them.

He's getting soft. If it were any other point in his life, Sae would have taken the chance to move out without hesitation. But you've been there for him since day one, kept him enough company — no matter how quiet — for him not to go literally insane.

You're the only thing he has in Madrid that he can come home to right now. You’re the only reason he even comes home at night instead of just sleeping in the locker rooms.

If not him, who else would feed you crappy bland eggs in the morning?

You, football, sleep. You, football, sleep. You, football, sleep. At some point, it became his routine.

"I was thinking of moving out."

Your head tilts to the side. You seem perplexed by his statement.

"Like, leaving. Leaving here."

You blink at him, head tilting the other way. There's a look in your eyes that tells him you understand. There's also a look that tells him it's not your first time being abandoned, left in this terribly lonely, smelly apartment.

"I can never tell what you're thinking," he huffs.

You're still for a moment, just staring at him as if you suddenly can't understand Japanese. But then you get up from the table, walk over to the container of dry rice that's been untouched for so long that it's gathering dust, and knock it over.

"Hey," he scolds sharply, chair screeching as he stands. "I have to clean that, you know?"

You start moving the spilled rice into place. He watches curiously as you sort dry rice into a pile. You don't know any Kanji, he isn't surprised. But you know enough to draw him a universally understood symbol.

When he peers over at the messy counter, he finds himself staring at a giant X. Stay, it means. Don't leave.

That night, when he knows you've retreated into the closet where you seemingly go to sleep, he crumples up the lease for his new place without signing and burns the paper.

It's because he needs to make you eggs tomorrow morning. Only he would know to do that.

"Do ghosts ever have dreams?"

You raise your head from the edge of the bed. You've made it a new habit to protect him in his sleep, from what he can tell. Perching yourself on the floor beside the mattress and resting there, head in your arms, making his sheets cold.

You shake your head. Of course not, he internally smacks himself. What a ridiculous notion.

He rolls himself over onto his side, looking at you from under his duvet. "So when you sleep, you don't see anything?"

Another shake of the head. He isn't sure you're understanding him. There's another pause as he peers at you, and then he sighs, eyes sliding shut.

"Do ghosts ever have dreams?" He asks again, this time emphasizing his words in a different way and hoping you'll answer him the way he wants.

Your eyes shift away for a second, as if pondering. When you look back he's surprised to see that you look... bashful?

You point at him, then at yourself, then shy away again.

You. Me. Friends.

Sae feels silly that it makes his heart ache a little— the sadness carried in your face and a loneliness so powerful he feels it rattling in his own bones.

Well, the two of you have a lot more in common than he thought. How long had you been alone? Was that really all you ever dreamed of? Having a friend?

Suddenly, his doubts about his own dreams feel immeasurably small.

He reaches out to pat your head. His hand goes through you.

Sae is 15 years old when he packs up his belongings for a flight to Japan.

"I'll be back," he promises with a small smile. You believe him. He doesn't lie to you.

You wait patiently at the door for him for two weeks, three days, and sixteen hours. When he comes home, he finds you sitting on the floor like you always do with your head in your knees and a sleepy expression on your face.

He seems colder. More withdrawn, for some reason.

"Miss me?" Sae asks, but he's not even looking at you. He makes his way over to the kitchen and dumps a cup of rice into the cooker, suitcase abandoned at the door unpacked.

You trail behind him curiously, watching him in confusion as he washes it in the sink. He pauses, finally glancing at you before reaching over and dumping a second cup of rice in.

"I stress eat. Don't tell my coach."

The words don't make much sense to you, but you nod anyways.

For the first time in months, he places a bowl of warm rice in front of you. You do as he does, say thanks for the food in your head even though you can't eat, and observe him. You both sit quietly in the dim light of the apartment, moonlight beaming through your single rickety window.

He only gets four bites in before he puts his head in his hands and sobs.

You've never seen someone cry so hard before. Usually, they only do it when they first catch a glimpse of you and flee in terror. You've never known it to be such a painful sound— like a bird singing for the sky but never finding it.

Sae sits there for a long time just crying to himself, not caring that your presence is still watching. It's not like you'd ever judge him or have the voice to speak this secret, anyways.

"Fuck—" he hiccups, wiping up his face. "—Sorry."

You look at him funny. He has no reason to apologize. He's just a kid. A 15 year old kid who needs to stress eat in the solitude of his lonely apartment right now. It makes your chest squeeze; an unfamiliar, horrible feeling that's completely new to you. You wonder if this is what all the anime he watches calls a heart.

By the time he finishes crying, his rice is cold. And when he looks up, his eyes widen. Your lips are trembling and you look like you want to shout at him, but you can't. You are dead. You're a ghost. You can't yell some sense into him, even if you tried.

In the pale moonlight shining into the room, he can see tears illuminated on your cheeks.

Sae is 16 years old when he meets his first partner.

"They're nice," he reassures you as he slicks his bangs up with gel. You shake your head in disapproval and he rolls his eyes. You always liked his bangs down, thinks he looks better that way. "Well, I can't stay single forever."

You scowl at him and swivel on your heel to stubbornly deny his claims. He just laughs.

"You're seriously jealous?"

You shoot him a glare.

"If you really don't like them, you could always scare them away. You are a ghost, aren't you?" He reaches up to pat your head as he always does. And as always, his hand phases through you.

He turns around to fix his hair again, leaning into the mirror to see himself closer.

You're not sure if you even have human features. You can't see them in a reflection, anyways. Even if you did, you're sure they're pretty scary.

You glance at Sae in the reflection. He looks as good as ever, no longer a scrawny little 13 year old kid who eats rice for breakfast every morning. You wonder if his partner is pretty like he is.

He must notice the chill in the air grow ten times colder— a telling sign that your mood is dropping. He turns around to see what has happened, only to find you sulking.

"What?"

You pout, gesturing to the mirror. He looks to the vanity, then to you, and he shakes his head with an exasperated smile.

"I was wondering when you'd ask," he says as if this was a conversation he's been waiting for. And then he talks. Talks more than you've heard in a long time— since he came home from Japan, probably.

He's gotten meaner over the years. He was always a rude little kid, but being pushed around in football must have given him thicker skin and a sharper tongue. You've never known him to be a saint of a human, someone who speaks so eloquently in their descriptions. But here he is now, defying your every expectation like he always does.

He tells you what colour your hair is. Compares the shape of your head to a fruit you can't recall an image of. Gives you a detailed explanation of all your flaws and marks and why he thinks they're so perfect because it proves that you were indeed alive and human at some point.

"You're beautiful," he concludes casually, as if he's not turning the entire world on its head right now.

Silence fills the room as he waits for your response. You don't do anything but gawk at him, and he chuckles.

He doesn't show up to his date that night.

"Your hair got longer," Sae points out one day while he's scrolling through his phone.

Your eyes flutter open from where your head rests on the coffee table. You hadn't even noticed. Can ghosts grow? 

"You know, I used to think you'd stay the same forever, but you've been growing up with me. It's cute."

Have you? Is it cute? Are you seriously so tethered to him that you've been unconsciously changing to match him?

Sae puts his phone down at your confusion. "Should I give you a birthday if you're going to grow up?"

You don't know what a birthday is. When he tries to explain it, you're even more perplexed. Ghosts don't have birthdays. They have... deathdays.

He puts a cake in front of you anyways and lets you blow out the candles.

Sae is 17 years old when he gets the eviction notice.

Four years. Four long, hard, unbelievably painful years later, and he's finally being kicked out of his house.

13 year old Sae would have celebrated. All he feels now is despair.

He doesn't tell you. He can't. How can he explain that he won't wake up every morning at 6am sharp to make you eggs? That you won't have someone around who will tell you every little thing that's changed about you from the last day? That you won't be able to doodle him little incomprehensible blobs with dry rice anymore?

He shouldn't care so much. You're not chained to this Earth. You might just disappear once he leaves, inperceptable to anyone else. The thought makes him so sick that he throws up that night. He tells you he ate some bad food.

Sae doesn't want you to feel sad or lonely, but it's not like he can just become a squatter in this place. His dream is to play football, not be thrown into jail.

You wake up one morning, and he's gone.

There isn't a note. There isn't an explanation anywhere to be found. There isn't even a trace of evidence that Itoshi Sae ever lived here.

Well, except for the plate of eggs and bowl of rice sitting on the stove.

You thought you would have been used to being alone by now. For some time, you were used to it. But that was many years ago.

You're not sure how long you've been haunting this apartment in Madrid, nor do you know how much time passes after Sae leaves. The world seems to come to a halt, actually. Without him, what fun is being a ghost?

Now you're just a lost soul like all the others. There isn't anything special about you. You're just the ghost that used to haunt Itoshi Sae and wake him up from his naps.

For the first time in years, you only know one thing. A singular fact that keeps you bound to this world: it's your duty to haunt this home. There is nothing else.

No one moves in after Sae leaves. No one new comes to be haunted. No one dares to set foot into this apartment. You remember that there were moments when life flickered inside of you, if even for just a fraction of your infinite time. The reason for that has abandoned you without explanation.

There's a knock on the door one day. You can't open it, and the person outside doesn't bother sticking around to see you phasing through the door to look around.

There's a birthday cake on the floor with candles that say '19' sticking out of it.

Only one human in the entire world would have deemed today to be your 19th birthday. He's nowhere to be seen.

He moves back to Japan on his 21st birthday. Sae is having trouble remembering what you look like, despite seeing you in his dreams every night.

It's a terrible realization. So terrible that it makes him sob into his pillow at night when no one in the world is awake to hear his anguish.

Japan is lonelier than Madrid. He never thought it would happen, and he blames you entirely.

He doesn't have anyone waiting for him when he opens the door to his luxury penthouse apartment. He only washes one plate in the morning. He wakes up from his midday naps undisturbed and rested.

Sae misses you deeply. And he can't help but wonder if you feel the same.

(You don't know what the yearning ache inside of you is. You don't know what to call it.

You miss him, too. You just can't put a name to the feeling.)

He doesn't stop seeing you in wisps; little blurs in his peripheral that make his head turn fast as lightning. Wherever he looks, you're gone.

It's not fair that you're a ghost who both literally and figuratively haunts him. He'd like to move on in life and forget about those 4 miserable years he spent living in that damned apartment.

He can't. Sae is incapable of moving on from that place. The irony of it is that you actually can't move on from that place, for some reason.

He would give anything to have you haunting him again. It doesn't matter where in the world the two of you are, if you were together everything would be okay. He's impossibly lonely without you.

You start to think that you're the selfish one.

The idea of leaving this terrible apartment in Madrid scares you to your very core— whatever soul is resting in your incorporeal body. It's not fair to place the blame entirely on Sae. Not when you're too wimpy to leave this place and find him.

Death is lonely without him.

One step forward, one day at a time. It's the advice Sae used to mutter to himself while getting ready in the morning.

One step forward, one day at a time. One step forward, one day at a time. And day by day, you're slowly inching closer to the door.

Sae talks to Rin and all he can think about is your confused smiles and head tilts. He talks to his parents and all he can imagine is how cold the room would be if it were you. He talks to his fucking therapist and thinks that all of her shitty advice can't compare to your quiet understanding— that your tears of solidarity are the only thing that could make him feel better.

It's fucked up, really, that he can't move on. His body is in Japan going through the motions: playing football, being famous, being interviewed and going home to nothing. His heart is in Madrid. You took it with you and refuse to let go.

You're the closest thing to love he's ever felt, perhaps— his only friend in Spain. His only reason not to leave. A ghost from his childhood that protected him in his sleep and ate bland eggs for breakfast across the table from him every morning. A ghost that would sit on the floor and wait for him to come home every day. A ghost that kept him company when he had no one else.

He loves you. He doesn't. He needs you. He doesn't. He misses you. He doesn't. Whatever. What does it matter now?

"So playing football has always been your dream?"

Sae stares blankly at the interviewer. He's reminded of a distant conversation: he is laying in bed looking at a ghost with a lump in his throat, and then he makes his first and only friend in Spain.

"Yes."

"And now that you're back in Japan, will you be playing for the national team?"

"I have no interest in playing on such a weak team." In other words, he has no reason to stay in Japan.

"So where will you go?"

Anywhere but here, he wants to say. In reality, he doesn't know where to go anymore if not to his old apartment in Spain. He just knows that he wants to come home to your sleepy face.

(That night, he makes two bowls of rice. He cries like he's 15 years old again and just ruined his relationship with his brother.)

You've never been outside before.

You've heard about it, almost entirely from Sae but also from little snippets of anime he liked to watch. It's brighter than you imagined it to be, and warmer. You're not sure you've ever felt so warm before— it's hard to when you are a walking freezer.

There isn't anyone to tell you where to go. No one pays you any mind. You wonder if you even exist anymore outside of the small confines of that old apartment.

Something tells you that you do.

You don't know where to start looking. He could be all the way across the globe for all you know, though he did used to talk about his home country.

You have no map. You have no sense of direction. You have no one to ask for help. 

All you have is the soul caged within your ghostly body tugging in one direction, and wispy feet dragging your body along in response.

Sae is 23 years old when he finally signs the contract to play for Japan, after months of being pestered by Rin about it.

His relationship with his brother is complicated. On one hand, he feels as though Rin will never truly forgive him for what he did when he was 15. On the other, he looks so ecstatic to be playing football together again that Sae wonders if their discourse was imaginary.

Japan is just a smidge less lonely with Rin in his life.

He wants to tell you all about it. That everything worked out and it's fine now. That you can stop weeping for him and to wipe up the tears that fall into nothing.

He counts the distance between you. Fourteen thousand kilometres separate him from telling you how he's living his new dream: playing football with his little brother again.

Fourteen thousand kilometers, ten years of needing you, and a reminder set on his phone to buy you a birthday cake again this year.

His heart aches.

Japan is loud and busy and everyone is always in a hurry to get places.

You have to wonder if Sae really grew up in a city like this, and how he turned out so calm and unmovable. The street names are all in Kanji you can't read, but your soul tells you that you're going the right way, anyways.

There's a crowd gathering when your feet finally come to a halt. Lights flash and there are fancy looking people with microphones clamouring toward the center.

It's only a fraction of a second that your eyes meet, and then someone shoves him into the back of the car and they drive off.

He must be famous here, too.

Sae is 24 years old tossing and turning in his bed, wondering if you were just a figment of his imagination or if you were truly standing there under a streetlamp watching him.

It wouldn't be the first time he dreamed you into existence; on some occasions you feel so real that he nearly reaches out to attempt to pat your head, like he always used to do when he was younger.

He goes back to that spot a couple hours later. The crowd is long gone and it's the dead of night— no one would be around to witness Itoshi Sae looking psychotic.

He doesn't find you in that spot. Instead, you're two blocks down and crouched in front of the window of a 24 hour shop. There's an ad for sparklers, and though you can't read the poster itself, the picture makes you stare with wide eyes.

He crouches down beside you as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

"Do you want one?" He asks. You look at him in a strange way and his knees grow weak beneath him. You nod.

He comes out five minutes later with a few packs in his hand, walking away from you down the street to the park. You follow him quietly as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

Sae holds one out, flicks the lighter in his pocket open and ignites the first sparkler. You watch it in fascination, ghostly form illuminated in warm orange and yellow light.

He smiles at you as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

When the sparkler dies out, he lights another. And another. And another, until he's gone through all the packets he could afford with the Yen in his wallet right now.

As if 7 years of distance never existed between you, he reaches out to pat your head. His hand falls through you.

You think Sae's new apartment is pretentious, but it's clean and open and doesn't smell like mildew.

It's hard to imagine what kind of purpose you had before him— all your memories are flooded with his hands and eyes and bangs and small smiles reserved for you. You think that the only reason you were ever materialized into the mortal plane was to haunt him, and only him. Itoshi Sae's permanent looming presence.

He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, you've noticed he's been smiling more lately since you started waiting for him to come home by the door.

Sae is 25 years old when you fall asleep beside him in his bed.

You don't care that he's a kicker or a blanket hog in his sleep. It's not like either of those would affect you. He watches your sleeping face carefully, waiting to see if he would ever wake up from this blissful dream and be alone again.

But every time he wakes up, there you are.

You've grown since he left you in Madrid— you don't look like some lost little kid anymore, at least. He wonders if your souls are truly so intertwined that you would change alongside him, regardless of the distance.

Your eyes flutter open and his breath catches in his throat. You blink at him slowly in the pale moonlight, brows furrowed.

You point at him. Then yourself.

You. Me.

He nods in understanding.

When he drops a plate of protein pancakes in front of you for breakfast, you look confused.

"Oh, sorry. Do you want rice?"

You shake your head. You don't care what's for breakfast, as long as you're sitting across from him while he eats it.

"I'm going to be the world's best midfielder," he tells you one day. You're on the floor and he's on the couch, and it's like time had never even passed.

You don't know what that means, but it's his dream so it must be important. The most important thing in the world.

What you don't know is that it's not his entire dream. World's best midfielder doesn't mean a thing if he can't come home to tell you all about it.

You are dead.

You're a ghost haunting Itoshi Sae— one that followed him from Madrid all the way to Japan. You don't remember how, or when, or why you died. You can't remember what your face looks like either, no matter how much Sae tries to describe it to you. 

You are dead. You're a ghost knocking over Sae's belongings to get his attention when you want it. You're the ghost curled up in bed with him even though he has to wear two layers to stay warm because of it. You're the ghost watching him rotate through different breakfasts that he says could never compare to a good old warm bowl of rice.

You are a ghost, and Itoshi Sae gave you a name. A birthday. A purpose greater than being a loud nuisance.

You are a ghost who likes to watch him light sparklers on his balcony. Who feels the things described only in the books he reads to you. Who learned to love somewhere along the way.

You are dead, and somehow alive at the same time.

(One day, Sae will be brave. One day, he will tell you he loves you. One day, he will thank you for waiting for him at the door when he comes home.)

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[yuri-is-online]

And Your Name Is? (Deuce, Azul, and Floyd)

After successfully resolving whatever was causing NRC to be trapped in an endless time loop of overblotting and disaster, one last reset should give him a chance to experience a normal school year with you. But instead you find yourself trapped in the here and there, appearing as a vague shadow around the school that vanishes as soon as he catches up to you. The kind thing to do would be to allow you to be forgotten in the chance it lets you return to your world.

But this is Twisted Wonderland where the kind thing is seldom done, and he wants you back as much as you want to find him again.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, we are back in business bby, these three are by request, next up are Lilia, Jamil, and Grim! Angst with the intent of comfort, if you like this please consider checking out my masterlist for the previous three parts.

Deuce

"Don't go where I can't follow."

Deuce has said that many times before.  He wonders if you thought he didn't mean it or had taken it as a joke, and truly he cannot decide which is worse. He had foolishly thought when he first woke up and saw the school year begin anew that he could relax knowing he wouldn't need to chase you across an ocean into the depths of S.T.Y.X. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy, his memories of you might have been scattered across time and space but he knew with certainty this set back did not surprise him.

"Are you alright?" Trey's concern does not go unappreciated, but Deuce can't really bring himself to respond out loud. "You seem a bit distracted." There are countless wishing stars hung above him in the trees, he wishes he remembered if any of the wishes he heard had been the same. He knows his no longer is.

"Let him be." Idia surprisingly in the flesh, but still draped like a wet cat over the drums. "We can afford to take a break anyway." His seniors move away as Deuce remains staring up at the wishing stars. Yuu is sort of the same color as them now, and just as ephemeral.

"Do you remember this?" The starsender robes don't feel as special anymore, he wants to be proud that he was really meant for this task seeing how time itself has seen fit to make him repeat it. "I only remembered to ask you what your wish was after... I think you passed it off as me being dumb but I don't think that's what happened now. Somehow I knew if I asked you to make a wish what you would say." A gentle breeze sways the little lights above his head as Deuce tries to spot the star Trey had helped him make. "I meant what I said, I want you to see just how cool I'll look in my officer's uniform. I want to make my mom and grandma proud, and I want you to come home and be proud of me with them." Sometimes he swears he can feel your head leaning on his shoulder, your arms embracing him from behind, your voice carried by the breeze drowning out shouts for him to come back to reality and pay attention to his surroundings. There's a legend in Twisted Wonderland about a man that dives into the Underworld to rescue his beloved, you had told him your world has the same story but it has a different ending. Deuce doesn't want to think about that as his hands curl around where yours should be, just over his rapidly beating heart. "I wish," he already has but he swears the star twinkles with magic in response all the same "for Yuu to come home." He squeezes your hand and jumps when he finds purchase, your weight forcing him to stumble forward and crash as he rapidly tries to turn and see your face.

Idia and Trey make noises of surprise, he thinks that they're talking but he can't seem to hear them above the sound of your heavy breaths. "I'm back Deucey." You whisper softly into the evening air.

"Welcome back Yuu." He hopes you never make him let you go again.

Azul

There is a mournful song flowing through this strange cold place you have found yourself. It's familiar, but you swear you have never heard it before, perhaps it is the voice you find yourself stumbling towards and not the music itself.

"There you are." It's pleased with itself this voice. "Come to spend some time with me again?" You don't know, you can't even really tell where you are. It looks like an office, but it is bereft of papers or any light. You feel more than see the desk at the center, the smooth grain of the wood chills your fingertips as you run along looking for something. A sigh rattles the room as you are dragged away, back to the mirror chamber by frighteningly cold darkness and you grope wildly around for the person you thought had been there with you. "Goodnight Yuu. I will see you tomorrow."

"Why can't you see me today?" You swear you speak but you hear no noise. And in the solid space you've left behind Azul leans back against his chair and studies the ceiling above him. He should be pleased. He had a theory and the tattered scraps of paper in his hand would seem to have proved it. Azul should be angry that your state demands such a sacrifice of him, he should be weighing the potential cost of this decision. Of saving you.

But instead he laughs.

"Yuu. Yuu, Yuu, Yuu. I wonder if I ever stood a chance." He knows the answer of course, but he wonders if it is as ingrained in your soul as it is his. ~~~~ "Do you believe in other worlds Yuu?" The voice is asking you a silly question, and you chase after it determined to tease. "And I don't mean like yours, I mean completely other realities where things even mages would find unbelievable exist." You manage to push yourself through the waters and begin to wander the purple and grey hued halls, desperately searching for someone you swear is here, his name on the tip of your tongue. "I admit it's not something I ever thought too much about, but after we got together the first time I would lie awake thinking about it. You and I meeting was never a guarantee, so why did it feel so much like fate? I think I asked you once."

"Don't underestimate me." You can hear yourself now, and the walls around you are coming into more solid focus. There is only one door between you and the person you have been searching for now. "I will find you in every lifetime." Delighted laughter moves towards you now, as the door opens to reveal the outline of a man, shimmering just like you.

"Yes that's exactly what you said." His hand is cold, you reach to catch it worried it will fall through you and almost sob as you both find the familiar sensation of the other's touch. "And I think I said, 'Well that's not threatening at all!' Because in my mind there was no other way for us to meet than as adversaries, but that didn't need to be true did it?" Azul's coat and scarf is slung over the back of his chair, your breath catches in your throat at the unusual sight of Azul in just his tuxedo. He preens under your attention, guiding you carefully towards the couch, hands trembling in equal relief, excitement, and still small fear that this was all a painful dream. The shredded remnants of carefully counted contracts can remain scattered across the desk behind you, yet he finds himself surprisingly unconcerned. He curls himself around you, sighing in content at the return of the warmth of your solid form. "I found you this time." You return his embrace with a half sob, the memory of the here and there cementing itself within your fears alongside the sheer relief of Azul's presence. "If other worlds do exist, if time gets re-set again, even if you are forced to return to where you came from, please don't underestimate me either. We found each other once, and we will in every timeline we exist." He kisses your hand and dares reality to prove him wrong.

Floyd

"Man every day's a party when I'm with you. I can't get enough!" He had really meant it, but he could see the doubts still flickering behind that smile.

"Glad you had fun Floyd."

Had. You were glad he "had" fun not "was having." It was an odd thing to get caught up on, Floyd didn't fully understand why it soured his mood so much himself. There was always this carefully crafted barrier between the two of you, carefully built up by you that he never noticed until it was too late. Until little shrimpy was just Yuu and the nickname became a facade to deny the depth of his emotions.

It was silly to think that he was the only one lying to himself.

"Y'know you can't stay all ghostie like that forever." He tries to poke you, disappointed in how you shimmery form neither disappears nor wavers. "It's not good for your health." Floyd has never had the smoothest of emotions, they tumble around his chest like waves, but he knows them to be consistent. He hates standing in place and doing the same thing over and over, he loves it when people make stupid mistakes and he gets to watch them blow up (sometimes literally) in their face, and he hates how predictable he has been. The jumbled memory of countless looping timelines and never once did he do anything more than maybe chase you around a little and come up with excuses to monopolize your attention. Floyd wants to squeeze himself, that's what this entire situation already feels like anyway. "Say do you know what humans used to say about merfolk?" His mood twitches back to something like happiness as he rolls his head up from lying on the library table up onto his hands. "They thought that when we died we turned into sea foam cause we didn't have souls. Isn't that silly! Say Yuu, which one of us looks like foam now huh?" Floyd hasn't cried since he was a fry, but these past few days he feels like he has done little but cry and sleep. In his dreams he gets to re-write his impossible memories to be a little lighter, he gets to drop the nickname and call out to you and have you cry out to him in return. In his dreams everyday is still a party and not a waking nightmare. Your hand, or maybe he is delusional and has begun to dream yet again, reaches towards him, fighting its foamy nature to try and touch his head.

"I like you." He had said it into your neck while you died that time, still lying to save himself some face in case that was the last thing you wanted to hear. "C'mon dance with me Yuu!" He had tried hyping himself up in his head, all words dying in his throat when he finally spun you away from Crabby and Mackerel calling you shrimpy once again.

"I love you." Why is he only brave enough to say it now when he swears it won't actually matter? "I think I've loved you since the first time ya tricked Azul and then immediately every time I saw you after. So come back yeah? I thought I had all the time in the world but I don't, and I ain't ever gonna be board of having you around..." The foam flickers, and for a brief delusional moment Floyd thinks he sees your proper face. "You know that, right?"

"I love you too." It's watery, he feels the answer somewhere in his soul rather than hears it as you crash under your own weight back into reality and onto the hard wood of the NRC library. His laughter cackles up and out across the whole school as he leaps across and over to catch you up and soothe your bruises with soft kisses, not at all the activity Jade expects to find him engaged in when he follows rather than flees at the noise.

"Mine." He kisses your pulse point and you wonder, not for the first time but with much more joy than sorrow, why it was his hand you were searching for. "My Yuu." Floyd purrs, a dangerous tittering laugh of genuine relief convincing you of his genuineness more than anything else.

If he was going to get bored of you, he would have done it timelines ago.

[mousedetective]

Please Help A Mostly Queer/Disabled Homeless Family Pay Off Their Debt?

PAYPAL | AMAZON WISHLIST | KOFI | GOFUNDME

VENMO: @penaltywaltz | CASHAPP: $afteriwake23 | ZELLE: DM me for email address

03/05/24

So good news! We're in a 30-day shelter with a caseworker and help from the City of Encinitas Homeless Support Program to get housing with 30 days. It's a brand new shelter and we're all together in a room with the cats, and they're really eager to help get us out of our homeless situation.

Right now, we have about $1000 in money we can save up each month. If we can pay off the debts that my mom owes that she's in credit consolidation for, that frees up another $187 each month. If I can pay off my installment loan, which is four payments totaling $475, that frees up another $124 a month. I think my mom just paid off a credit card debt, but we have $100 debt that I think has gone to collections, $500 we need to pay on a card before that one goes to collections, and $300 for my PayPal 4 in 4 payments. We also have two payday loans I'd like to pay off before they're due at $600.

So if I can cover all that debt this month, we'll have well over $1,500 to put towards a rental payment in May, if we can get help with a security deposit and first month's rent through housing programs. We might be able to afford a two bedroom apartment in Fallbrook with that much. We'd need to come up with money to move our stuff out of storage as well, but a friend of mine has covered the big units until April 1st and may cover them an extra month if needed.

Any help would be amazing. We are so close to getting out of hotels/our car and into something stable. I'm setting the goal at $3000 for now because I don't have wifi at the shelter and can't check exactly how much my mom owes for her debt consolidation still.

But any extra will help with gas to get to places where we can get things we need (birth certificates, Lena's social security card with her dead name, Lena's psych eval, my mom's dental stuff, and doctor/therapy appointments) and food in case the snafu with my food stamps isn't fixed right away (we get three meals here, which is fine for me and Lena, but my mom is basically still on a soft food/liquid diet and they're still needing to get stuff for her and the gentleman here who has no teeth).

Please help if you can, and please reblog as well! We would all greatly appreciate it.

$2500/$5000

EDIT: We found out today that Lena is currently uninsured. The meds she was prescribed for her mood disorder are $1,500 out of pocket. She needs the medication badly. Please help?

[fuwaprince]

👉👈 Hi friends! I have a long, serious post made just for you(!) that isn't full of spoilers, smut or mooning lawn gnomes. Please read if you can, this is a 💥 mutual aid request 💥

It has been a horribly painful and long while as most people following/keeping up with me know. and in a few days I'm going to be down $1500, which is basically all my fucking $

I can't afford Christmas for anybody, which sucks and I'm very sorry. I can't even take care of myself and haven't been, which also sucks and I'm very sorry

Landlords spontaneously raised rent on me more than halfway through this month as punishment for not getting to my house chores and not communicating, to be totally honest with you. I feel ashamed and awful about it but I didn't want to clean the place while multiple ppl living here had tested positive for COVID and kept walking around unmasked... I am not fully vaxxed because I've been too depressed to get any kind of necessary medical care done and I didn't want to catch COVID in the middle of my finals week for the semester. I woke up to being angrily and rudely bitched at first thing after the last of my finals (I passed at least). It wasn't a humanizing text. Fuck the mistreatment though. Rent is now almost doubled and it won't be lowered

There was no room for negotiation and I truly believe they've resorted to pricing me out of living here because the group of renters psychologically tormenting me wasn't effective (actually- putting a picture of my rapist on the fridge rly was super effective in getting me to isolate myself in my room all day and so was outing me as trans to the transphobic ass neighbors.... But I didn't and still don't have any place better to move out to, like the way they were hoping I would. Yes, I have looked and BEGGED btw)

I want out of here NOW, but I can't leave. I tried and had to come back because it was the best option. I can't afford to stay in a motel/hotel/BnB just to get away from them for a day or two during Christmas. I don't have any friends who I can spend the holiday with either. During the semester, I resorted to convincing classmates with keys to locked buildings to let me crash in them while they worked at night and I would leave before anybody showed up. Now that school is out, I can't do that. I don't have any family I can reach out to for support or friends who I can depend on for immediate help. I have been crying day in and day out for weeks. I have records of it posted throughout my blog. Literally crying for days on end. I'm being so fucking transparent

All that lump of text is to explain to whoever is out there, who might be listening and willing and able, to please consider helping me, if and ONLY IF able. I know times are tough and if you'd rather use your $ for other reasons or just don't have any to spare, don't sweat it and take care! 🫂

I've thought about what I could do for a long time and have helped myself how I can. It isn't enough. I've applied for so much assistance. Been approved and been sabotaged by my inhumane mom (who does not love me) via stealing my legal documents and letters and hiding them for months. My mind jumps to grim places but I'm clinging for dear life to whatever hope I have left that says things will get better. I wish I knew somebody with a business that I could work for. Part of me feels so fucking terrible for asking for help because I feel like a waste of all your resources. I feel like I shouldn't ask, like I really do not fucking deserve help, but there are friends online who care, who I know mentioned being interested in helping in whatever ways they can

So to the people who care to seriously me, I'm ready to accept it: please send me nice words to get through this and feel less alone. It feels pathetic to ask but I would love a nice letter. A nice card even. Kind words of any kind would go a long way. It means more to me than food. I have felt so broken and every day feels like a test to figure out how badly I actually want to live

I'm also leaving my cash app and paypal here in case anybody would like to do more than what I'm comfortable asking but probably very likely will inevitably need very very soon. I will be left with fucking nothing and I will have no idea what to do once rent is paid

Thank you to those of you who have sent love, offered to listen and heard me out. I really wish it wasn't so hard to survive. I'm trying to feel better knowing there are people out there who are also without help and hoping the best, but it doesn't make me feel any better or comforted tbh. I just wish the help was there for us. I wish there was a place to go for spare love, care, compassion, empathy, kindness, humanity, generosity... I need that more than I need $. Call me stupid but that's what I live for. I don't live for paying to survive in terrible conditions. I live for love and to smile with friends

I hope to write back to the friends who have already been so kind as to message me soon btw. I'm sorry for not replying sooner. Your overwhelming support is sincerely sweet and sometimes I cry because I can't believe people are so nice (to me???). It'll give me something to do that doesn't make me feel like dying! :') so thank you thank you thank you *fist bump*

Hope you're all doing as well as you can and that somehow things get better. Hope anybody else struggling like me doesn't make the mistake of isolating like a sick and dying animal. You deserve love. You deserve support. Don't be like me. Have the courage to reach out to the people who care about you for help as early on into your emergency as possible. Don't let your situation snowball because you spend so long trying to figure out if you're worth it!!! This Random Tumblr user is here to tell you that YOU ARE. Sending my infinite everlasting unconditional love. Be nice to yourselves. Be nice to each other. Fuck the hateful assholes who wish I would just kill myself already. Tell your friends you love them. Happy Holidays!!!

And here's a single picture of a mooning lawn gnome at the very end, as a treat! I told you this post wasn't full of it.... It just ended with it 👉👉

[x-x-nyctophilia-writes-x-x]

This is a hastily made vent fic

Simon Riley x Reader

(Gender neutral reader, reader does not have gendered pronouns, but does mention having a period)

Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of hospitalization and surgery, mentions of strained familial relationships, mentions of periods

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke slightly startled by the sound of the front door to your apartment opening. Quickly checking your phone you noted the time; 4:37 pm. Simon was finally home from another deployment. You moved to meet him in the living room, but before you could even make it out of bed he was already standing in the bedroom doorway, looking at you with a hint of anxiety in his eyes.

You stared back for a couple moments before offering a weak smile and a quiet welcome home. He let out a sigh like he'd been holding his breath and said “There you are, love. I'd been trying to get ahold of you on my way over here, but you didn't answer. Had me worried.” 

You checked your phone again and this time noticed that he had called and texted you, several times in the last hour. You turned back to him, “I'm so sorry, I was… taking a nap.” 

Simon continued watching you from the doorway, staring like he was analyzing you. You had the blinds closed and curtains drawn shut, leaving your room dim despite the sun still shining bright outside. Simon turned on the ceiling light to get a better look at you, and you flinched. He sighed again as he took you in, this time less relieved. Your hair was a mess, you had dark circles around your eyes, your lips were chapped, and you'd been asleep in your day clothes. He moved toward you and sat at the edge of your bed.

“Lovie, what happened,” he asked, placing the back of his hand against your forehead to check your temperature, “are you sick?”

“No, no! I'm fine! I'm just… Tired.” you said, adding under your breath, “haven't been sleeping well.” You were avoiding looking him in the eye. Simon gently grabbed your hand with one of his, and turned your face toward his with the other. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

It was firm, but not a demand. Suddenly you felt tears prickling at the corners of you eyes. You leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder, and his arms wrapped around you, instinctively, protectively, as you started to fall apart. 

“My dad… He's in the hospital! While you were gone he was diagnosed with cancer. He got rushed into surgery to remove the tumor. In a few weeks he starts chemotherapy. My mom and grandmother have been at each other's throats, arguing about what's best for him, who should take care of him during his recovery. Grandma's even been picking fights with the hospital staff! Even before all that, I got laid off! Something's gone wrong with my insurance, and I haven't had the time to sort it out, so I'm off my meds because now I can't afford them! My period started a week early last month, and I bled through my clothes, and this month it's a week late! I really haven't been sleeping well, my stomach is in knots, so I can hardly eat! And I missed you! I missed you so, so much!”

Simon just sat there with you, rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back while you let it all out. Once you had, he kissed your forehead and said a soft “I missed you too.”

Then he pulled away slightly to look you in the eye, concern evident on his face, but layered with what seemed like a little hurt. “Sweetheart,” he said more firmly again, “why didn't you tell me any of this was going on sooner? I know we didn't have a lot of chances to talk, but everytime I called you said everything was fine. Why'd you lie to me?”

You looked away, shame creeping its way into your chest while you found the words to answer him.

“I just… I didn't want you to worry. Your job is so dangerous, I didn't want you to be distracted by my problems while you were out there fighting.” 

“Your problems? Love, no matter where I am, or what I'm doing, your problems are my problems. I'm your partner, and I'm here for you, even when I'm not with you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a bit of a smirk before he said, “And I'm no amateur. I'm more than good enough to do my job and care about you at the same time.” 

You couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up out of you at his cocky attitude, and he smiled seeing the shell you'd crawled into start to crack a little.

You sighed as you gazed up at him. “I'm sorry, for not being honest with you,” you said. He pulled you into his chest again and kissed your temple. 

“It's alright, I know. And I'm sorry you've had to deal with so much by yourself.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, finally able to enjoy each other's company again after being separated for so long, until Simon began to lift you off of his lap and make his way toward the door again. 

“Where're you going?” 

“Getting my phone, gonna order that dumpling soup you like. While we're waiting for it we're gonna take a bath, and you're gonna tell me everything else I missed out on while I was away. Good, bad. Everything. Get out that scented bubble mixture.”

And with that, he disappeared into the living room, leaving you with a smile on your face as you made your way to the bathroom to run the bath and find the bubble soap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been going through... a lot lately, so I wrote this to cope. Cheers.

[playingcupid-betweenidiots]

Through Her Shadows

Synopsis: Y/N fled her small hometown years ago, haunted by the relentless bullying from the towns popular boy, the one who made her an outcast. When a family pressure brings her back, she's stunned to find that same boy has changed. Seeking redemption, he apologizes and reveals the pain he hid behind his cruelty.

Pairing: Engineer!Jake x Doctor! Reader

Note: This like my second imagine and the first one which is so long, if you want a part two of this then please let me know. I've wanted to start the New Year with something I love to do but haven't done in so long. Requests are open and I will try to get them done in time before exam season (which I might not have a lot of this year)

_________ ♡♡♡♡___________♡♡♡♡__________♡♡♡♡_______

December 2024

"Mom you know I can't get leave at such a short notice.....", I say to my mother on the phone while getting ready for work, "Y/N honey I know but grandma wants to see you, she wants you to come celebrate the holiday with us at least once". I sigh, "mom you know I don't want to come back", I lock my door and head for the bus stop, "honey I know but she wants to see you at least once she says she wants to see you at least once before her times up", I sigh and roll my eyes at my grandmothers dramatics. "I'll see what I can do, you know the hospital doesn't do leave on such short notice", "I know but thank you, I'll make your favorite when you get here", I chuckle, "Thanks mom talk to you later". After hanging up my bus arrived, I sat down and looked out the window.

September 2016

"Move out of my way orphan!", Someone shoves past me, my back hits the wall, "What the fuck!", I say glaring at the person, "Aw is someone mad, why don't you go ask your dad to console you oh oops forgot he doesn't exist for you", the girl laughed in my face. I felt myself growing angry but I knew I couldn't do anything. I can't afford another fight. One more outburst, and I might get expelled, my mother- she can't afford another tarnish to her reputation. I can't do that to her. Not after everything. I sigh and turn around. "Hey nerd, cat got your tongue", I hear the voice of the one who started this all, Jake Sim. This man hated me for no apparent reason, the second I stepped foot into this school he acted like the I was the sole reason of the world being a shitty place. "Don't you have better things to do Sim", "Nah putting someone like you in their place is the most entertaining thing for me so no I don't have better things to do," Jake taunts, his smirk wide and cruel. My stomach twists, but I bite down the anger that bubbles up and turn on my heel and walk away.

April 2017

The hallway buzz with the last-day excitement, but it feels like I'm moving in slow motion. Everyone else is heading to class, packing their things, making plans for the summer, and saying goodbye to our youth. Meanwhile, I feel like I'm just a marking in time, waiting for the bell to ring so I can disappear in the crowd and hopefully be forgotten or be a distant memory. Either way I hope to be a drifting memory like the wind.

The morning after graduation is eerily quiet. The streets are still, the excitement of yesterday already fading into the past. Staring at the suitcase in front of me, half-packed, my hands hover over the clothes inside. I don't move to finish, it doesn't feel real. Graduation was a blur-more like a ceremony I had to get through than something I should've been excited about and how could I be excited, I was finally getting away from the place and people who made my life a living nightmare I couldn't wake up from. Everyone else was celebrating, and I was just.........there. I stand finally forcing myself to finish packing, though part of me was still stuck in yesterday-still stuck in the echoes of his taunts, the heat of anger that I never got to release. But I can't let this tie me down. This town. These people. Him. It's all in the past now.

The suitcase is packed. The door to my room is open. I stand in the doorway, looking back at the life I've come to resent. Everything feels strangely.....mute. The memories of school, of classmates, of fights I never wanted to have-they all blur together, like fading colors in a forgotten painting. I grab my coat, pull it on, and step outside. My mom's car is already idling by the curb, the engine humming softly in the morning silence. Her face drawn, but she says nothing as I get in. She doesn't have to. We both know what today means. "Ready?" she asks, her voice quiet, tentative. I nod, a tightness in my chest that I can't quite explain. "Yeah....ready."

And for the first time, I don't look back.

Present day

I shake my head coming back to reality, there is no good for me to be hung up in the past now. I get off at my stop and head inside the hospital, people greeted me as I walked to the locker room to change into my uniform. Once I am done I head out and to the nurse station. "Chaemin good morning, what's the schedule for today?" I ask as I go over the file of my patients. "Good morning to you too doctor, today you have consultation....." she goes on about my day and I nod.

After a hectic day I sighed feeling happy since my boss allowed me to take leave for the holiday. I get on the bus and call my mom. "Mom I'm coming over for the holidays" I could hear her squeal in excitement, "Oh my goodness I am so happy to hear that I know grandma is going to be so happy." I chuckle and continue to talk to her until I get home and start packing.

Once I got to my parents house I sighed, it's been years since I came back here. I went in and was immediately tackled in a hug. I laughed "Soobin long time", I say to my cousin. "You idiot you haven't come to see us in so long I thought you forgot about us," "how could I when you are so annoying anyone could remember you," he scoffs at my words "as if you are any better", I punch him in the rib "hey!" I exclaim. Soobin scoffs and rolls his eyes, but there's no malice behind it. It feels good to be back in the warmth of family after everything I've been through. It's been so long since I felt this sense of belonging. The house was filled with warmth, laughter, and the sounds of dinner being prepared. I settled in my old room, a bit smaller than I remembered, but it had the same familiar organization-my pens being in a clear box separated in different colors and my books being set to one side. It felt like a time capsule of my younger self.

As the evening unfolded, we ate dinner together, my grandma gushing over how I am finally home for the holidays. Soobin and I bickered like we used to, my aunt chided us both for making too much noise, and my uncle shared stories from his job he got this summer. We all laughed, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel alone. I didn't feel like an outsider. It was just...normal. After dinner, we played a few rounds of different games. Me and Soobin teamed up and though we lost miserably, we had fun. We all laughed, and I couldn't help but feel a warmth that had been missing from my life for far too long.

As the last of the laughter died down and the kitchen light was switched off, I grabbed my jacket and stepped outside, needing a bit of space after a long day of family time. The quiet of the neighborhood wrapped around me, and I started walking aimlessly down the street. I hadn't been back here in so long, and everything felt so different, but somehow, it felt the same. The houses, the trees lining the sidewalks-it all brought back memories I had tucked away for years. There was a kind of peace in the stillness of the night. I kept walking, not really sure where I was going, just needing to clear my head. The night seemed to stretch on, and I lost track of time, the quiet rhythm of my footsteps accompanying my wandering thoughts. But then, just as I rounded the corner, I heard a familiar voice, one I wished not to run into during this trip.

"Well, well......Look who's back." I froze. The voice was unmistakable. Jake Sim. Of course, why wouldn't he show up now? I turned, and there he was, leaning against a lamppost, his usual smirk plastered over his face, but something was different-he wasn't as cocky as usual. His shoulders were a bit slumped, and his gaze didn't quite meet mine at first. "What do you want, Sim Jaeyun?" I asked, my tone neutral, though the resentment I'd felt towards him for so long was still lurking in the background. Jake seemed to hesitate for a moment before pushing himself off the lamppost. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, a gesture I hadn't seen from him before. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by something...apologetic. "I-" he began, stopping himself, his voice softer than I could ever remember and imagine. "Look, I know I've been an asshole. And ... well, I don't know why I've treated you like that. You didn't deserve it."

I blinked, surprised by the shift in his tone. Sim Jake, apologizing? I wasn't sure how to process it, but there was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice now. It felt like he actually mean it. But then I started to get angry. "I guess I've just... had this stupid idea-" "Stop" my voice hiding what I was truly feeling. Jake froze, "What?" "Stop it Jake, you can't... don't do this to me..." For a moment, I just stood there, it was hard to believe that this was the same guy who made my life miserable for so long. But here he was, looking at me with this raw honesty that made me feel nauseous. I crossed my arms, "you hurt me," I said softly, my voice calm but firm. Jake nodded, a quiet acceptance in his eyes. He took a deep breath. "I don't expect you to forgive me right away. Hell, I wouldn't blame you if you never did. But... I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry for being a jerk to you." The sincerity in his apology was like a weight lifting off my chest. It didn't fix everything, and it certainly didn't make up for years of pain, but hearing him say it-hearing him admit that he was wrong-was enough to shift something inside me. It wasn't about forgiveness, not yet anyway. But it was a start.

"Please leave Jake, I want to be alone right now" I said turning away from him. "Y/N..." he was gonna say something but then he stopped, he turned and walked away, his steps slower and more thoughtful than usual. I watched him go, not sure what to make of it all, but something inside me told me this was the beginning of something new-not just for him, but for me too. I continued my walk, my thoughts being a little messed up after the meeting with Jake. I knew the past didn't have to define me anymore.

January 2025

Over the next few weeks, every encounter with Jake felt like another step into a tangled web I wasn’t sure how to navigate. I couldn’t help but notice how different he seemed—his posture, the way his eyes avoided mine as if he feared I might see the truth he wasn’t ready to share. Every time we crossed paths, there was a weight in the air, thick and suffocating, and I couldn’t figure out if it was because of the past, or something else.

The third time I saw him was at the local bookstore. I’d been wandering the aisles, looking for something to distract me from everything that had been swirling in my mind. I didn’t notice him at first, but I heard his voice—the same voice that used to sneer at me in the halls of high school, the same voice that would whisper insults as he passed me by.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with something unrecognizable.

I froze. I didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to face the man who had made my teenage years a living nightmare. But something in his tone stopped me. It wasn’t the arrogant, dismissive Jake I used to know. This time, his words were softer, hesitant.

Slowly, I turned to face him. My eyes met his, and I saw it—the guilt, the regret, the longing. It hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

“Jake,” I said, my voice careful. "What do you want?"

He flinched, as if my words physically hurt him. But when he spoke, there was no trace of the old Jake, the one who had laughed at my expense, the one who’d made me feel small.

“I just... I’ve been trying to find the right words to say,” he started, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his voice trembling with something I couldn’t place. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I have to say it, even if it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

I blinked, trying to make sense of his words. "Forgiveness?" The word felt strange coming from him, so foreign, so different from the boy who once tormented me. "Jake, what are you talking about?"

He took a step closer, then hesitated, as if unsure of how much distance he could close before I would push him away. "I know I hurt you, Y/N. I was awful, and I... I didn’t even realize what I was doing. I was cruel. I—" His voice broke, and I saw a flash of pain cross his face, something raw and real that I had never expected from him. "I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could undo all the times I made you feel worthless. I wish I could make up for the things I did to you."

The words hung in the air, and I could feel the sincerity in his voice. But I couldn’t let myself forget what he had done. Couldn’t let myself forget the way his cruelty had shattered my self-worth, how I had spent years fighting to rebuild the person I used to be.

“You can’t just apologize for all of it and expect everything to be okay, Jake,” I said, my voice trembling despite myself. “What you did... it changed me. I’m not the same person I was before.”

His eyes dropped to the floor, and I saw his chest tighten with a deep breath, as if the weight of his regret was physically painful. “I know. And I don’t expect you to forget it. I don’t even deserve your forgiveness. But I need you to know that I would do anything to make it right. Anything to... to earn back some of the trust I ruined.”

I shook my head, feeling a storm of emotions rising within me. "Why now?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why come to me now, after all these years?"

Jake looked up, his eyes filled with an ache that made my chest tighten. “Because I can’t live with myself knowing what I did to you. I’ve spent so much time trying to push it all down, pretending it didn’t matter, but it does. You do. You always have, even when I was too stupid to see it.”

His words struck me harder than I expected, but the pain from all those years of torment still lingered, still pulsed through my veins. I couldn’t just forgive him because he was sorry now. That wasn’t how it worked.

“Jake,” I started, taking a step back, feeling the distance between us grow. “You can’t fix the past. You can’t undo the damage.”

He stepped closer again, his eyes never leaving mine, and the way he looked at me... it was almost as if he was pleading with me, silently begging me to understand.

“I know I can’t undo it,” he said, voice tight, almost desperate. “But I’m asking for a chance. Not for your forgiveness right now—maybe I don’t deserve it. But I want to show you that I’ve changed. I want you to see that I’m not the same person I was back then. I’m so sorry for everything, Y/N. I can’t take it back, but I can try to be better. For you.”

There was a tremor in his voice, a rawness that made something inside of me ache. For the first time, I saw Jake as he truly was—vulnerable, remorseful, and… yearning. Not just for my forgiveness, but for something deeper. Something more.

And as much as I wanted to push him away, to tell him it was too late, to remind him of everything he had done... part of me couldn’t help but wonder if he meant it. If he really had changed.

“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, my heart pulling in two different directions. “I need time, Jake. I need time to even... understand this.”

His face fell, and for a brief moment, I saw the hope in his eyes die. But then, almost like he couldn’t help it, he stepped closer again, his voice barely audible. “I’ll wait, Y/N. However long it takes. I’ll wait for you. Because I... I don’t know what I’d do if you couldn’t find it in yourself to forgive me. Or... if you couldn’t even... love me again.”

The words hit me like a wave. He hadn’t just come for my forgiveness. He had come because he needed more than that. He needed my love.

But I wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

And as I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but feel the ache of his longing in my chest, too.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i kept my cat a secret, to move into an apartment? I (22M) want to move into an apartment with my cat (7M). I've had him since he was a kitten, I even waited for him while his mama kitty was still pregnant. He's gotten me through some of my worst times, and I'm not giving him away for anything.

I need to move out very soon, but the "pet deposit" for a lot of cat-friendly apartments is like $300, which is fucking insane to me. I can't afford that rn, so I'm planning on moving into a pet friendly place and saying "I might like to get a cat in the future :)". Then, when I can afford it, I'll pay the pet deposit and introduce my cat "officially".

My mom thinks lying is wrong under any circumstance, and believes this is an asshole move. While it is dishonest, I feel like it's kind of necessary in this situation. And charging $1.2k a month for a 1 bedroom is so morally corrupt, it kind of ruins any feelings of guilt i may have had.

But I'll leave it to tumblr to decide: WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

[gingersnapwolves]

previously on "Kouri vs. Her Family", I mentioned that my brother is really irritated at my dad because they all live in the same house and my dad chose to live in a place with kids and dogs and then gets upset when they act like kids and dogs.

probably worth mentioning that

my parents have had dogs and my dad LOVES our dog so if he doesn't like Rex it's because Rex is, you know, a monster

my brother's kids are, uh, a lot

they originally were planning to get a place with a separated in-law apartment but couldn't find one

my brother said something along the lines of "when we planned all this, they were younger" like bruh???? what did you expect to happen? you are an adult man, you should be aware of the passage of time

(wasn't that the entire point??? that you'd have them around to help with the kids and then you'd be able to take care of them once they got old????? if that wasn't the point, what was? just being able to afford a bigger, nicer house with my dad's money??????)

anyhoo

my dad emailed me yesterday with a house listing in the city I live in 😂😂😂 (about 45 minutes away from my brother). no preamble, no context. just a Zillow link and the text "I will explain when I can be assured of privacy"

and because I am a good, dutiful daughter I looked at the link and said I would not recommend that particular house because it's right by a very busy intersection and it's not a great neighborhood, but I found a couple others they might like, if this is indeed for them and not for some OTHER person he knows (my dad knows zero people)

to which he said, "Mom thinks I am overreacting. I am still inclined to move." and now we're meeting for lunch this weekend so I can't WAIT to see how this goes and test out my 'marriage counseling for your aging parents who have the communication skills of toddlers and haven't compromised on anything in 50 years' course

stay tuned!

[annaphoenix1994]

Trying Again

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

Once the ceremony had concluded, Simon had helped eased Kiera into the passenger seat of his car, eager to get her home and enjoy the rest of the evening within the presence of each other before they departed the next morning for the first destination to mark their honeymoon - to which Simon still did not tell her what he had planned. With assurance that Jacob and Evie were taken care of and secured into Eva's vehicle, Simon waited until Eva had driven in front of them on the way back to the ranch. 

"That ring looks good on you, babe." Kiera giggled from the passenger seat, blushing as she physically witnessed Simon's pupils dilate to a thicker diameter once he held his gaze on her, his lips curling into a smirk. 

"Not used to wearing rings, but I'll gladly get used to this one," He chuckled, his right hand reaching for her left, bringing her knuckles up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there. "Didn't think that ring could look more perfect dressed on that pretty finger, love." 

"I still can't believe we just got married," She sighed. "We've waited so long for this and now that it's finally happened... I can't wrap my head around it." 

"Me either, but I'm glad it did," He smirked. "As much as I dread leaving our children behind for our honeymoon, I think it'll be a relief for you to have some time away." 

"It will, but I'm going to miss my babies so much," She frowned. "Mom said she's going to send us constant pictures and videos while we're gone." 

"I'm sure, love," He assured her. "I can't wait to see your reaction once you figure out where we're going." 

"Well, where are we going?"

"That's a surprise. But I will say I accidentally fucked up the flight..."

"What do you mean?" She arched her brow. 

"Well, our first flight was supposed to go towards the east coast, but I somehow scheduled it for Nevada..."

"You're confusing me, Simon."

He smirked, "Let's just say we'll be spending a couple of days in a certain town in southern Nevada first..."

He watched her jaw drop, "Babe, are we... Going to Las Vegas?" 

"Possibly," He smirked. "Just know that I can't afford to be losing my new wife in Sin City. I babysit Johnny enough." 

She giggled, "You can't babysit me if you can't find me..." 

He arched his brow and she giggled, "Trying to make my blood pressure rise already?" 

"Oh, I'm sure you already are getting a rise out of this evening. If you know what I mean..." 

"Don't start anything you can't finish, love." 

"Who said I didn't want it to finish?" 

She smirked as she watched his face flush before he moved to adjust himself behind the steering wheel, clearly desperately trying to hide his pending erection, his mind briefly short-circuiting as he had hoped they were nearly home. Sighing, he gripped the steering wheel tightly before reaching for her hand, hoping to distract himself from intimate thoughts until he were to get home. 

»»-------¤-------««

Without giving her any notice, Simon hastily swept Kiera off of her feet before he began to carry her towards the house, the train of her dress waving in the night air as Kiera giggled into his neck, placing short and teasing kisses along his hot and aroused skin. "All bloody mine," He grumbled. "You got that?" 

"Roger that, Lieutenant." 

He huffed in frustration, closing the door with his foot before rushing himself and his new bride into their bedroom, easily laying her on the bed and gently resting himself between her thighs, caging her between his arms and capturing her lips with his. "Simon." She moaned into his mouth, her core flexing in arousal.

"What is it, love?" 

"I can't believe this - us. We're finally married." 

"Good thought, yeah? How about we finally officiate this marriage?" 

She groaned at his words, running her hands through his neat hair only to ruin it, leaving the residue from his hair gel on her fingers. His hands had slowly began to run up her smooth legs, smirking against her lips when he realized she had been wearing a garter around her thigh after the pads of his fingers swept across it. "What's the order of this thing?"  

He knew. 

He knew what it was for and the tradition behind it, but he wanted to hear her say it as well as add his own twist to it.

"Oh, you know, typical bride attire," She giggled. "Tradition." 

"Is that right?" 

"Mhm. Don't they have that in Manchester?" 

He shrugged playfully, "Don't know. Never been married before. Might have to fill me in on this so-called tradition."

"I'm sure you can figure it out, babe." 

"Oh, so you're not going to tell me?"

"Well, we kinda broke the tradition a little bit..." 

"We've broken several, love." 

She giggled, "Well, you know how I tossed my bouquet during the reception and you refused to take my garter off from under my gown-"

"Because I'm selfish and didn't want anyone to see your legs? Yes." He replied proudly, the pads of his fingers tracing over the garter slowly. 

"You were supposed to take it off from under my gown and toss it to your groomsmen and whoever caught it was supposed to be getting married next-"

"Well," He scoffed, placing a kiss to her collarbone. "We agreed to make our own traditions. I think I know what I want to do with it." 

"Hm? What's that?" She hummed. 

"I think I'd want to rip this off of you with my bloody teeth and display you as my trophy," He didn't give her a chance to reply before he placed a kiss to her lips and lowered his body to where his head was under her gown, placing slow and delicate kisses from the inside of her knee and thigh until his lips fell onto the garter itself, gently grasping it with his teeth before he began to drag it from her thigh, smirking against her skin every time he heard a pretty whimper leave her lips. "And when I do that, nobody's eyes except my own get to lay on you." 

"I'm all yours, Simon." 

"I like hearing you say it." He murmured, proceeding to remove the garter with his teeth and slide it over his wrist before his mouth returned to her inner thighs, proceeding to move upwards under her gown before his lips landed on her sweet core, his hands resting above her gown to run his fingers along the lace fabric. All fucking mine. 

Her fingers were desperate to latch into his hair while her soft moans filled the quiet bedroom. She couldn't get enough of the image of him in his suit all for her. 

Simon's hands splayed across the outside of her thighs, holding them firmly against either side of his head while his tongue lapped through her folds, nearly making her jolt every time he crossed her clit with every slow and determined minute. 

Eventually, she had climaxed on his encouraging tongue, rewarding him for his efforts before he sat up on his knees, looking down at the overstimulated mess of his new bride, smirking at how flushed she already was. He sat back on his knees, admiring the way her dress bunched up at her waist and how her skin flushed, leaving red blotches of adrenaline dressing her chest and cheeks. Smirking, he moved to where he was standing on his feet, walking over to the nightstand to retrieve a condom from the drawer, setting it on top of the nightstand before he removed his dress shirt, tossing it to the side as Kiera moved to sit on her knees on the bed, her perfectly manicured nails curling around the belt of his trousers, her lips pressed against his muscled abdomen while her fingers slowly unbuckled his belt. 

She pumped his erection slowly with one hand, her thumb swiping the small bead of arousal that pooled at his aching head, swearing to herself that she could feel his pulse through his shaft. "On your back, babe." She whispered. 

"Dominant lass, yeah?" He smirked, looking down to admire the doe-like gloss in her eyes. 

"Don't make me ask again."

He couldn't help but smirk at her demand, sincerely loving when she'd get intimately aggressive with him, Kiera being the only person he'd consider being submissive for. He didn't know why, but he loved being bossed around by her - it unlocked a new excitement he never knew he had. "What happens if you do?" 

"Then I guess I'll just satisfy myself." She hummed. 

"Is that right?" He arched his brow, curling his index finger under her chin, forcing her head upward to look up at him. "Those toys of yours don't have the same affect, love." 

"Making yourself feel better, huh?" She giggled, knowing she was pushing his buttons. "On your back." 

"I don't much like being told what to do-"

"Oh, I know, Lieutenant," She hummed, placing a kiss to his chest. "But you're a long way from the barracks, babe. Need I remind you that I technically outranked you if you want to start using terms." 

He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and a tingle traveling through his body, although he still didn't budge. I want to see if she really could make me, but bloody hell, those eyes she's giving me makes me want to fall to my knees and do anything she asked...

"That's what I thought," She giggled after hearing no response from him. "On your back." 

He couldn't help but do as he was told - Kiera being the only person to be able to dominate him. If he were honest, he quite liked being submissive - having her on top of him to her mercy and using him as she pleased. 

He loved it. 

Especially in her wedding dress - the sight alone drove him wild. 

Her dress splayed over him as she straddled his hips, subtly rolling her own hips to grind against his erection. He couldn't help but grasp the fabric of her dress in his hands during his desperate attempt to grasp her hips, leaning his head back against the pillow when he felt himself succumb to her hot core. 

They groaned in unison as his hands firmly held her hips while she slowly slid down on his length, eventually able to fully sheath himself inside of her. 

In roughly three months, the couple had lain together once due to the unfortunate events of the miscarriage in July followed by her father's passing. 

And during that one time, he had begun to use a condom to prevent another pregnancy knowing she had wished to wean from birth control and that he didn't want her to go through another miscarriage. 

It was a decision made by him to use a condom for her sake, knowing the effect hurt her more than it did him.

He knew she had been mentally exhausted - the last thing he wanted for her was to feel like she had an obligation to please him sexually. 

After all, he could care less if she had told him she'd never want to have sex again, knowing that the miscarriage alone was enough to frighten her about the idea of ever getting pregnant again. 

"Fuck!" She hissed, briefly uncomfortable due to the sudden stretch, keeping herself still on him to let her body adjust to his size. 

"Are you alright, love?" 

"Yeah," She nodded, splaying her palms across his chest. "Been too long for us." She admitted, blush staining her cheeks. 

"I'll wait as long as you want me to." He assured her, his hands finally finding the skin of her hips under her dress, gently rubbing circles along her skin with his thumbs. 

Her hips rolled against him, Simon unable to restrict his hips naturally wanting to buck up into her, but he knew she had things in her control when he was under her, completely surrendering himself to her. 

Already overstimulated from his tongue, she had heard herself squelching against him between moans. It was addicting for the pair of them. "You feel so good, love," He admitted, his voice gruff and smooth. "You were bloody made for me." 

She hummed in agreement, leaning her head back to enjoy the sensation he was giving her with just his length alone - his touches and words nearly driving her over the edge every time she felt his skin on hers. 

Suddenly, his forearms hooked under her thighs, effortlessly picking her up off of his length and curling his arms to where her core was level with his face. She braced her hands on the headboard in front of her, tightening her abdomen to keep her full weight from landing on his head. "Simon, I-"

"Don't hold yourself," He warned, his hot breath fanning against her wet folds and making her shiver against him, gasping when she felt his arms tighten around her thighs and pulling her weight down onto his face. "Sit." 

"But I don't want to hurt-"

"-Sit," He said sternly. She was unable to see his threatening gaze by how her dress had spread over his head when he moved her, but she knew that look. "Like a bloody chair." 

"But what if I suffocate you-"

His arms tightened around her thighs and pulled her down onto him, the tip of his nose pressing firmly against her clit, giving her the perfect stimulation while his tongue began to work against her folds, eager to bring her to a second orgasm. He loved when he would bury himself inside of her, but something about pleasing her with his mouth drove him crazy. Like a drug, he would think, musing about how intoxicating her taste was to him. 

He rewarded her with a quickened pace of his tongue when he felt her relax, knowing that gravity was in her favor when she finally realized just how good it felt. And to Simon, the thought made him harder than what he already was - almost painful. 

But he couldn't let up anytime soon. 

She tasted too good. 

Her moans gradually grew louder and louder, her stomach tightening at the sensation of his skilled tongue, goosebumps erecting along her skin when she felt his hands leave her thighs and slide up her back, slowly and delicately unclasping each button that held her dress together, keeping her nude body from him. He knew that if he didn't get that divine dress off of her soon, he'd accidentally end up ruining it. 

Sensing that she was on the brink of her second orgasm, he couldn't help but smirk when he heard a desperate whine leave her lips, knowing it was a punishment for even saying that her toys could get her off faster than he could in a sorry attempt to get him to submit.

With the dress now draping from her shoulders and exposing her breasts, he curled his arms around her waist and gently guided her to lay on her back, placing a hot kiss to her vulva before he guided her to lift her hips to slide the dress from her body, leaving her to be completely nude under him. His hair was now a mess and his chin was glistening with her excitement. Licking his lips clean, he then moved to make a trail of kisses from her hip all the way to her sternum, shooting a quick glance to her before he gave attention to her breasts, expecting her to deny access to them as she was still breastfeeding. Unbeknownst to her, Simon knew that even caressing her nipples were more stimulating than before she was ever pregnant. 

Judging by her sudden moan after he did it, he assumed that she had finally realized.

Especially when she arched her back to press her breasts even closer to his mouth, begging for more than just his hands. "Eager, are we?" 

"You're just teasing me at this point." She giggled playfully. 

"It's what you get for teasing me with the thought of you playing with yourself earlier," He answered, sitting back on his calves to reach for the condom on the nightstand, pinching the corner of the wrapper between his teeth before she stopped him. 

"You won't need that, babe," She spoke, her foot coming up to rest on his hip. "I want to try again." 

"Are you sure?" 

She nodded, "Positive." 

He wanted to ask her what was going through her mind for her to compile her decision, but he didn't want her to think about the reason as to why he had begun wearing condoms in the first place since the miscarriage. "I know we haven't really talked about it prior to the wedding, but-"

"-I love having children with you," He assured her. "I want another one." 

She smiled, "You do? I thought two plus Baler was enough for you." 

"The lad is almost an adult and our two are now a year old. I can't lie to you: I loved seeing you waddle around like a penguin with your belly." 

She laughed as his hands ran up and down her smooth calves, slowly tracing his fingertips to her hot folds, excited at the primal thought of getting her pregnant again, except this time, they were actually trying.

"Best get to it then, babe." She smiled, opening her legs for him when she felt his body lower onto her, their lips locking as his hips lazily pumped against her, teasing her yet again before he snuck his free hand to guide himself into her, the sensation driving him over the edge with her immense warmth and tightness. 

They lay in sensual lust - his hips guiding himself slowly into her as he savored every thrust while she purposely squeezed her walls around him every time he withdrew his hips. His lips were pressed against her neck and jaw while her nails dug into his back, leaving small scratches behind only to encourage another hard thrust from him. "You're so deep," She groaned. 

"I can go deeper," He whispered into her neck.

"H-How?" She asked, surprised. 

He smirked against her jaw before slowly withdrawing from her, "Turn over," He directed, grasping the nearby pillow to place under her abdomen, arching her hips perfectly for the deep angle he was about to let her experience, giving him an unrelenting pace into her G-Spot once he began to thrust. "There you go. Press your thighs together and cross your ankles," He continued, now standing at the edge of the bed, pumping himself lazily as she did as she was told. "I can't lie and say I won't hold myself back from getting rough," He admitted shyly, his head now at her even tighter entrance. "You grip me even tighter like this." 

She began to reply before her mouth opened to a gasp, the hot stretch of his length entering her and pressing against her G-Spot once he fully sheathed himself. "Please get rough, Simon." 

He groaned at her plea, hoping that she knew just how rough he could get. Pressing his palm between her shoulder blades, he did as she requested. 

Relentless, powerful thrusts of his hips snapping into her at a set pace. Each thrust rubbing against her G-Spot, making her toes curl and her back shiver while the pillow under her head collected her loud moans. 

Skin-to-skin contact filled the room along with their moans of pleasure. "Harder." She begged. 

"Are you sure, love?" He whispered, keeping up his pace. "I don't want to hurt you-"

"Harder, Simon," She moaned. "I want you to." 

Bracing one arm next to her head and the other palm between her shoulder blades, his thrusts grew harder and harder, the headboard of the bed now colliding with the wall as the squelching from her core swallowing him drove him wild. He curled his hips downwards every time they snapped, jolting every time he felt the sponge-like flesh of her G-Spot against him. 

Several minutes later, he stilled to release his spend into her, pumping slowly until he too became overstimulated, only keeping up his pace to bring her to her second orgasm before he did. 

With deep breaths, he rewarded her with kisses along the column of her back, slowly withdrawing himself before he helped her move to a comfortable position, smirking at how her mascara pooled at the corners of her eyes before bringing his thumb up to wipe the marks away. 

[jennay]

Honey Bee

Jolly Master List

PART ONE/PART TWO/

You feel your throat tighten, a knot forming as you hold your phone to your ear. You feel your chest constrict, your breaths becoming shallow and ragged. You feel your eyes well up, your vision blurring. You feel your mind racing, your thoughts spinning out of control. The amount of anxiety you felt today was enough to make you leave.

Noah will know how to help you and make you feel better. He gives you honest and practical advice without judging or blaming you. He'll support you, tell you you're not alone, and always be there for you.

You hate that you feel this way, out of place. What a change from yesterday when you fully felt you were where you were supposed to be. You hoped for a different outcome, but now you knew how Jolly felt and were thankful for it, but you also felt shattered. Why couldn't life be kind for just once and let you have what you wanted?

You hear Noah's voice on the other end, but it's not the friendly greeting you hoped for. "It's only been three days, Y/n. Why are you calling me? Shouldn't you be focusing on lover boy?" He jokes. "You must be calling to thank me, right?"

You sigh and roll your eyes at his sarcasm. "Noah, please, this is serious. I need your help."

He laughs and says, "Oh, I see. You want to come back home to me, right, cause you feel bad for leaving me for so long? Well, too bad, honey. I'm taken."

You groan, "Stop it. I know you're not dating anyone, and when I come home, it won't be to YOU because we were never together, dumbass." You giggle, "You've hit full delusion without me there, huh?"

"I mean, I've had a lot of time to myself, and I've spent a lot of it in my room talking to George." He chuckles, "Anyway, what can I do for you, buttercup?"

As you walk through the tiny backyard, you admire the vibrant flowers and herbs that Jolly has grown in his garden. He's away at his mom's place, but you still feel nervous when you speak out loud. It's like you are afraid once the words come out, they will be true, and once you admit it to Noah, there is no turning back.

"I need to come home." You say, biting your lip. "I can't be here another day." You feel yourself choke over your words.

You hear him close the door on his side, and the phone crackles as he moves it closer to his mouth. "What do you mean?" He asks, sounding more concerned now. He clears his throat and lowers his voice, "Did something happen?"

"I can't talk about it at the moment. I already feel like I'm going to puke." You say, sniffing back your tears.

You can tell that Noah is getting anxious. "Did he hurt you?" He asks, his voice hard and furious. "Cause I'll come there, and I'll sort that shit out immediately."

You shake your head, even though he can't see you through the phone. "No, he didn't hurt me. Not physically, anyway." You pause, wondering how to ask him for a favor. You hate to impose on him, but you have no other option. You need to get away from this place as soon as possible. "I was just wondering if maybe you could help me out with the ticket." You whisper, hoping he won't get angry. You know you can't afford a last-minute flight back home.

Noah sighs, "Yeah, I'll see what I can find for today." The line goes silent for a moment, and when Noah speaks again, he's more gentle and kind, "I don't know what happened, but I want you to know it's going to be OK." He sounds sincere and caring, and you feel a sense of gratitude.

You feel your eyes water, but you quickly wipe them away. You don't want to cry in front of him, even if he can't see you. You want to be strong and brave like he always says you are. "I'll talk to you later." You say, trying to sound cheerful. You hang up the phone and take a deep breath. You hope he can find a ticket for you. You could really use a Noah hug about now.

Jolly sank into the recliner, facing his mom on the couch. He couldn't look at her; he felt too embarrassed and conflicted. He kept replaying the events of last night in his head, wondering if you hated him. He knew you were hurt; you barely said a word to him for the rest of the night. He saw you lying on the couch, pretending to be asleep, but he could see your eyes flickering and your body tensing.

He wanted to tell you how much he wished things were different. He wanted to kiss you and make you feel loved and be your hero and protector, but he thought he had no right to do that. He felt like he was trespassing on something that belonged to Noah.

He thought he should back off and let you sort things out with your best friend. He couldn't shake the feeling that you had hidden feelings for Noah, even though you denied it.

You and Noah seemed perfect for each other. You had known each other for so long, had your own jokes and secrets, and shared many interests. You spent a lot of time together, and Jolly knew when you did stay the night at their place, you were always in Noah's room. He couldn't help but imagine what you did behind closed doors.

"Joakim," His mother says, breaking the silence. "Is this about that girl?" She asks, noticing his gloomy mood.

He doesn't look up, afraid of what he'll see in his mother's eyes. He knows she's worried about him, but he doesn't want to disappoint her. He continues staring at the floor and nods slightly, "I should have listened to her and kissed her. I think I ruined everything." He leans forward, resting his face in his hands, and sighs.

"Tell me what happened." She urges, moving closer to him on the couch. He sits up and crosses one leg over the other, finally meeting his mother's matching irises. "I messed it up." He groans. "We had this fun day, and at the end of the night, she leaned in for a kiss, and I turned her down."

She nods, listening, "Why, I thought you liked this one?"

He shrugs. "I do. I have, for a long time."

"What is the problem? Did you forget to tell me she was married or unavailable?" She asks, growing concerned that her son has fallen into a trap.

Jolly shakes his head, "I think she has feelings for Noah, and Noah has feelings for her, but they won't admit it." He tells her, feeling the pain crushing him all over again.

"Joakim Oskar Patrik Karlsson, I love you, but you're not very bright sometimes." She laughs, "She came all this way to see you. She wanted you to kiss her. Isn't that enough evidence?"

Jolly's eyes widen, "But Noah-"

"What about Noah? She said she doesn't have feelings for Noah. You need to believe her, and if this is what you want, why aren't you going after it?" She sighs, growing slightly frustrated, "Men." She mutters. "I raised you better than this." She stands up, walks to the front door, and opens it. "Get out."

Jolly looks at his mother with confusion, "What?" He stands up, "You're kicking me out?"

"Go talk to her. Tell her everything because if you don't, she will move on, and there will be others, and you will regret this forever." She was right; he needed to tell you before it was too late.

He kisses his mom on the cheek as he exits the cozy house. He feels nervousness and excitement; he'll do it. He needed to tell you everything: how he thought about you, dreamed of you, and wanted to be with you. He rehearses what he will say but knows words are not enough. He needs to show you how he feels.

Jolly clenches the steering wheel as he drives to his house, his heart pounding in his chest. He dials Noah's number, hoping to hear his voice and clear the air. He doesn't want to lose his best friend over this. He wants to explain himself, to apologize, to make things right. But when he calls, the phone rings once and goes straight to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again but gets the same result.

Anxiety washes over him. He wonders why Noah is ignoring him, and then a horrible thought crosses his mind. You must've called Noah first.

"Fuck." He curses under his breath.

This was going to be the worst drive home ever.

He pulls into his driveway and parks the car, but he doesn't get out right away. His chest tightens when he thinks about facing you. He doesn't know what to say to you, but he hopes his feelings will show through. Jolly finally gets out of the car and walks up the driveway. He takes a deep breath and reaches for the door handle, calling out your name as he opens the door. But he stops when he sees you walking toward him with your bags packed. He feels a jolt of shock and pain as he looks at you, his eyes wide and incredulous. He can't move, he can't speak, and he can't breathe. He stares at you as you approach him, dragging your luggage behind you.

The sound of your bag hitting the ground jolts him out of his trance. "What's going on? Where are you going?" He asks, his voice cracking with emotion. He tries to catch your eye, but you avoid his gaze.

You avert your eyes from him and clamp your mouth shut, suppressing the sob that wants to break free. You wish you had left before he came back.

"Something came up at work, and I need to go home." You lie, hoping he won't hear the quiver in your voice. He knows you too well; he knows you're lying.

"Oh," he says softly, knowing at this moment there was nothing he could do to make you stay. "Let me at least take you to the airport…"

You shake your head and adjust your backpack on your shoulder. You pull out your phone and glance at the screen, "My cab's here." You say, feeling guilt in your chest. You see the pain in his face, and it breaks your heart.

"You were going to leave without saying goodbye?" He asks, his voice barely audible.

You bite your lip and look around the room, trying to find something else to focus on—anything but him: anything but the memories you've made here. "I'm sorry, Jolly. I have to go." You say, walking past him.

He grabs your arm and hugs you tightly, holding you close.

He wants to tell you how he feels. He wants to beg you to stay. He wants to kiss you and make you forget everything else. But he can't. He loves you too much to be selfish and force you to stay. He has to let you go and hope that the two of you will reunite and things will be different.

"Be safe, Honey Bee." He whispers in your ear, then gently pulls back, looking into your eyes. He sees the tears that are about to fall. He wipes them away with his thumb. He tries to smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

You nod your head and pick up your bags, "OK." You whisper, leaving him in the doorway as you drag your bags to the cab. You look back at him one last time and see him standing there, watching you go. You feel a surge of emotion and want to run back to him, but you know you can't. You get in the cab and close the door, feeling the finality of your decision. You drive away, leaving him behind.

He lets out a soft sigh, feeling disappointed and empty. He enters his room and sits on the bed, his heart heavy with regret. He kicks off his shoes, hoping a nap will help him forget the pain. But as he looks around the room, his eyes fall on the bedside table, and he sees it: the ring he bought you, a black band with your favorite stone in the center, sitting there, mocking him. He grabs it, holds it in his hand, and tilts it back and forth, remembering how happy you were to receive it, the smile on your face, the joy in your eyes, and your sweet smile. He feels the cold metal against his skin and wonders if you were intentionally hurting him as a form of payback. He shakes his head, not sure of how he feels. He sets the ring back on the table and lays down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He feels so angry, knowing that this could've been prevented if he just would've kissed you. His heart aches with longing, and he wishes he could turn back time and make things right. But it's too late now, and all he can do is lie alone with his thoughts and regrets. He hears the clock ticking on the wall and counts the seconds, hoping they will pass faster. He closes his eyes, trying to block out the image of you walking away from him. He wonders if you'll ever forgive him, and he wonders if he'll have to watch you fall for someone else or if there is still hope for him when he returns home.

When you arrive at the airport, Noah greets you warmly and offers to help you with your bags. "You doing OK?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. He sees the sadness and exhaustion on your face, and he knows you've been through a lot.

You nod, "Yeah, just wanna get home." You say, forcing a smile. You don't feel like talking; you just want to forget everything that happened. Noah nods in understanding and leads you out of the airport, where his car is waiting. As you walk, Noah glances over to see you staring at the ground. It's dark and cold, and you haven't yet asked him for his jacket, which surprised him. He knows you're always cold and usually lends you his jacket whenever you're together.

"Hey," he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. He tries to comfort you, to make you feel better. "You wanna talk about what happened?" He asks, hoping you'll open up to him. He wants to know what went wrong, what Jolly did or said to make you leave so suddenly. He wants to help you, to be there for you.

You feel a pit in your stomach as you think of the events of the last three days. You shrug your shoulders and nudge Noah's arm off you. You open the car door, still remaining silent. You're confused and angry.

Noah starts the engine, his lips pressed together as he watches you stare out the window. He feels like he's partly to blame for what happened. He was the one who encouraged you to go see Jolly, to confess your feelings, to take a chance.

"I'm sorry things didn't go how we thought they would," he says, his voice heavy with sorrow. He watches the road, purposefully missing the turn to keep you in the car a little longer. He wants to spend more time with you, to make you laugh and forget.

"Noah…" You groan. "I don't want to think about it anymore. Jolly made his choice, and now I need to move on." You lean your head on the window and watch as the rain droplets slide down the glass. You feel like they're a reflection of your tears and pain. You wish you could wash away everything that happened, everything that didn't happen and will never happen. "Please stop missing turns. I know it doesn't take this long to get home." You say, feeling impatient and restless. You want to get out of the car, out of this conversation, out of this mess.

Noah's grip tightens on the steering wheel, not out of frustration but worry. He sees the tears in your eyes and the pain on your face. "You wanna stay the night with me? We can watch a movie, and I'm sure George would love to snuggle you." He suggests, hoping you'll agree.

You shake your head again, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together. You don't want to stay with Noah, you don't want to watch a movie, you don't want to snuggle George. You just want to go home, to your own bed, to your own space, to your own misery. "I'll get him in the morning, Noah. I just really want to go home." You say, growing frustrated. You hate to sound ungrateful, but you can't stand being around anyone now. You just want to be alone.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, and it's not until you reach your apartment that you remember Noah has a key to your door.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face him. "Give me your key." You say, holding out your hand. You don't want him to have access to your place, check up on you, or bother you. You want to cut him off, at least for tonight.

Noah looks at you, shocked. "What?" He asks, "No." He says with wide eyes, "You said it's for an emergency, and right now, I'm worried you might have an emergency." He's afraid of what you might do. He cares about you more than you know, and he can't stand the idea of losing you, even if it's only mentally.

You stare at him with disbelief, "Noah, give me the fucking key. I just want to sleep peacefully without you annoying me because you're worried." You snap, losing your patience. You don't care about his feelings, and you don't care about his fears.

Noah can't believe you're pushing him away like this after everything you've been through together. He clenches his jaw and pulls his keys out of the ignition. He grabs the key and drops it in your hand. "Fine. Take it...just promise you'll come get George in the morning."

You force a smile and get out of the car. Noah pops the trunk, and you grab your bags, avoiding his gaze as you walk into your apartment.

You feel a twinge of guilt for how you treated Noah, but you can't help it. You're angry at him for making you believe that Jolly had feelings for you when he clearly didn't.

You drop your bags by your door and head to your bedroom, passing by one of the pictures you cherished of you and Jolly. You push your fingers under the frame and knock it off the wall, letting it fall to the floor. You hear the glass shatter and glance at the broken edge, feeling pain in your chest.

You stare at the photo of you and Jolly, your faces glowing with happiness. It was from the Fourth of July, the night you celebrated with fireworks and laughter. Noah was your photographer, capturing every moment with his phone. He teased you for being too scared to light anything but sparklers, but Jolly didn't mind. He thought you were adorable and joined you with his own sparkler. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple as the sparks flew around you. It was a perfect night, and you felt nothing could go wrong.

You shake the thoughts as you walk away, not bothering to clean it up.

Reaching your room, you strip out of your clothes and turn off the light. You crawl into bed and reach for your phone, squinting at the bright screen.

You see a text message from Jolly. Did you make it back safe?

You sigh and turn off your phone. You don't want to talk to him. You toss your phone aside and lie on your back, staring at the ceiling, feeling lost and confused. You can't believe you fell for Jolly after holding him at arm's length for so long; you should've trusted your instincts. How did you miss the clues that he was only being nice to you? Maybe you missed the friendly signals because of how he held you the other night in his bed, making you feel safe and serene, or was it how he would wrap his arms around your waist or rest his hands on your hips when he spoke to you? Or maybe it was the ring he gave you, telling you he wanted you to think of him whenever you glanced at it.

You roll on your side and pull the blanket over your head, muffling your sobs. You hate feeling this way. You wish you could erase him from your mind, but you know you can't. He's a part of you, and you can't let him go. You close your eyes and drift into a restless sleep, dreaming of what could have been.

Part four

Tags: @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm

@somewhere-diamond @cookiesupplier