#anyways I want to try to talk to him more but but I’m not good at that

[kinardsevan]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

i don't know that i'm satisfied with how this ends, but the stills got me thinking more about the idea of Maddie being the one who tells Buck that he needs to call Tommy, and then I was already working on a coffee date recreation, so have this:

-

Maddie looks at the loaves of bread spread out on the counter and then back up at her brother, tilting her head to the side. 

“Evan. I thought you said you were doing okay,” she states, leaning up at against the counter next to her husband. 

“I am,” he insists. 

“So why are there four loaves of bread on the counter,” Chimney asks, confused. “That seems like you’re overloading your schedule to occupy your time.” 

“I’m not,” Evan counters, looking back and forth between them. They both stare back at him skeptically. 

“Dude, come on,” Chimney insists. “I know that sweater you had on the other night was one of Tommy’s. Between that, the lack of shaving, and now the abundance of food-..”

“I’m dealing,” Evan insists. Maddie sighs, looking over at her husband. He raises his hands and picks up his wine glass before glancing between them. 

“I’m gonna go see what’s on the sports channel,” he states before walking out of the room and into the living room. Maddie moves closer to Evan, rounding the counter. 

“I’m fine,” he repeats, but when Maddie looks up at him with that face—the one that tells him she isn’t buying the shit he’s selling—he sighs and shakes is head. “I mean I should be, shouldn’t I? It’s not like we were together that long.” 

“Six months,” Maddie states. 

Evan nods. “Yeah, and? I mean I was with Taylor for longer. She actually moved in here.” 

Maddie stares at him for a moment and then furrows her brow at him. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing,” Evan insists. “It doesn’t mean anything when Tommy doesn’t think I’d stay with him anyway.” 

“No, no, it clearly means something,” Maddie counters. “I’m not letting you drop it that easily. Talk to me. Tell me what actually happened.” 

Evan huffs, leaning against the counter. 

“We were talking about Abby, and I was telling him how that relationship had been transformative for me, at least until I met him, a-and then I told him that I wanted him to move in with me.” 

“Okay,” Maddie replies, processing his words. “And you told him you love him, right?” 

Evan stares at her as though she’s gone Blue Screen on him and she bobs her head forward, gaping at him slightly. 

“Evan.” She comments. “You told him how you feel, right?” 

“I- I thought- I mean we-..” 

“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t fake that I’m not paying attention this long,” Chimney states as he crosses back into the kitchen. “You asked Tommy to move in with you without telling him how you feel about him?” 

“I told him I admire him,” Evan argues. 

Maddie inhales a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to remain composed as she returns to Chimney’s side. “What exactly did you say to him?” 

Evan gulps, but then proceeds to explain to both Maddie and Chimney was he said, trying his best not to paraphrase. By the time he’s finished, Maddie and Chimney are looking at each other, both of their jaws slack. 

After a moment, Chimney turns back toward his glass of wine and picks it up and takes a long sip from it. 

“Yeah, I think I might’ve broken up with you too,” Chimney states when he sets the glass back down. 

“What the hell,” Evan counters, waving a hand out at him. 

“Look, Buck, you ran over him like the proverbial steam roller. And I’m sorry, but from the way it sounds, it comes across as being told that you want to live with him because he’s great at being gay and that makes you feel good,” Maddie explains. 

“Not to mention the Brandon of it all,” Chimney mutters, lifting his drink to take another sip. He raises an eyebrow when both Buckley siblings turn toward him. 

“The who?” “Huh?” 

Chimney takes a deep breath, mouthing an ‘oh’ before setting his glass back down. “This is why I’m not allowed to know things,” he mutters. He shakes his head. “Brandon was this kid Tommy dated around the time he was leaving the 118.” 

“I thought he wasn’t out yet,” Evan interjects. 

“He wasn’t,” Chimney answers with a nod. “But Brandon was this kid out of another house, one of the ones Tommy had looked at transferring to, I think. Anyway, you could tell after Gerrard and Sal were gone that he was loosening up and becoming more comfortable with himself, and even though he wasn’t quite there yet, he was getting there.” 

“So?” Evan asks. 

“So, three months into it, he tells me over beers that the guy wants to move in together, make all these plans for the future, is talking about buying a house. The whole nine yards. But Brandon was just coming out of a divorce, with a woman. Sold Tommy the moon, and T went for it. Gave up the place he was in, moved in with this guy into his apartment that he also was sharing with his two kids part-time.” 

Evan gulps, because he can see the writing on the wall. 

“See, Brandon hadn’t been with other men before. And they lasted about three months longer before Tommy found out that he was seeing other people. He alternated between mine and Sal’s couch for a month after that until he got the place he’s in now.” 

“He was in love with him,” Evan surmises in a rasp. 

“He thought he’d found the person he was supposed to be with,” Chimney says with a nod. “And when I tell you it took him years to get over that-..” 

“Fuck,” Evan mutters under his breath, leaning more against the island. 

Maddie waits a moment, glancing back and forth between her brother and her husband before she finally speaks up again. 

“So to be clear, I understand why Tommy panicked and took off, but why would you skip over actually telling him how you feel,” she asks. “I mean you have to get that that’s important. It probably would’ve made a massive difference in the conversation.” 

Evan inhales a deep breath and shakes his head, looking down at the counter. 

“Oh,” Maddie states. “You’re scared too.” 

He looks back up at her, his expression somber. “I mean people leave me. A-and that’s exactly what he did.” 

“Buck,” she coaxes, rounding the counter again. She runs her hand up his back as her other hand curls around the inside of his bicep. “You can’t be mad at him for being scared if you can’t also be honest about how you’re feeling.” 

He glances up at her, and his eyes are so sad that it makes her want to go into her mothering role and order him to call Tommy. 

“What if he won’t listen to me,” he rasps. She leans against his shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look. 

“I mean, I’ve never heard you even mention wanting to marry someone else,” she replies softly. “That’s gotta be worth something, right?” 

Evan stares down at the counter again. 

“You should call him,” Chimney interjects, when they look back up at him, he’s taking another sip of his wine. Maddie just chuckles at him before squeezing Evan’s arm and nodding. She leans up and kisses his cheek. 

“Call him.” 

. . . 

Evan pulls his jacket tighter around his body as he settles into the cafe chair. He’s not entirely sure Tommy will show, even though the other man had texted he would. He can’t help but feel the weight that’s been making it’s home in his chest just a little heavier right now. A week ago, they were celebrating six months from that first kiss, and somehow he’s finding himself sitting at a different café, but still, six months from the day that he’d asked Tommy to be his date to his sister’s wedding. 

So much is different now, though. He didn’t have to guess Tommy’s coffee order because he knows it by heart. There’s a box in his car filled with belongings that he really doesn’t want to give back, but if this discussion doesn’t go in the right direction, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. 

Still, he can’t stop thinking about the guy on the crane from the day before, and how after they’d gotten him off to the hospital, all Evan could think about was how his people had banded around him in the aftermath. His team had kept him alive, and then they’d remained vigilant at his side while he healed. He’d had people show up in his corner every step of the way. It’s not lost on him now that Tommy has faced a life primarily without that same feeling, and that unlike him, Tommy didn’t find a forged family at work. Plus, then there’s the information he learned about the ex-boyfriend, and all of it has him seeing Tommy in an entirely different lens. 

“Hey.” Tommy’s voice is raspier, sadder than the last time he heard it as he comes around the corner of the building. Evan still perks up at the sight of him, although he’s more subdued than the last time they met up like this. 

“Hey,” he replies softly, gesturing toward the chair across from him. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.” 

Tommy nods, and there’s a rush of pain in Evan’s chest at the lack of of course. 

“I got you a coffee,” he adds, gesturing towards it on the table. Tommy pulls his chair out and sits down. 

“Thanks,” he says, though there’s no mirth in his tone like there was that first time.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Evan states nervously as Tommy takes a sip of the drink. There’s the slightest twitch around his mouth—one the younger man has come to recognize as Tommy thinking that it tastes right. He’s very particular on his flavor and cream-to-sugar ratio, so knowing he’s still getting right gives Evan a flush of pride. “The last time we met like this, I said there was a lot of that we didn’t know about each other.” 

“Practically everything,” Tommy parrots so softly, it barely has any vocal tone in it. Evan nods. 

“Except, I do know things about you now,” Evan counters. “I know- I know that you don’t like to be awake before seven AM if you’re not on shift. I know that you think the perfect setting for the thermostat is always sixty-six, no matter what time of year it is. I know that you take three creamers and the tiniest dash of cinnamon in your coffee.” 

“Buck-..” 

“Let me finish,” Evan counters, cringing at the way that name sounds coming out of Tommy’s mouth. He takes a deep breath and looks around them before continuing. “I know your mom died when you were six, and your dad blamed you for it. I know you spent the next eleven years trying to do anything you could to keep him appeased and a target off your back, including stuffing down who you are so far down that it took you over a decade to crawl back out of that toxic mindset. And I know that all of that left you with scars, even though you don’t talk about them. I know-…I know that you would rather run because it’s easier to protect yourself than sign up for the possibility of getting hurt again.” Evan pauses and gulps as Tommy stares at him, looking very uncomfortable. 

“So I need to apologize,” he says with a breath. 

Tommy furrows his brow at him, baffled by the statement. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“Yes, Tommy, I do,” Evan counters, this time more insistent than he had been on that first coffee date.“I  threw a lot at you that night. I- I know that I told you I wanted to move in together, and that I was talking about a future without any practicality behind it because I just lept with both feet like I always do.” 

“I didn’t call things off because of your impulsivity,” Tommy counters. “I did it because-..” 

“Because you’ve been down that road before,” Evan finishes for him. “And it ended badly. I know that about you, too. And, the way I sounded that night…it wasn’t what I should’ve said.” 

“Okay?” Tommy acquiesces. 

Evan takes another breath and leans forward in his seat, gesturing at the space between them. “You said that when I asked you to move in with me, that I was still figuring myself out, and that everything was still new and exciting for me. And the thing is, you’re right, and you’re wrong. You’re right that things are new and exciting, but not because they’re with a man; it’s because they’re with you. And six months ago when I told you that I didn’t know what I was ready for, that was true, but now I do. It’s not about being ready for something different, Tommy, it’s about being ready for something different with you. S-so when I say I lept with both feet the other night without thinking, I missed a step in there.” 

Tommy stares at him apprehensively, giving him the space to continue. Evan sits up a little straighter. 

“I got so caught up in the process of commenting on the ways things have changed and all that you’ve done to get yourself to where you are now that I never stopped to consider how it would sound coming out of my mouth. A-and part of that was because I thought if I just convinced you to stay with me, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad if you decided that I was too much.” 

Tommy leans back in his seat, eyes widening slightly at Evan’s words. 

“I um, I know about Brandon,” he states. “And on the subject of exes, I never told you about Taylor, or how Lucy played into of how things ended with her.” He inhales a breath and then proceeds to explain Lucy’s time at the 118, their shared kiss, and how he’d been living with Taylor at the time. “And the thing is, when I moved in with her and told her I loved her, it was from a selfish place, o-of wanting to keep her around because people just kept leaving, and I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else.” 

Tommy lets out a soft sigh and leans forward. “Evan.” 

Evan shakes his head. “No. Don’t- it’s not- I’m not saying all of that because I’m chasing after you to keep you from leaving. I- I mean I am, but not like that. I mean to say that, I trapped Taylor, however unintentionally, with the idea that if she was with me, that I could make it work. Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn’t keep trying to make the pieces fit, and we split up.” 

Tommy nods. 

“But this isn’t that,” Evan continues. “This has never been that. I asked you to move in with me because I want to be with you day and night. B-because I see a future with you, and because nothing has ever felt as right as this has felt. And I understand that maybe- no, it was moving too fast. And that I skipped right over the part where I should’ve told you that I want to be with you not because it feels good or because I think you being gay makes me better at being bisexual, or anything like that. I want to be with you because I’m in love with you.” 

Tommy takes a deep breath at his statement. 

“I don’t expect you to say it back if you’re not there, a-and I don’t expect you to move in with me. That was an impulsive decision. But I’m not in a place where I’m ready to give up on this,” he states. “I love you enough that I’m willing to go at your pace this time.” 

Tommy stares at him for a beat, quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Am I sure that I love you?” Evan counters. “That I’m pretty positive on.” 

The response forces a small smile onto Tommy’s face. After a breath, he gives a small nod. 

“Okay.” 

“Yeah?” Evan asks him. 

Tommy gulps and nods. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Because I love you, too.” 

Evan grins at him, at this time, it’s Tommy who reaches across the table and grabs his hand, squeezing it. 

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter four

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a confession, a second first date, and the start of something special. (4.8k)

a/n: happy birthday landooo!!! my gift to him is a girlfriend 🙂‍↕️

previous chapter | masterlist

A loud clang from the kitchen startles you from your sleep, blinking awake to a still dark room.

Your head throbs a little bit, but the headache isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. It’s easy to ignore, especially since your mind is occupied by the snoring boy sprawled out under you. 

Lando’s fast asleep on his back, one arm slung over your torso loosely while the other hangs off the end of the sofa above his head, legs tangled with yours. You don’t remember cuddling up like this during the night, but you’re not complaining. He’s warm and comfy, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest soothing. 

You almost don’t want to get up, but your curiosity about the noises coming from the kitchen wins out in the end. Very carefully, you wiggle out from under his arm, peeling yourself away from him as slow as you can so as to not wake him. 

Once you’ve successfully extracted yourself, you can’t help but drop a kiss to Lando’s forehead before you go, pushing his curls away from his browline to do so. He lets out a little sigh, rolls onto his side, but remains deep in slumber as you pad out of the room. 

The ruckus turns out to be Camille puttering around the kitchen making coffee—an essential hangover cure.

“Sorry, sorry, I was trying to be quiet. Did I wake you?” She hisses, cringing. You wave an absentminded hand, stifling a yawn as you plant yourself on a stool at the counter.

She slides a mug of coffee towards you and you gladly accept, leaning over the steam wafting from the piping hot drink. It’s taking all of your willpower not to gulp it all down in one go and burn your throat. 

Camille lets you sip and sit as you attempt to wake yourself up a little more, but you can tell she’s dying to say something. You sigh. “Say what you wanna say.”

“Oh thank god. I hate you for making me wait more than five seconds, but whatever. Anyways, Lando stayed over last night?”

“Mhm, yeah. He did.” You bob your head noncommittally, staring hard at the dark liquid in your cup. Despite your laser focus, you can still feel Camille’s eyes boring into the top of your head, and when you finally do look up at her, she’s looking at you very pointedly. “What? We talked for a bit, and then we fell asleep.” 

“And that’s all that happened?” 

“Uh…” Your voice goes higher pitched than necessary, one eye squinting shut. You want to tell her everything, but you haven’t had the chance to speak with Lando yet. You’re not sure what “everything” entails yet.

Lando shuffles into the kitchen right at that moment, rubbing furiously at his eye with one hand while the other scratches at his stomach aimlessly. He extends his arms high over his head in a loud yawn and stretch combo, in doing so revealing a strip of tanned torso that has you nearly choking on your sip of coffee. 

That earns you two confused, yet amused looks, for wildly different reasons. 

“Hot.” You say lamely, in a very poor explanation. Lando’s expression turns slightly smug. “The coffee. Burned my tongue.” 

“Morning, sunshine!” Camille chirps happily. Knowingly. She beams at Lando and it stops him in his tracks, blinking unsurely at her chipper form like he’s hallucinating instead of responding. “Cool, just stare at me like I’m an alien.” 

“Sorry, I just—how are you not hungover right now? You could barely walk straight last night,” He asks incredulously. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She hums, winking at him. 

Lando pulls himself onto the stool next to yours with a groan, but doesn’t hesitate to give you the best smile he can muster in greeting. “Morning. How’d you sleep?” 

“Good,” You say softly, wrapping your hands around the mug in front of you. “You?” 

“Really good. Best sleep I’ve had in months, actually.” 

“On a shitty couch with no back support? Interesting.” 

Lando checks to see that Camille isn’t paying any attention before he responds. “Maybe it was the company.” 

You feel your cheeks blaze hot under his intense gaze, but you can’t bring yourself to break eye contact with him. You still need to address what happened last night. It’s still something you haven’t quite wrapped your head around yet, and you feel the need to stall so you can gather your thoughts some more. 

“Coffee’s fresh on, if you want some,” You blurt. 

Lando takes your reaction in stride, as if he senses you need time. “Oh, that sounds amazing right now.” 

Instead of going to pour himself his own cup, he eases yours out of your hands and takes a hefty sip from it in one fell swoop, before you can even tell him it’s just coffee. He doesn’t like plain black coffee. Then he shudders, face scrunching up in adorable disgust. “Blegh. Needs milk. Sugar, too.” 

“That’s because it’s mine, and I happen to think it’s just fine the way it is, thank you very much.” 

“You don’t wanna share?” 

Your nose crinkles in the same way his had a few moments ago. “Not if you’re going to dump a fuckton of sugar in it.”

“Not a fuckton! Just a spoon or two. Maybe three.” 

“Get your own, Norris.” You roll your eyes playfully, and Lando cocks his head in challenge, lifts your mug back to his lips for another long sip, this time obnoxiously loud. Paired with the adorable crooked troublemaker’s grin, you have to fight the need to kiss him again. 

You want to, but you can’t. Not yet. 

Samira and Maren trudge in a little while later, looking much worse for wear than you all. Neither of them even have it in her to reply to any of your good morning’s, only to make it over to pour themselves a generous mugs of coffee. 

“See, that’s what I thought you lot would be like right now,” Lando says, waving a hand at your two zombies of friends. “That’s what normal people are like after hitting up four bars in a night, you psychopaths.”

“If my head wasn’t pounding right now, I’d punch you in your pretty boy face,” Samira grumbles, glaring at him through bleary eyes. “What’re you even doing here, anyways?” 

“Who d’you think brought you all home last night?” 

“Then why do I remember Max doing a horrible rendition of We Belong Together by Mariah Carey?” Maren groans, face screwing up in confusion. 

In perfect timing, you hear the front door open, and then Max’s booming voice.

“Your savior has arrived!” He saunters into view with his hands behind his back, as if he’s hiding something behind him. The closer he gets, the more you can smell something mouthwatering wafting from whatever he’s just brought. 

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, I guess,” Camille chuckles. 

Max juts his lower lip out, smacking one hand over his heart. “Aw, you guys were talking about me? All good things, I hope.” 

“Always, mate,” Lando assures him, but not without shooting you a cheeky wink as soon as his friend turns away. 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Samira grits out, glaring at no one in particular. “You’re all being way too loud right now.” 

“Guess that means you don’t want the food I brought?” 

“...What is it?” 

“Sugar and carbs.” 

“Hand over the box right now and you’re forgiven.”

The four of them get into some other conversation quickly after that, giving Lando the privacy to lean over towards you, lips nearly ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Think we can slip out and have that talk now?” 

You cast a glance at your friends fighting over the pastries in the box. They won’t even notice you’re gone. 

Lando’s mouth is on yours as soon as you’re out of sight and earshot, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You almost forget what you’re supposed to be doing, but catch the thought at the last second before it slips away. 

“Mm, Lando, hold on—” You mumble, splaying a hand flat across his chest. He lets out a distracted sound of question, squeezing at your waist. “Less kissing, more talking,” You chide. 

Lando pouts, but obliges, taking a step back to put just the smallest bit of space between you. “Fine, fine, I’m listening.” 

“Look, I don’t—I’m not normally one to do things that scare me. And when you told me who you were, I immediately shut down because I thought no, that’s not me. I can’t do that, that’s too scary to be me. I wanted to play it safe.” 

His heart beats strongly under your palm, if not a little quicker than usual with your fingers curled into the softness of his rumpled jumper.

You’re not looking at his face right now. With how vulnerable you’re being with him right now, you aren’t sure that you’ll be able to utter the words if you look him in the eye. 

Instead, you’ve got your gaze trained on his hand on top of yours, the collection of bracelets on his wrist that you remind yourself to ask about another time. 

“Getting to know you, realizing how much I like you, I think it also made me realize that life is too short to always play it safe. Some people are worth stepping out of my comfort zone for. What we are, what we could be—you’re worth stepping out of my comfort zone for,” You say softly, but firmly. 

It’s nothing but the absolute truth. You’re putting yourself out there in a way you’ve never had the courage to do before. But Lando, he gives you courage. He makes you want to try. 

“So this is me, doing something scary, asking if you’ll…take a chance on me?” 

Only then do you muster up the courage to look him in the eye, and when you do, you’re met with the biggest, most smitten grin you’ve ever seen grace his face. Dimples on full display, eyes squinted with happiness, he’s smiling so hard it almost looks like it hurts. 

“I’ll take every chance I’ve got on you,” He says earnestly, cupping your face in both hands. “And if I’ve got none left, I’d find some more, ‘cause you’re worth it a hundred times over.” 

“Sorry it took me so long to figure my shit out,” You say sheepishly. 

 He gestures towards himself suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. “I knew you couldn’t resist all this for long.”

“You’re so dumb,” You scoff, shaking your head at his antics. Even so, your affection for him has never been clearer. You may say he's dumb (you know he isn’t), but he’s yours now. He’s yours now and you've never been more excited to see what’ll happen. 

“Well, you like me, so…guess you’ve just got to deal with it.” 

“Yeah? And what do you think I should do about that?” 

“What do I think? You wanna know what I think? I think you should…” He trails off, pushing in closer, closer, closer, until his mouth hovers a millimeter from yours. Careful fingers tilt your chin up to guide you the rest of the way, meeting your lips gently. 

You’d kiss Lando all day if you had the time, just because now you can, but there’s still the issue of the when and how you’re going to tell your friends. Reluctantly, you pull away. “We should get back before they notice we’re missing.”  

“Probably, yeah.” You wait for him to move but he doesn’t. He just looks at you like he can’t believe you’re real. 

“What?” You reach up hastily in an attempt to smooth out your hair. “Do I look okay?” 

“You look perfect.”

“Stop being so sweet. I mean, do I look like I’ve just been kissed within an inch of my life?” 

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” 

You press one more quick peck to his lips in lieu of a response, giving his hand another squeeze before turning on your heel to head back. Lando follows behind like a puppy, close but not too close. 

All eyes are on you the second you step back into the room, four pairs flicking from Lando to you, back to him, then back to you. Granted, it probably would’ve been a smarter idea to return at separate times so as to not raise suspicion, but it’s too late for that now. 

“...What?” You try for a lighter tone to throw them off, tilting your head to the side. 

One second passes. Two, three, four seconds. You almost think you can pull this off. Then—

“You fuckers!” Maren huffs, seeming much more alert and awake now. “You couldn’t have waited another day to get your shit together?” 

Definitely not the reaction you were envisioning in your head, if you’re being honest. 

“‘Scuse me?” Lando asks, looking both bewildered and a little bit offended by the outburst. He aims a sideways glance at you for an explanation that you can’t provide.

All it does is confuse you, but for some reason, Samira begins to giggle uncontrollably. Even Max looks a mixture of happy and smug. 

“I just lost thirty bucks to Max because of you two!” 

“You bet on us? What the fuck, mate!” Lando exclaims incredulously. 

Max lets out an offended noise from the back of his throat. “You expect me not to take my chances on easy money? Get real, mate. I can give you a cut of it if it gets your knickers out of a twist.” 

“What they mean is, we’re glad you finally figured out you belong together,” Camille says earnestly, only a tad apologetic. Lando takes this moment to sling an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side and pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“Right, well, in other news, I actually came over here with a purpose other than providing joy to everyone,” Max interrupts the tender moment, clapping once. “Lando, we’ve got Keegan’s thing today, so we gotta, y’know—gotta get going, yeah?” 

Lando inhales sharply, shoulders slumping. “Right. Fuck, I forgot about that.” 

“Yeah, I know you did. Too busy wooing your lady and all,” Max teases, aiming a wink in your direction that has you throwing up a playful middle finger at him. Lando turns to face you, frowning. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve gotta—I wish I could stay, I really do. I totally spaced on this thing one of our mates has going on today, we promised we’d go—” 

“It’s okay, Lando,” You say, endeared by his scrabbling for an explanation. He didn’t really need one to begin with, but it’s cute that he feels the need to explain himself. “Go do your thing. I’ll see you when you’ve got time.” 

“You’re the best. How did I get so lucky?” He sighs, dramatically dreamy. Humor twinkles in his eyes. 

“Bye,” You chuckle, moving to peel yourself away from him. You want to get in on one of the pastries Max had brought before they’re gone. 

“Wait, wait.” Lando slips his fingers through yours, tugging lightly to stop you before you can get even a few steps away. “Before I go. Do you have any dinner plans tonight?” 

Your brows pinch in the middle. “No. Why?” 

“I want a do over of our first date. One that doesn’t end in…y’know.” You hum in thought, like you’re even contemplating turning him down, and he lets out a little frustrated whine that makes you giggle again. “Come on, let me take you out. Wanna wine and dine you properly, baby.” 

The term of endearment rolls off his tongue so easily, so casually, like he’s called you it all along. It makes you concede. 

“Where are we going?” 

“That’s for me to figure out before tonight,” He hums. You raise a semi-skeptical brow. “I’ve got ideas, I swear! Just wear something pretty and be ready by seven. I’ll be by to pick you up then.” 

“Okay.” You nod. Lando perks up, beaming bright. He kisses you again, briefly but enthusiastically, before turning to follow Max towards the front door. “See you tonight. And you better not be late!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” 

The rumble of a car driving away echoes out soon after the two boys disappear from sight.

You sigh lightly, returning your attention back to the enticing box of pastries on the counter. You pray the one that had been calling your name in the little peek you'd gotten when Max first handed them over is still there. 

Your hand gets smacked as you eagerly reach for the box, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough to make you curse. You look up to see all three girls waiting expectantly for you to fess up and tell them how you’d gone from awkwardly avoiding Lando to what they'd just witnessed. 

“Can I at least eat first?” They shake their heads firmly, and you whine. “What? Come on, I’m starving!” 

“Explain, then eat.” 

Your shoulders creep up towards your ears in a shrug. Seeing as it was kind of just a gut feeling more than anything, it’s a little hard to articulate with words. You try your best at it anyways.

“I…realized I was making a mistake by walking away because I was scared. You guys know I’ve never been great with change, but I dunno, maybe change is okay sometimes.” 

“Oh my god, our girl is growing up.” 

-------

The closer it gets to seven, you find your nerves growing with every tick, tick, tick of the clock. You’re not even sure why. It’s just dinner, and it’s just Lando. You’re comfortable with Lando. You like Lando. 

So why does it feel like you’re about to do something so much bigger than that? 

Dinner might as well mean canon event in your mind. Things with Lando are literally brand new, not even a full day old yet, but it feels like something monumental. Your first date ended in shambles (thanks to your own doing), so the urge to make sure this one goes perfect is high.

The pressure is on, and you don’t do too well under pressure. That doesn’t even include the fact that your feelings for him are stronger than anything you’ve felt for anyone before. 

The moment Lando pulls up in front and you lay eyes on him climbing out of the car though, all your worries start to melt away. He looks so happy to see you again, even though you haven’t even been apart for a full day. It makes you remember that there’s no reason to get all worked up about anything with him.  

“Hey, you,” He says, leaning in to wrap an arm around your waist as soon as he’s close enough. “Missed your face today.” 

“Just my face?” You tease.

Lando’s head lists to one side, nose scrunching adorably. “Maybe other parts of you too.” Your eyebrows lift towards your hairline amusedly at his words and he groans, nudging you gently in the ribs with a large hand. “Oh, get your head out of the gutter! I didn’t mean it like that.” 

You giggle, dotting a kiss to his pouting lips. “So what’d you come up with for our second first date?” 

“Why don’t you get in the car and see?” He offers out his arm and you take it gladly, accepting his help into the car too. You think he’s about to start the car when he slides into the driver’s seat, but he catches you by surprise by sneaking in another kiss instead. “You look amazing.”

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” You shoot back. He’s gone for simple but put together with a classic white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and some dark trousers, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t pull them off fantastically. 

“All for you, baby.” He grins, winking boyishly. “I got us a reservation at the nicest restaurant in town. Well, nicest according to the loads of travel blogs me and Max looked at. Fancy seeing if Greek summer gal dot com knows what she’s talking about?” 

“With a name like that, how ever could she be wrong?” You play along, lacing your fingers through his. He dots a kiss to your temple. 

Lando chats about his day on the way into town, all the way until his phone rings. His brow furrows, and for a split second you think it might be work calling again. If it is, you have half a mind to answer it yourself and chew them out. 

“Sorry, d’you mind seeing who it is?” Lando lifts himself off the seat, shoving a hand into his pocket to squeeze his buzzing phone out and passing it to you. A wildly unflattering photo of Max flashes across the screen. 

“It’s Max. Want me to answer?” You offer, giggling at the silly sight. He nods gratefully, keeping his eyes on the road. You tap the accept call button, putting the other boy on speaker. 

“What’s up, mate?” Lando says, hitting you with a ‘get a load of this guy’ sort of look. “Kinda in the middle of something here.” 

“Yeah I know, that’s why I’m calling. You can’t go to that restaurant.” 

Lando’s expression morphs into one of confusion, one you’re sure that you’re mirroring as you squint back at him. “Uh…sure we can. I made a reservation, everything’s set already.” 

“I know, asshole!” Max huffs. “Someone must’ve leaked your name on the reservation to the press or something, ‘cause I just drove by a few minutes ago and it’s crawling with people. Like, swamped with paparazzi and fans.” 

Lando’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel, face screwing up into something between anger and despair. “Shit. That’s not good.” 

“Just thought I’d let you know before you get there,” Max says. He sounds guilty, but he has no reason to be. You’re glad he’d been able to get a hold of Lando beforehand. “You can still go out, just…maybe find somewhere else to go, I dunno.” 

“Thank you, Max,” You chime in. 

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up, mate. Cheers.” 

Lando flicks on his blinker to pull off to the side of the road the first chance he gets after Max hangs up, and when he does turn the car off, he immediately goes to bang his head against the steering wheel. “This is so bad,” He groans. 

You smooth a hand down his back in an attempt to soothe him. “It’s fine, Lando. We can just go somewhere else.” 

“I wanted this so badly to go perfect, and again, I’m the reason why it’s all going to shit.” 

“It’s not going to shit. And you wouldn’t be the reason for it, even if it was,” You insist firmly. He straightens up in his seat, turning to face you with doubt crinkling his face that you immediately want to rid him of. Your hand finds his, prying his fingers off the steering wheel to intertwine. “I mean it. I don’t care that we’re not going to some fancy restaurant. All I care about is that we’re together.” 

Lando squeezes your hand, bringing it up to his lips to press a grateful kiss to your knuckles. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”

“I know.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. It makes him chuckle, brings back the twinkle in his eye.

After driving for a bit, you eventually find yourselves at a little gyro spot to grab some food. You push open the door to get out once Lando has put the car to a stop, but at the very last moment, you turn back to face him. 

“You should probably stay here,” You say, gnawing on your lip. 

Lando pouts, but doesn’t make a move to exit the car. He must know it’s for the best. Even so, he digs out his wallet, pressing a few bills into your hand. You click your tongue, giving your head a shake. “Don’t look at me like that. I asked you to dinner, I pay for it.”

“Alright, fine.” 

“Mint. Get me something good?”

“‘Course I will. Salmon, right?” You quip, smiling innocently. His hatred for fish is something you’ll never tire of poking fun at him for. 

“Don’t even joke about that, you monster!” Lando exclaims, slapping a dramatic hand over his chest. You laugh out loud. “And don’t you think about getting fish either, or I’ll never kiss you again.”

“Well, someone’s dramatic!”

“I’m serious!” 

You leave him behind at that, giggling to yourself about his theatrics.

The lady working the counter in the little mom and pop gyro shop is very kind, compliments your outfit and calls you a beautiful young woman while you wait on your food—even gives you an order of veggie kroketes, on the house.

She kind of reminds you of your own mother, whom you make a mental note to call when you have the time. You’ve been having such a good time here, you’ve nearly forgotten the rest of your world outside of it.

You wind up finding someplace not far away to enjoy your food once you’ve gotten it. A hidden spot, a little off the road—not a place anyone would come across unless they were looking hard enough. Perfect for two people who’d rather not attract attention. 

Lando procures a beach towel from the boot of the car for the two of you to sit on as you eat. 

“I’m sorry about the restaurant again. I usually don’t use my actual name when I do things like that, but they were just about booked up and I really wanted us to go, so I did,” He sighs, tracing a finger along the patterned cotton. “I had no idea it’d get leaked, I swear. Guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Does that usually work? Using your name to get things.” 

Lando’s cheeks flush pink and he smiles guiltily, ducking his head momentarily before nodding. “Usually, yeah. I don’t do it often though. Almost never, really. Only for special things, and this…well, I wanted it to be just that. Special.” 

“It is special,” You say, letting your knee bump his. 

He scoffs lightly like he doesn’t think the same, lifting his half eaten wrap in the air. “We’re sat on the side of the road eating takeaway.”

Even a date like this truly is something special to you. Spending time with the person you’ve become so close with in such a short amount of time—the one who makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, who makes you feel like you can truly be yourself—it’s something you were starting to think you’d never have. Lando’s come along and changed all that. 

“Do you think you have to impress me?” Lando doesn’t say anything, just lets his mouth snap shut, but you can see it in his eyes that yes, he feels the need to impress you. You’re not sure why, but you suspect it has less to do with you and more to do with his own feelings. “Because you don’t. I couldn’t care less about your name, your money, or anything else that comes with it. I like you for you, not for what your status can get us.” 

Lando stares back at you long and hard, as if he’s searching you for any ounce of indication that you’re not telling him the truth. You’re certain he’ll find nothing, because even though you’re still getting to know each other—flaws, fears, and all—you’ll never lie to him. 

“I’m sorry,” He says eventually. “I dunno why I thought—” He cuts himself off with a shake of the head. “Y’know what, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be better.” 

 “You don’t need to be better,” You hum, resting your head against his shoulder. “You just need to be you.” 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re really good at this pep talk thing?” 

“Never had to give anyone this many pep talks before.” 

Lando pokes his fingers into the ticklish spot between your ribs in response. You reach to bat away his hand, but he moves quicker, leaning in to drag his nose against your cheek. 

“Is now a bad time to tell you I did actually get the fish?” 

Lando rears his head back faster than you could’ve imagined, looking so absolutely horrified at your insinuation it has you breaking composure almost instantly. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was two seconds away from gagging out loud. “No you did not.” 

“I didn’t, but wouldn't it have been funny if I did?” 

“That is so not cool,” He grumbles, lips pulling into a pout. You have the urge to kiss it away and you fight it for a moment, but then you remember you can kiss him whenever you want, so you do. It seems to make him forget about his disgust, because he kisses you back immediately. 

You’re one who’s dazed when you finally resurface for air, but you manage to smile sweetly. “Better now?” 

“Getting there. Maybe a little longer would help.” 

“Just a little longer?” 

“A lot longer works too.” 

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[justhereforsomethingnice]

“Great, welcome mr. Wayne.” Danny sighed when a man who introduced himself as Bruce Wayne entered the shop. “So happy you could make it. I’m Danny, I’ll be doing your reading today.” God, one ounce of energy less in his words and he wouldn’t be only dead on the inside anymore.

The man beamed at him. “Amazing to meet you Danny. Say, I’ve never seen you here before, are you new?” The man asked jovially.

Danny grimaced. “Yep, now please follow me.” He was going to get so nauseas from those damn fumes back there, he just knows it. With how shit had been going, he’s going to throw up that one sip of milkshake he managed before yesterdays disaster on those fancy ass shoes. And that man couldn’t stop smiling and touching every damn little trinket on his way to the back.

“And what is this,” Wayne asked holding up a shiny trinket, immediately dropping it and picking up the next one, “fascinating, and this? Is this a spell book, how peculiar.” Danny was going to add another shade to the collection here.

He finally reached the room. “Sit down over there please mr. Wayne. Now, what exactly did you want to achieve when coming here?” He asked. The only thing miss. Claire told him to actually do before the reading.

The man actually seemed to become bashful at that, a bit nervous. He wrung his hands before rubbing one of his hands over the opposite wrist. “I was actually hoping to talk to some resently deceased people. A friend of mine died and but was very fond of this shop you see.”

Danny held in the sigh. Great, it was most likely the woman with the pearls floating behind him. “Let me guess, lady, dark hair, nice pearly necklace.”

The man seemed caught of guard for just a second before becoming it seemed angry. Or just very very sad. “See here young man, I will -,”

“Yeah yeah, save it.” Was he being an ass? Yes. Did this man deserve it? Most likely not. Did he care? No. He just spend the entire night trying to find shelter for the rain just for it to either crumble, leak anyways or in one kinda memorable occasion, blow up. So no, he did not care that he hurt some Vlad’s 2.0 feelings. The woman eagerly began speaking so he just repeated what she said. “Great, so she wants you to not let the Matt hatter ruin Alice in wonderland for you?” Danny looked at the lady like she had gone crazy. “Really, that’s what you’re starting with? Anyways.” He sighed.

The man had become silent at that. “Also, we I ask Alfie?” He looked at the spirit lady who nodded enthusiastically. “Give you the book he wrote named ‘how to navigate social situations: a step by step guide’ and use it to finally have a good talk with her grandson.” Okay, so rich dude had family issues. None of his business. “And, in her words, ‘chance the time on the grandfather clock, this is just getting depressing’ whatever that means.” The man was just silently staring at him now.

Another ghost tapped the lady on the shoulder before he turned to Danny too. “And great, another one joined.” They linked hands. “So it’s a date now, great.” He grumbled more to himself. So it was two friends who died and not just one. Okay, he could deal with that. “He says that they will always love you no matter what.” So it was a lovers affair instead of just friends? “And that the name you’re looking for is Edward Colson? Sheesh, was this a murder or something.” The two were getting more exited and talking his ears off.

“One at a time please.” He glared to mr. Wayne’s left. The man glancing behind him, predictably seeing nothing. “Anyways, was that what you came for? Or do you need anything else?” The man seemed to have actual tears in his eyes.

“You can see my parents?” Danny snapped his eyes to the two who looked sadly at their apparently son. Well, that explained the fashion choice. Also, that was almost worse then a love affair murder case.

Danny just stared at the man and didn’t really know what to say. He was translating this guys dead moms words to him. Ancients, he was an asshole. Stupid, idiotic, moronic move Fenton. Great, how to cut this off as soon as possible. “Only for a while. The power in this room will fade in a bit.” The man was a totally different person now. Danny hesitated. “Do you want to say anything to them?”

He thinks he had much more tact just now than in the past 10 minutes. “I’m sorry.” The two ghost seemed to decent on the man. Cooing at him, telling him he was not at fault, that he couldn’t know, couldn’t have done anything, was only a child when it happened.

“Ah screw it.” Danny said before making just the tip of his finger invisible. That should contain the spirits becoming visible in the area, right? He was still debating wether this was a mistake or not while the spirits of Martha and Thomas Wayne became visible to their sons eyes. Ancients he needs Jazz.

I’m a Size Medium, Thanks.

Danny is irritated. No actually he is beyond irritated. He is annoyed, he is frustrated, he is…. He’s really fricking irritated and can’t be bothered to remember any more of Jazz’s SAT words.

He continues his glare out the window as he searches for his straw with his mouth.

He just- where is it- thinks it’s a stupid fricking-stupid ass milkshake-he shouldn’t have to basically-gah! Danny snaps his head down to find his suddenly missing straw, only to successfully poke it directly into his eye.

“Ow! Fricken-“ He groans, throwing his head back, and putting his hands to his face, “Mother-tucker, Holy Taming of A Shrew!” He pounds his free hand not cradling his eye on the table, trying not to make more of a scene. Of course, this utterly fails because it immediately tips over his milkshake glass with a clatter as it spills onto his pants, making him jump up with enough force to knock the table over and drop the milkshake glass the rest of the way to the floor.

Danny stares at it with blurry vision and a watery eye. He sighs, “At least-“

The glass shatters.

Danny sighs again, deeper. “Of course.”

He looks up at the restaurant around him. Noticing the many, many people staring at him.

Wonderful.

Danny grimaces, “Sorry, I so didn’t mean for that to happen, uh-“ Danny reaches to straighten the table, fumbling for a second before it stands upright, he steps away from it, “If there’s any way I can help or.. like fix it. I can pay for the cup..” a server comes over to him, “if you want..?”

The server’s dead eyes don’t waver as they silently place a wet floor sign over the spilled milkshake.

“Thanks.”

“Uh huh.”

The server walks away, leaving Danny to sigh all on his own. He leans over to grab his backpack from the booth, checking it over for milkshake before slinging it on his back, thankfully clean.

He makes it one step forward before he feels the floor go out from under him. Ah gravity. His greatest enemy. This is karma for all those times he’s ignored it, isn’t it?

The wind is knocked out of him when his back slams to the floor, cushioned by the dulcet sounds of his bag crunching against broken glass.

He looks up at the wet floor sign.

The man on the yellow plastic mocks him.

Danny sighs.

He curses his stupid luck.

He curses this stupid city.

Then he curses himself because he knows any of this stupid city’s curses end up affecting him anyways.

Danny gets to his feet, ignoring the feeling of milkshake on his hands and his… everywhere.

He trudges out of the diner without looking back. At least he’d already paid for it.

He grimaces at the milkshake handprint on the door, trying to wipe it away with his shirt and only succeeding in making it worse.

Danny catches the eyes of the server inside, staring at him, eyes progressively more annoyed.

Danny puts his hands up in surrender and backs away.

Directly into a person. Only his milkshake covered self prevents him from being hit with anything more than the man’s scathing glare.

He puts his hands back up and moves away to dodge everybody else on the sidewalk. Along with the occasional ghost. Visible only to him of course.

By the time he has managed to escape the sidewalks into an alley, he is certain there is a trail of slightly sticky businessmen behind him.

Danny crouches to swing his backpack down in front of him and take stock. Okay, he could put his sweatshirt on over it… but it would also get ruined… damn it.

Danny looks around, checking every inch of the alley for cameras and then backing himself into a corner just to be safe. The flicker of intangibility is barely noticeable except for the wet squelch of milkshake remnants dropping to the alley floor. Lovely.

And of course, the flash of every single Gotham ghost in the area becoming visible and almost tangible for a split second. Also… lovely. There’s a couple startled shouts on the street.

Maybe an alleyway was not the best place for that.

Danny slides his sweatshirt on over his shirt to at least pretend like he was covering a mess and then shimmies out of the alley while trying to make as little contact with ghosts as possible.

He’s almost completely certain he looks crazy as all get out if the stare he gets from a passerby means anything.

Of course… now he’s left glaring across the street again.

He can feel the Infini-Map burning a hole in his backpack. It said this was the next place a natural portal would open and get him back home.

It just didn’t say… when that portal would open.

But of course, it’ll be right in the middle of somebody’s store. Usually not an issue. Except again, this stupid city’s curses are attracted to his energy, so of course the store couldn’t be literally ANYTHING ELSE!

Danny glares at the stupid fricking sign and the stupid predictable pun and the stupid neon hand in the front window waving at him.

‘The Claire Witch Project: psychic, medium, and Claire-voyant’

Danny is on day three of simultaneously avoiding the entire building while remaining close enough he can be there when the portal forms.

He is dirty, tired, and running out of money. In short, Danny is starting to lose hope on this endeavor.

The worst part?

He has the perfect solution.

There’s a pathetic little piece of printer paper taped to the inside of the window.

‘Help wanted’

When he’d first gotten here, Danny had followed the infini-map all the way to this horrific city, seen the sign, and turned a quick 180. He’d rather die again thanks.

He’d smacked into two billboards just coming into the city, and there was literally no stars, why would he want to stay here till the portal opened when he could just find another?

Except.. Danny’s eye twitches dangerously as he thinks back on it- except there wasn’t another portal. This was it. For the foreseeable future, he either caught this portal or was stranded for whoever knows how much longer.

Danny sighs again and dreads his continued existence. He looks both ways on the street, takes a step forward, nearly gets run over, steps back, and turns for the nearest crosswalk.

Fine. He could follow rules if it meant increasing his chances of leaving.

He tries to hold in the sigh this time, he really does, he swears.

Not the one before he opens the shop door though, that sigh deserved freedom from his trials. It joins the myriad of whispy translucent shades lingering in the store. Because of course there was just enough spiritual energy in here for them to be visible to him.

“Hey there!” A girl in loose fitting colorful clothing appears from behind a corner, “I’m Claire! How can I help your life journey today?” He can see the way her bulky crystal hair accessories sway with her movements. What was he getting into here again?

Danny tries to ignore the incense shoving itself up his nose as he speaks, “Hey, I was…” He was really doing this huh? “Hoping that the help wanted position is still available?”

The girl looks him over as she moves to the back of the checkout counter. The clear observation makes him nervous, and he takes his hands out of his pockets to try and look marginally more… candidate-able.

“You have experience?”

“Sure d-“ He wants to throw up in his own mouth, ancients this is so cringe, just let him die, “Sure do!” He says through choked back vomit and false cheer, “I’m a…” -barf- “I’m a medium.”

“Oh don’t worry about that, you don’t need a uniform, I don’t need your size silly!”

Danny blinks. What? Also. What?

“Wait-I’m hired?”

Claire pauses from getting something from under the counter, “Didn’t I already say that?”

“Uh…” Danny’s eyes dart around the shop, “No?”

“Oh well, you are, you have the right vibes, don’t worry,” she slides a few papers onto the glass counter, and Danny is abruptly, horrifically reminded he has no legal documents to speak of here. He thinks. He hasn’t actually checked.

Crap.

“Of course, most of my clients pay in cash, so I’ll pay you in cash too just to make it easier, and any crystal sales I’ll just add to it. Sound good?”

“Sure?” Oh no, is this gonna be Danny’s first real job? “But I don’t know anything about crystals. I have a goth friend but she’s not into that stuff.”

Claire waves his comment away, “Oh no worries, I can leave a packet.”

Danny nods, “Thank- wait, sorry. Leave?”

Claire laughs, pulling out a bag from behind her counter, “Yes I leave for a trip in two days. Family things you know,”

Danny feels like his brain is being scrambled, “Oh, what, what happened? Is everything okay?”

Claire looks at him, blinking wide, “What? Why would anything have happened?”

“Because… you said, you were leaving for-“

“Just don’t want to get caught in a bad position, you know how it is.”

Some of the shades stir in the air, their misty movements twitching with agitation enough to draw his eye for a second.

“Right. Well I’m glad I came when I did then,” Danny says, because he still doesn’t want to be rude.

Claire smiles at him.

Danny pats his hands against his sides awkwardly, trying not to look up at the movement of the shades intertwined with incense smoke at the ceiling.

There’s a little jingle behind him, which he belatedly realizes is the door when Claire moves to greet them before he can even turn around.

“Ms. Jives! Wonderful to see you! How’s the goldfish?”

Ms. Jives turns out to be a slightly older woman, maybe early seventies with a cane but she looks good. The coffee brown hair is almost certainly a dye job but it frames her wrinkled face well.

“Oh Jim is lovely dear, much better this way, I bought him a new plant just the other day, he just loves it.”

“Good, here for your reading right?”

“I am! But you can finish up with your customer first if you need,” Ms. Jives says. Claire waves her concern away.

“No need, this is Danny, I just hired him, he has a similar mystical connection.”

“Oh that’s lovely,” Ms. Jives says as she passes by him, “Would you like to come with dear? Claire is going to do a reading for me.”

Danny grimaces, “Sure.”

In the end, by the time Ms. Jives makes it slowly to the back room, Danny is trying to think of where he’s gonna sleep tonight. He mostly zones out when Claire dims the lights and starts talking nonsense.

All he heard was “something something card, something something magician something reversed something something balance something something chihuahua.”

Ok, maybe he wasn’t listening. But he was trying to focus on not staring at the movement of the shades, and the incense was mega strong and Claire had some weird ass music playing. He’s almost certain she’s faking everything. Down to the atrociously bright bead earrings.

Danny sags when she finishes, all too happy to leave the weird little curtain covered room.

He stands in the front awkwardly while Ms. Jives pays, twiddling with the various crystals and trying to figure which ones are actually y’know.. mystical or whatever.

Answer? Surprisingly most of them. That he could tell, at least, but it’s not like he actually knows how to sense that out on purpose. He’s pretty sure a couple of the heart shaped rose quartzes are complete duds but what does he care.

He’s thoroughly bored by the time Claire calls him back over. Apparently to tell him that he’ll do a reading tomorrow.

“Tomorrow?!” Danny blurts, “Don’t you want to like- I don’t know, make sure I can- or like.. I don’t know, but tomorrow?”

Claire just smiles at him, “I believe you can handle it, trust me.”

‘Trust you? Lady, I just met you and you’ve been nothing but crazy the whole time!’ Danny wants to say, instead, he keeps his mouth shut and nods with what he’s sure is fear in his eyes.

Then she’s pressing something into his hands and when he looks down it’s a key. A key. There’s no way-

“So be here 9am sharp, Danny! You can open up and I’ll come in later!” Claire starts pushing him towards the door, “And Mr. Wayne should be waiting for you when you get here!”

Danny turns around to catch himself in the doorframe, “Mr who will be what now!? Wait, Ms. Claire, Ma’am- why-!” He stops to lower his volume and ask politely, “Why am I doing this? You don’t even know me,” Danny says, one leg still in the store.

Claire smiles, “Because the universe told me to silly! See you tomorrow! Here’s my number!” Then she slaps a sticky note to his chest with enough finality that Danny takes a step back. The door closes with a click and ring of the bell inside.

Danny stares at the door with his eye twitching for at least a minute.

What the hell did ‘the universe told me to’ even mean, you kook!?

Danny sighs and looks down at the sticky note, quickly inputting the number in his phone before something happens to it.

He’s barely hit save when he finally steps away from the shop front and…. is immediately drenched to the bone.

Because apparently it’d been pouring rain and he simply hadn’t noticed from under the awning.

He watches as blue ink slides off the sticky note in little sad face streaks.

Danny sighs.

[mialikeshockey]

Kiss Me - Jack Hughes

Being with Jack was always like a fresh breath of air. Never was there a moment where we weren’t giggling and laughing over the most ridiculous things. Everything was always so smiley, it’s kinda why being with Jack was always so special to me; until I remember he’s my twin brothers best friend. Jack would never be anything more to me than my brothers best friend. Case would never allow it for sure.

So I thought…

“Hey lil mac, how’s it going?” Jack says walking into my room. “Case is out back with Trev.” Jack chuckles, “I wasn’t gonna ask about him, but great to know.” I set my book down on my blanket, “What were you gonna ask about then? You never just come in my room to talk unless Case isn’t home, and well, Case is home.”

“Who said i didn’t wanna talk to you even while Mac is home?” Jack picks my book up and starts looking over at the back. “Since when do you enjoy reading, give me my book back.” I say, taking my book out of his hands. “Ouch. I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me Lex.” I put my bookmark in my book and close it, gently setting it down on my nightstand.

Before I could get a word out, Case runs in my room giggling,Trevor following behind him. Case jumps on my bed, landing right on top of me. “Ew! You stink! Get off my bed Case!” Case just chuckles. “It’s not funny, I will push you off. You have five seconds to get up.”

Case gets up, “Come on Hughesy, we gotta head out soon. Marshall and Danny are waiting for us at the rink.” Case walks out of my room, Trevor following him like a lost puppy. “I guess I gotta go.” I lay back on my pillows, “yeah, I guess so.”

“I’ll call you later lil mac, and ps, maybe this time, answer the phone.” He pats my head and walks out. I grab my book and try to finish what I was reading before, but all I could think about is why he wanted to talk.

—

Later that night, I finished up some last minute homework before I could head to bed. I finish packing my bag for school tomorrow and my phone lights up, with Jacks name on the screen. I sit there thinking if I should answer or not, why would he even wanna talk to me anyways. I mean he does call and text a lot but I’m always dry with him and I don’t try to keep a conversation.

I let myself just have the win of my feelings take over and I answer the call. “I feel like I just won the lottery.” Jack says, very tiredly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack chuckles, “lil mac finally answers one of my calls.”

“Well, make this quick, I wanna go to sleep.” Jack goes quiet for a moment, “Jack, I really gotta head to bed. I have an ap history test tomorrow.”

“okay, goodnight beautiful.” Jack hangs up before I could say anything. My heart drops to my stomach and all I could think about was his voice repeating that over and over again in my head.

I lay down in bed and try everything to get it off my mind, but nothing sounded as good as hearing him call me that. I close my eyes and relax and I was out.

—

My alarm is one of the worst things to wake up to. I hate the noise of it. I turn it off and give myself time to wake up, I sit up and check my phone. Nothing much to really check because I hate having social media but got it to see my families posts.

I turn on some music and I start to get ready. I get one of my jeans out with a sweater to go with it. I put my hair in a low messy bun. I was never big on makeup, I did put on mascara on every now and then but I have gotten used to not putting it on at all. I put some lip gloss on and headed downstairs.

All my brothers were sitting at the table eating breakfast. “Morning boys, morning Gav.” I say, giving Gavin a kiss on the head. “How come Gavin gets a special good morning and Case and I get a lame one?” Aiden gets up from the table, I take his spot. “I actually like Gavin.” Gavin smiles in response.

“Come on Lexi! We gotta go, I gotta pick up Jack!” Case yells to me, walking out of the door. My heart drops at Jacks name. I grab my bag and put my shoes on, “I’ll make cookies with you guys after school if you ask mom go get the stuff.” I tell Aiden and Gavin, they both nod.

—

We get to Jacks house and he walks out. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and an ntdp hoodie, his hair being a bit messy, but I always found that adorable. He gets in the front seat and looks back at me. “Morning lil mac.”

“Morning.” I say quietly, putting my face back down in my phone. Thank gosh the school isn’t far from Jacks house.

—

We get to school and i quickly get my stuff out of the car and walk to the building. I head to my locker and get my history books out and my notes to help study for the test. As I’m shutting my locker, I see a familiar face standing right next to me. “Can I help you?”

Jack rubs the back of his neck, “I wanted to apologize for last night.” I look over at him, “what is there to apologize for?” He gives me a confused look.

“Jack, your my brothers best friend, he’d kill me if I ever once said anything about having a crush on you.” I state, walking away. Jack walks with me, “so you admit it, you do like me?”

“Never said that.” I put my book to the side. “Well then, do you?” I stop and turn and look at him. “It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t Jack. Like I said, you’re my brothers best friend. I can’t do that to him. He’s my twin brother.” Before I could walk away, Jack grabs my arm.

“It does matter Lex, I already talked to Case. He trusts me. Why do you think he lets me come over so much and be around you?” I start thinking of all the times Case never got mad at Jack for hanging out with me and not him.

“I like you a lot Lexi. I wouldn’t be trying to do anything about it if I didn’t.” He grabs my hand. “So kiss me.” I say walking closer to him. “What?” Jack says softly.

“If you like me and Case is okay with it, kiss me to prove it because I don’t believe you.” Jack stands there and looks around. “Exactly.” I say, letting go of his hand and walking away. “Wait! Lex come here.”

Jack pulls me in and kisses me. “I don’t wanna mess up okay. I call you every night because you are my last thought before I go to bed. You’re the last person I want to talk to before I go to bed. I got scared last night and hung up because I didn’t mean to call you beautiful out loud. It just slipped out.”

Before I could reply to Jack, Case and Marshall appear out of the corner. “About damn time!” Case yells. “I’ve been waiting for this for months. Only took a couple pep talks!” Case pats Jack on his back. “Yeah yeah whatever Mac.”

The bell rings, Case and Marshall head the opposite way of Jack and I. Jack holds my hand, “you’ll do good on your test. You’re really smart.” I try to hold back my smile but being called smart is one of my favorite things.

He walks me to my class and before I go to walk in, he kisses the side of my cheek. “Good luck beautiful.”

I walk in class looking like a tomato with how red my face is from smiling.

—

Sorry I haven’t posted in so long, I was visiting family back home and haven’t really been on any social media. I wanna write more for Jack but I have like no ideas but I’m gonna try to post a lot more with holiday themed stuff so if you have requests feel free to send them in!

Credit to gif maker!!

(Also for the people that don’t know, Cases nickname is Mac so that’s why Lexi is named lil mac 😭)

[angellwingss]

Wasn’t going to go on a big rant but you know what since that other post is gaining traction yeah I think I will. So big long rant under the cut. Lolll

I feel like. A lot of people might tell me ‘it’s not that deep’ but to me it is that deep.

I don’t have a problem with JayVik or it’s shippers like. At all. I just think some of them are à really good demonstration of like. Every bad thing when it comes to fandom ever LMAO.

Once again I am (supposed to be) writing a whole big long essay about this already so I will try and keep this kind of short and sweet and it might be a bit lacking but wtvr.

I think a lot of JayVik fans tend to be white queer people. Someone left a tag on my OG post that said basically ‘my take is I’m a faggot and I don’t have to care about a character if I don’t want to’ and no hate to that person cuz you’re right, but this is exactly the kind of stuff that made me make that first post.

I feel like a lot of white queer people have an issue with seeing outside their own identity? If that makes sense? This is seen time and time again with the way some of them behave when big movements happen online, some have a tendency to centre themselves and whatnot so i think it’s kind of the same thing.

It makes total sense that a queer person would prefer queer ships and would prefer JayVik over MelJay, that is not a crime. But I do think part of that is because they can’t relate/identify with Mel or see themselves in her like they can with Jayce or Viktor.

I hate to also make it about feminism but i think a lot of you guys are super like. Male centred, like just in your attraction which once again, not the issue not a crime. But i think it’s also why CaitVi, which is a canon queer ship, although popular is still not quite as popular as JayVik despite being canon. Women fetishizing gay men in fandom is not something new, which I think might play a small part in it- I’ve seen a lot of people especially back in s1 infantilizing Viktor and acting like he had no agency or independence and that he NEEDS Jayce to take care of him (that’s another thing. Ableism(looks at you with my eyes)) and they also do the same thing with Jayce where they act like he had 0 agency with any decisions he makes and that he’s like a big dumb baby who doesn’t know anything politics. Hey, guys. That’s a grown man.

My main issue isn’t that people prefer JayVik over MelJay it’s just that some shippers demonize Mel to an insane degree, blame her for getting in the way of their ship (this is also happening right now with Maddie- there’s a leak going around saying that she gets with Caitlyn and people are so upset that this character is getting some INSANE hate and I feel like that’s the same thing going on.)

they blame her for ‘stealing’ Jayce etc etc like. Idk. You don’t have to ship MelJay but I wish more people would appreciate Mel just as a character- imo she is super interesting and has a great story but she’s only ever seen and ‘the other woman’. I’ve seen people say she isn’t like, well characterized and that her story entirely revolves around Jayce which. Yeah she’s definitely heavily involved with him in s1 but she’s clearly got a lot more going on than just that and you would know that if you GAF 🗣️🗣️

for just being. Who she is. I think Mel deserves more attention just in the fandom and it’s just frustrating. People making memes about Jayce going insane over Viktor leaving but like. Mel also just got fucking kidnapped guys. His lover has just vanished without a trace why is nobody also talking about that !!!! Why can’t he care about both these people at the same time !!!!!!!

Anyway I’m not nearly well equipped enough to talk more in-depth about like. Any of this but I do think the demonization of Mel and refusal to see her relationship with Jayce as it is can often times be boiled down to racism like straight up. And also things like the fetishization of gay men in fandom and just things like that are sometimes what can lead to female characters- even the well written ones to be shelved and pushed aside in favour of their male counterparts.

Obligatory ‘not all JayVik fans’ obviously a lot of you are awesome, shouldn’t have to say this. If I’m not aiming for you, you shouldn’t be getting shot.

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 11

Welp.

Fuck.

Good news for you guys, bad new for me. I accidentally labeled two chapters as Chapter 12. There AREN'T thirteen chapters. There are FOURTEEN.

So I'll figure out when to post the extra chapter. But in the meantime:

Enjoy Eddie giving the denouement. Like that's it. That's whole chapter.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

~

Eddie called everyone into the club. Billy Hargrove, Heather Holloway, Nancy Wheeler, Jason Carver, Wayne and all his crew. The only one that wasn’t there was his ace in the hole.

“Thank you all for coming,” Eddie said, sitting on the edge of the stage while everyone sat around in the tables.

Hilariously Nancy and Jason sat as far apart from Billy as possible. What was even more hilarious was that Billy, Stella, and Heather formed a weird triangle trying to keep their distance without looking like it was deliberate.

“Just so everyone is aware,” he said with a grin. “Everything is be recorded, audio and visual.” He pointed to the cameras.

Nancy frowned, but merely crossed her arms and said nothing.

“These past couple of months have been the hardest the club has ever faced,” he began, “in all its history of being opened. And everyone just kept telling me it was bad luck. That bad news comes in waves and that we would ride this out same as always. But it all felt so contrived and I could not figure out why.”

“The absolute arrogance!” Jason huffed. “Thinking you know better than God!”

“Oh honey,” Eddie purred. “I’d have to believe in him to think that. Which I don’t, so shut it. “

Jason grumbled, but wisely settled down.

“Everyone also seemed to think this all started with the arrival of Steve,” he said, causing Steve to flush in embarrassment. “But Steve only got hired because I needed a new Envy.”

“Which I still think is bullshit,” Billy huffed. “What I do off the clock is none of your God damned business.”

Eddie shrugged. “And normally I would agree with you, Billy but you add in it was the mayor’s daughter and I wasn’t going to court legal trouble. But somehow I did anyway. So why?”

Everyone looked around at each other, trying to suss out who was to blame.

“You see I was missing a piece of the puzzle,” Eddie said, leaping off the stage to his feet. “And hooboy, did I get it when I talked to Jonathan Byers.”

Nancy’s head shot up, her jaw slack and her eyes wide. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this gibberish.” She got to her feet and grabbed her purse.

“What’s matter, Nancy?” Steve said, sidling up Eddie. “Don’t you want to hear how Eddie figured out your scheme?”

Her head snapped around. “There is no scheme it’s all in the deluded mind of the this deranged individual. I will not be part of this.”

“You’re fianceé will probably get arrested,” Eddie said with a half shrug. “For her part in the scheme.”

Nancy turned around slowly. “I’m dating Jonathan. You just said my fianceé was female. A her.”

Jonathan came out from backstage. “That’s right, I’ve been the other man for years. But it was okay with Heather because she got off on cuckolding with other men, too.”

Everyone gasped as they turned to look at Heather.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she huffed, examining her nails.

“You see,” Eddie said, “it always struck me as odd that she would still have a fiancé after being caught with Billy. But there was never any indication that they had broken up. But when Jonathan had told me about the photography studio I got it. Steve wasn’t supposed have been involved at all. It was an accident and one that sent Nancy scrambling.”

He started walking around the room pointing out all the players. “Billy got played as much as Jonathan did. I’m not sure how Nancy got to Stella, but Stella was supposed to target whoever it was that I hired to replace Billy.”

“For all your talk of equals,” Stella spat, “the men still out numbered us women two to one. All she had to do was ask, though she paid me too. I didn’t realize that she was planned on shutting the place down. I thought she was trying to get you to sell it.”

“Then go to a different strip joint,” Eddie said rolling his eyes. “Oh wait... it’s because I actually pay my strippers. Do you really think that the new owners would be as generous?”

She gave little half shrug with a moue. “It would have been if I bought it.”

Everyone gasped again.

“Go to hell, Stella,” Bakir hissed. Bakir was an immigrant and his English wasn’t very good. “Would be horrible boss.”

“Fucking hell,” Scott agreed. “I’d take Eddie over anyone willing to hurt people for money.”

Danny raised her hand. “Which brings up an interesting point, what does Nancy get out of this?”

Eddie grinned and snapped his fingers at her. “I was thinking the same thing. What does Nancy Wheeler get out of shutting down these businesses? And the answer is a world-wide exclusive to the story. I think she got this high off getting the lab shut down when she was in high school that she had to keep chasing. That same high serial killers get.”

“So what did start all this?” Steve asked from the table he shared with Scott and Robin.

“Jason Carver,” Eddie said smugly. “When Chrissy broke up with him, he became enraged. He had known that Nancy had done exposés before and brought her to one of the Sin nights. She didn’t agree to it until she heard that it was one of the places Jonathan cleaned on occasion.”

Jason’s head whipped around to face her. “This wasn’t enough on its own?” he huffed waving wildly at the poles on the stage.

“No,” Eddie said shaking his head with a huff. “She had to control Jonathan because if he got wind of her schemes he would leave her for good.”

“Damn right,” Jonathan snarled. “And this is me breaking up with you Nancy.”

“You don’t know what you are doing Jonathan,” Nancy purred. “I’m trying to save your soul. Or I could tell Mommy all about how you took pictures of me while I was undressing. A sweet, underaged girl.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

Jonathan began laughing. “That? That’s what you’ve been holding over my head all this time? I told my mom about that when I got into a fight with your then boyfriend and the cops got called. Fuck you.”

She snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. Her hold on him well and truly gone.

“Back to the scheme,” Eddie said landing at Heather’s table. “The first thing she did was find out the weak parts of my operation. She must have overheard me telling Jeff, that a political scandal would be grounds for instant termination.”

Nancy shrugged. “That alleyway is so easy to hide in, you really should get that checked.” She winked at him.

“Then she deployed her fianceé,” Eddie continued clicking his tongue against his teeth, “to find an easy mark to get into bed with. Immediately she zeroed in on Billy. Loud, obnoxious, and egotistical. He was perfect.”

“Fuck you,” Billy huffed. “No one made me do anything!”

Eddie chuckled. “Too easy, honestly. It’s honestly the one fault I find in your plan, you could have chosen someone a little more difficult.” He held up his thumb and forefinger close together.

“But I digress.” He held up his hands. “Billy would get caught with Heather, by Nancy, a part left out the papers because she has friends in high places in those publications.”

Again Nancy looked smug.

“You won’t be so smug when Eddie gets through with you,” Steve said shaking his head. “Where are your denials now?”

“Why deny any of it?” she asked with a laugh. “He’s painting me to be some evil genius, that’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Don’t worry, I’m just getting started,” Eddie assured her, walking over to where Stella sat with Danny and Levi. “This is where she tripped up. Stella was supposed to keep escalating the attacks on the new dancer until they got seriously hurt or they quit. Only they weren’t counting on Steve. Steve whom, if Nancy let get hurt like that would seriously damage her reputation. So tried everything she could to dislodge him herself. But Steve was already entrenched into the club’s culture. So she had to show her hand early so that Stella would be forced to stop the attacks against him.”

“I knew it was a risk,” Nancy admitted with a shrug. “I thought I could appeal to his better nature and our friendship, but he likes stripping.”

Steve laughed. “Hell yeah, I do. It’s good money and better company.”

Nancy rolled her eyes.

“But then it really unraveled,” Eddie said with a grin, “when Jonathan spotted Steve coming out of the dressing room after his lap dance and asked for help. He wanted to know Steve knew of any place that would be willing to take him on full time.”

“When I found out she was willing to help Steve get a job,” Jonathan spat, “but was constantly undermining my ability to even hold a job, I was willing to take anything Steve could help me get so I could get out from under her thumb.”

“Then I met with him,” he continued. “I found him to be genuine and hardworking. His foreman spoke highly of him and all I needed to know was what position he would take. So everyone I would you like you to meet Jonathan Byers, the new chef’s assistant under Monty.”

All the crew of Hellfire clapped except Stella, Levi and Danny.

“And I would like to introduce you to our three new dancers,” Eddie finished with a wink. “Micaella Dimitriou, Kyle White, and Mason Clark. After all Levi, Danny, and Stella are under arrest now.”

“What?!” Danny squawked, leaping to her feet as cops swarmed the club.

Immediately Heather started crying about how she was tricked into all this and how much of a victim she was. All while Nancy screamed about how much of a bitch she was and how she never loved her.

In the end, Jason, Heather, Nancy, Stella, Levi, and Danny were all carted away for varying offenses.

Eddie dusted his hands off. “Right now that garbage has been cleaned out, I am announcing that we are closing the club for two we–”

A roar of outrage erupted from the rest of the crew.

He held up his hands. “Just for two weeks and you’ll get paid based on the average from last year. We are going to be doing some remodeling and it will allow the new dancers time learn their roles.”

There was some murmuring, but that was fair enough.

“Micaella will be in Megera,” Eddie said, “the Fury of ancient Greece. Mason as Set, the Egyptian god of chaos, and Kyle as Kimaris, marquis of hell.”

That got a lot more cheers and excitement.

“Megera will be taking over as Wrath,” Eddie said. “But this time I did give anyone the chance the audition for it.”

Scott snickered. “I still don’t know how you kept it from those three, it was brilliant seeing their shocked Pikachu faces.”

“Oh!” Eddie said with a shy smile. “That was easy. I didn’t tell anyone it was to replace them except for a couple of close confidants.” He shrugged. “I even had them come in, told them it was for a new routine.”

Gareth raised his hand. “He didn’t tell me. Probably because I would have blabbed it all over the place.”

“He didn’t tell me either,” Chrissy said, “I think he wanted me to have plausible deniability if Stella came after me. Which she had shown in the past she was willing to do.”

“Right in one,” Eddie said snapping his fingers at her with a fond smile. “I only told Wayne, Steve, and Scott.”

Jonathan tilted his head to the side. “Why those three?”

Eddie started counting off on his fingers. “Wayne and Scott because they were going to be helping me hire. And Steve because he figured it out on his own. Didn’t you, beautiful?”

“The dance he was having us learn was very...” Steve said with a blush, “angry?” He snapped his fingers. “Fierce! That’s the word. I also knew that Billy had be conspiring with Stella, so I figured that Eddie was going to replace her.”

“Fair enough,” Chrissy said. “So what are all the changes that are being made?”

Eddie launched into getting new tables and chairs, a new stage, a better sound equipment and eventually a new wing, but that would take longer than the two weeks he was willing to be closed. He explained that they would continue to work at night, while the construction crew worked during the day.

“Then to celebrate the new opening,” he said, “we’ll finally do the fairy tale night!”

Then the cheer really did go up. They had been wanting to do that for ages. They had their costumes and had the dances down, but first Chrissy hurt her ankle and then this shit came up and it was past time for them to do it.

Eddie giggled. “Is this why detectives do this shit? Because holy hell was that a rush!”

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @garden-of-gay

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @novelnovella @micheledawn1975

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  6 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again. 

He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched.  One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize.  But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right?  It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help.  You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him.  “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird.  Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”  Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone.  “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?”  ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful.  “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.”  Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.”  You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away.  “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.”  A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.”  This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away.  “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -”  “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood. 

Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.

The word ethereal came to mind. 

Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream. 

And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration. 

Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt. 

Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance. 

“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.” 

You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.

“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?” 

If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -

 “Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.” 

Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth. 

“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”

How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you. 

Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat. 

Well, fuck. 

There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it. 

"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one. 

Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other. 

The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you. 

“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew. 

“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.” 

Oh God.

 There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.

“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed. 

He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.” 

Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented. 

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked. 

Everyone except for you. 

“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.” 

Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.” 

“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!” 

“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held. 

“How would I do that?” You asked. 

As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.” 

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.

As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head. 

Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building. 

Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed. 

“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?” 

You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?” 

“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence. 

Dinner. Shit. 

“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.

You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -

“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior. 

Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest? 

This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so. 

“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.” 

The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did. 

“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?” 

Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”

It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf. 

Then, you came to a stop in front of the church. 

You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home.  She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect. 

For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door. 

Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.

Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket. 

The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction. 

The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside. 

Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming. 

Who gave a shit? Nothing would change. 

But, maybe - 

Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow? 

“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?” 

Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.” 

“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you. 

It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true. 

Something almost wonderful and exhilarating. 

He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura. 

That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’

It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder. 

“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up. 

“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.” 

After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.” 

“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.” 

His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate. 

In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind. 

Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?” 

Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.

He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.” 

A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you. 

“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in. 

You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -” 

Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs. 

“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words. 

“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.” 

Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern. 

He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm. 

He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged. 

“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...” 

He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression. 

“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway. 

The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.” 

“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.

“Sylus, I’m -” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly. 

At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way. 

Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.” 

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in. 

“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?” 

Of course you did. More than anything. 

But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.” 

He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin.  His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.

“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say. 

No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin. 

“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.

“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.” 

Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth. 

After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch. 

Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way. 

And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans. 

It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded. 

“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -” 

It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.

Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready. 

“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart. 

You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan. 

“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole. 

The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more. 

“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling. 

It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat. 

“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”

His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch. 

The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse. 

It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold. 

When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked. 

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time. 

You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer. 

He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk. 

One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible. 

When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking. 

And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing. 

You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.

“You okay?” 

A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable. 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense?��

“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed. 

“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath. 

You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.

Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought. 

A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb. 

“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”

He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

[mistriavalley]

Okay so I’m loving your smut headcannons and at the bottom of Sam’s you talked about the idea of both Sam and Sebastian fing the farmer. If you’re comfortable w it I would LOVE to know what you have to write about it. Lots of love♥️♥️

Sam's fantasy (Sam x Sebastian x afab!farmer)

Note: This is based on my Sam smut headcanons. You don't necessarily have to read those, but they will give you some context, because I'm basing these headcanons on those

TW: 18+ MDNI, smut, threesome, masturbation, everyone is giving and receiving oral, creampie

Masterlist

As I mentioned in my previous headcanons, Sam is very much open to try almost anything and threesomes aren't an exception. He'd prefer it to be with someone he trusts though and that someone would be Sebastian in this case. It has been a fantasy of Sam's for a while anyways

It's not that he's super attracted to his best friend, but it has definitely crossed his mind a couple times. He has even thought about it while jerking off. Just imagining the sight of you sucking him off while Sebby is fucking you from behind or beneath you

Sam is a bit hesitant about bringing it up though, because he doesn't want you to get jealous or anything, but you wouldn't be reading this if you'd mind a threesome with these two so yea. The fast speed and eagerness you agree with to it, makes him low-key hard

You two decide that it would be the best to have Sam bring it up to Sebastian alone. You're close to him, yes, but you don't want to run into the risk of putting him on the spot or pressuring him if you have too many people there

Once you guys agree on a day, time and place (which is obviously your farm) you and Sam try your best to set the mood a bit. Some scented candles are bathing the living- and bedroom in a nice orange light and depending on the weather you light the fire place as well. Sam suggests to have some music running in the background, but you can't agree on which songs to put on so you just leave it as it is

When Sebastian finally knocks at the door and you guys let him in it's awkward to say the least. He's just standing around with his hands shoves in the pocket of his hoodie, you're sitting rather stiff on the couch and Sam is trying to figure out how to ease the tension a bit. "Does anyone want a drink or...should we go straight at it?"

His ungraceful attempt at lighting the mood earns him a chuckle from both you and Sebby. "Straight at it? You want us to jump on each other or what?" You both poke some more fun at your boyfriend's clumsy wording and everyone quickly relaxes. After a while of just talking and hanging out you guys finally do decide to move it to the bedroom

There it starts rather awkward and slow as well, but once most of the clothes are gone and heated kisses are being exchanged, everything continues on rather smoothly. Soon you find yourself on your back with Sam's hard cock in your mouth while Sebastian is eagerly eating you out

You slightly gag on your boyfriend's dick as the first orgasm of the night washes over you. Your legs instinctively wrap around Sebastian, trapping him between your thighs. Sam lets out a low moan at the sight, almost shooting his load in your mouth, but he holds back his own climax

Everything is kinda a blissful blurr from that point on. There is either a tongue lapping at your swollen clit or a pair of fingers caressing your g-spot while you either get a cock shoved down your throat or pumping a shaft with both hands

The boys give you a small break though. A few minutes to catch your breath. As your eyes flutter open, you're being graced with the sight of Sebastian sucking Sam off and your breath catches in your throat. Your boyfriend has a fistful of black hair in his hand while his best friend is doing a damn good job at deepthroating him. It's making your pussy wetter than it has ever been before

Quickly you crawl over the bed towards Sam and place a deep, hungry kiss on his lips. He groans into your mouth as he gently rocks his hips and holding onto your body for dear life. Then you get an idea and with a mischievous grin you make your way down until you're right next to Sebastian

He's kissing and sucking the tip while you lick the shaft and your hand is fondling Sam's balls. The mix of his pre-cum and Sebastian's saliva tastes heavenly and you can feel something wet run down your inner thighs

But then suddenly Sam sits up and brushes blonde hair strands out of his face. Pearls of sweat are running down his reddened face and his chest is lifting and falling heavily as he pants. "Fucking hell..."

Sebastian quickly takes his place, making himself comfortable with his head on the pillow. His arm is placed under his head and with his free hand, he takes you gently by your cheek and guides you down. Of course you're more than eager to get another taste of him. While your tongue slowly drags along his shaft, from his balls up to his tip, you feel a shift of weight behind you on the mattress

Before you can look over your shoulder to see what's going on, you feel a familiar pressure on your cunt and you automatically lift up your ass higher. As Sam slowly slides in his heavy cock, you take in Sebastian's entire length. You try to bob your head to the speed of the Blonde's hips, but it's so difficult to stay focused while he hits all the good spots

Sebastian's hand gently strokes your head and he tries his best to keep your hair out of your face while Sam is fucking you straight to cloud 9. You feel a familiar knot forming in your stomach and you grab a fistful of the bed sheets while your other hand is looking for support on Sebby's thigh

Your legs shake as you reach yet another climax and you fall slightly forward until you feel the tip of Sebastian's dick hitting the back of your throat. He throws his head back with a moan as he cums into your mouth. The warm liquid tastes a bit salty and sweet at the same time and there is so much of it that it runs down your chin

Shortly after that you feel Sam's cock twitch inside your cunt and his fingers dig into your hips as he fills you up completely. Cum is dripping out of you from all sides and your muscles ache as you fall flat onto the bed. The air is filled with gasps and the smell of sex

"That was...I don't even know, man." You and Sebastian let out a breathless giggle at his words and for the longest time you all are just calming down and catching your breath

"So does anyone want drinks now?" "Sure." "I'll just get cleaned up first."

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

Hii!! Just a thought, would any of the yanderes baby trap a particularly difficult reader?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘-𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆…

!!! GN reader, children (lmao), manipulation, coercion into parenting, delusions, slight threats, impregnation mention (it’s not the reader, though), obligatory Tim Drake warning, mentions of possible harm to children.

I’m assuming you just mean the comic book yanderes. Let’s see!

I kept the actual baby-acquisition vague. Could be one or both of y’all’s biological kid, could be adopted, could be kidnapped. Who knows! I also gave them ratings on how they would be as a father, cuz why not.

Bruce Wayne: Yes. Absolutely. This is Bruce we’re talking about. You know, the guy who’s never beating the empty-nester allegations? As long as you’re with him, you’re bound to end up with a kid one way or another. Whether he set out to baby trap you or ended up with a child by chance, he is for sure going to hold it over your head. This kid is going to have both of their parents in their life, biological or not. It’s like a new kid spawns in the manor every time you get even a little bit rebellious. (7/10 father; still has his issues, but he’s learned from his past mistakes.)

Bucky Barnes: Okay, I don’t think he’d initially see himself as a family man. Just never crossed his mind, given his life as the Winter Solider. If he did end up with a kid, it would definitely be by accident. But when that happens, he’ll start to give it a little more thought. The idea of a family… it sounds so domestic; so normal. Uh-oh. Instant baby fever. Now he wants even more kids, and he’ll acquire them by any means necessary. Doesn’t manipulate you with any children, but you may feel obligated to stick around; the Winter Soldier does NOT seem like the type to be good at parenting. (5/10 father; doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s at least enthusiastic.)

Clark Kent: This man wants the classic nuclear family life. While he wouldn’t set out to baby-trap you, it will inadvertently happen with his desire for children. He wants to be tackled by at least 3 kids every time he comes home! And if he’s already had Jon, I can see him making it his mission to find the perfect spouse; that’s how he finds you!! Oh, you’re not good with kids? Doesn’t matter. This man is delusional as fuck. It’s not like he sees you for who you are, anyway. Keep in mind that he’s projecting an idealized version of a spouse onto you. (10/10 father; amazing with kids and is willing to pull your weight when you’re being difficult.)

Dick Grayson: If it comes down to it, he will. Any form of manipulation is fair game, and hey… he’s always dreamed of starting a family of his own one day. Even if you’re not big on kids, he’s willing to play the long game to try and get you to change your mind. And if you never do? Welp. That’s too bad. You’re still gonna end up with a child somehow (Dick’s got plenty of ways to make sure of that). When he finally gets what he wants, he’s for sure using the “think of our kid(s)” card any chance he gets. (9/10 father; he’s a family man at heart, and everyone around him thinks it was only a matter of time.)

Hal Jordan: A bit iffy on starting a family. He doesn’t hate kids, he just isn’t sure if he’s ready. However, as soon as he realizes a child in your life could make you more compliant, he quickly starts to sing a different tune. Now he’s all for having kids!! He’d be obsessed with the power it gives, every interaction between you two having that subtle warning of, “try and escape me now.” Papa-Bear Hal is not a force to be reckoned with. You may find yourself not liking the consequences of trying to break up this happy little family. (8/10 father; there’s a bit of a learning curve for him, but he’ll eventually fall into the groove of it.)

Jaime Reyes: Nope. The thought of having kids makes him sick to his stomach. He knows there’s something wrong with him… god only knows what would happen to his kids. The what if’s would drive him insane, easily trumping the possible gains of baby-trapping you. Sure, it might be a bit tempting — and he’ll admit, a small part of him wishes he could one day be a father — but not only would he feel extremely guilty, he also knows that it’s a bad fucking idea. Hopefully, he can continue to ignore Khaji Da’s own thoughts on the matter. It doesn’t matter how important “continuing the Reyes legacy” is, he’s not taking that risk. (6/10 father; despite his fits of spiraling paranoia, he needs to give himself a little more credit).

Peter Parker: Honestly, it’s a toss up. He’s got his concerns with being a father, but thinking about it makes him all giddy inside. I think this would be another case of accidental baby-trapping. He didn’t set out to do it, but hey… if it works, it works. Any “but what about our kid(s)” that he throws at you is by no means intentional manipulation; he’s just genuinely worried what would happen if you left. Then again, I can also see him slightly doing it. As soon as he realizes it works, he’ll keep it in mind. A thing he’ll tuck away for later and only use when absolutely needed. (9/10 father; loves his kid(s) and would do anything for them).

Remy LeBeau: Yeah, probably. As long as he’s in a position where he can have a kid or two, he’ll go for it. Remy secretly longs for a family (though he’ll never admit it), and if starting one means earning your compliance? Well, shit… that’s just killing two birds with one stone! But again, this depends on if he’s in a position where kids are viable. Should he still have some unfinished business to attend to, he’s not gonna be dumb enough to have kids. Growing up in the Thieves Guild taught him a thing or two about why that’s a bad idea. Otherwise, you are not immune to a sudden baby-acquisition by yours truly. (7/10 father; he gives chill baby daddy vibes who tries his best to be there for his kids.)

Scott Summers: Oh, yeah. It’s guaranteed to happen. This man is committed to having a semi-normal life, no matter how unrealistic that may seem. He wants a family. He wants you to be obedient. He wants a sense of normalcy, goddamnit. Y’all are having a kid whether you want one or not. And he leans heavily towards having a biological kid. If you don’t have the means to get pregnant — or fight tooth and nail against the idea — he’s 100% impregnating someone else and stealing their baby. Yes, it’s a crazy idea. Yes, he’s willing to go that far. Don’t test him. He’ll yell and shout at you about how you need to be there for this fucking kid, even if it’s not yours. It’s in your best interest if you comply. (6/10 father; he’s chronically fighting against the absent father allegations and MIGHT be winning… results are still pending.)

Steve Roger: Poor guy wants to settle down so bad. Yes, he’d baby-trap you, but I can see him feeling guilty for it. He knows it’s wrong, and it would especially weigh down on him if you didn’t even want kids in the first place. But he wants a family so bad. He can’t help it!! And as big of a piece of shit he may feel afterwards, he’ll do what’s necessary to make you behave. You need to be here for your kids! If a little bit of manipulation makes you stay, then so be it. He’s surprisingly good at guilt-tripping, making a good case with the image he has to uphold as Captain America. What would people think if they learned he was a single father? What assumptions would they make about you if you left him? Society might not be all that kind to you. It’s best to just stay. (8/10 father; can get a little busy, but he’s definitely there when it matters the most.)

Tim Drake: Not a fan of kids. There might be a chance of him coming up with a baby-trapping scheme during one of his weird fits, but let’s hope he snaps out of it before it’s too late. Do NOT let bro be a father. On the off-chance that he does acquire a kid… pray. And I mean PRAY. His version of baby-trapping ranges from “but this kid needs you” to “I will fucking kill this kid if you leave.” A situation like this means you have to familiarize yourself with Tim’s mood swings. Be compliant at first, then when he starts to second-guess himself, try to gently coax him into giving this child a better home. Hopefully, that poor kid will survive everything unscathed. Tim wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something bad happened to them. (0/10 father; he’d actually do an alright job when he’s mentally stable, but I think everyone — including Tim himself — would agree that he’d do more harm than good raising a kid.)

Wally West: Yup. No hesitation. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, he will get to scheming immediately. His goal would be to make it seem like a natural evolution, even if you’re not keen on the idea of kids. Wally is such a master at masking his manipulation, to the point where it’s unclear if he’s actually baby-trapping you or not, and by the time you’ve realize it… welp… too late. Arguing with him is absolutely frustrating, cuz Wally West does not argue; he smooth talks until makes you feel like an idiot. Wanna know how cruel he is? Those kids will grow up to be accomplices in his manipulation, whether they know it or not. No one can put a stop to his fuckery. (9/10 parent; turns out to be a phenomenal father, I just have to take a point off simply because raising your kids to be just as manipulative as him probably isn’t good.)

[cyarikaplease]

if i could give you the moon

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: You move into a new neighborhood and decide to join the local YMCA to meet people, bringing you to Joel Miller and his wife, Liz. You develop a small crush on him, keeping it to yourself. But when he reveals to you that he’s in open marriage, you decide to take a chance on him, no matter the consequences.

Warnings: lots of angst and smut

You’re standing in a long line at the YMCA waiting to sign up for a membership. It’s kind of crowded and you’re wondering if this is a bad idea. But then again the Y is so close to your new apartment. It would be kind of pointless to sign up for a membership somewhere else that’s farther away and probably more expensive. So you wait until it’s your turn. The woman sitting at the desk hands you your little YMCA card for your keychain and says, “The gym is upstairs and the pool is down the hallway on the left. Both have locker rooms attached.”

You nod and head down the hallway, pushing past the doors into the pool room. The strong scent of chlorine hits your nose as you enter and your feet make a splish sound when you walk on the wet tile. You spot the door to the locker room on the other side of the pool, scanning the room as you do but trying to make it not look like you’re staring at people. The truth is you just want friends. You’re new to the community and eager to make friends. And the Y seemed like a great starting point for new friendships. 

It seems to be mainly women at the pool today which makes you feel a little more comfortable. You go into the locker room and change into your swimsuit. And that’s when you meet a woman a little older than you named Liz who’s using a locker two spots down from you.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” she says, not looking at you while she changes into her swimsuit. 

“Just joined today,” you respond. 

“I’m Liz Miller,” she says, turning to you and holding out her hand, “My husband and I come here.”

You tell her your name and ask, “Do you live in the neighborhood?”

“A few streets over. You?”

“My building’s two blocks away.”

“Nice. Are you new in town?”

“Ahh so you don’t know anyone. Well I’ll be your swimming buddy today.”

“Sounds good to me,” you tell her, following her back out to the pool.

You get in the pool without needing to adjust to the temperature; it’s already pretty warm. You swim laps with Liz, stopping occasionally to talk in between. Your eyes burn from the chlorine and you make a mental note to pick up goggles. She tells you about her husband, Joel. He works in construction and she works in advertising. She’s leaving for a work trip tonight for two weeks in New York City. Your first friend and she’s already leaving for two weeks. Looks like it's back to square one for now. Eventually it’s time for her to go and you’re feeling a little winded anyway. You get changed back into your t-shirt and gym shorts in the locker room and skip using their shower. You live two blocks away so what’s the point in showering here. You walk back out to the lobby together and that’s when you meet Joel. 

You’re taken aback for a moment at just how good looking he is, even under the shitty fluorescent lights in the lobby. His hair is a little damp, presumably from sweating after a good workout. His facial hair is a bit patchy but it’s endearing.  His warm brown eyes feel like they’re staring directly into your soul as he shakes your hand, his touch lingering just a little too long. But Liz doesn’t seem to notice. You notice that he’s not wearing his wedding band although Liz is wearing hers. Maybe he just forgot to put it back on after working out? It’s a shame he’s married because he’s totally your type. But you’re just glad to have two new acquaintances. 

“Now you have two familiar faces here,” Liz says, smiling at you. 

The three of you walk out to the parking lot together but they go to separate cars. You get the sense that they don’t seem like a couple that’s codependent on each other. Or they both came here straight from their jobs. Who are you to judge? You just met them. You have no idea what the dynamic of their relationship is like.

You walk home as the sun starts to set. It’s a warm evening in late June and the Y membership is about to come in handy when you need to cool off from scorching summer heat. You go home and take a shower before winding down for the evening and heading off to bed.

Work goes by pretty slowly the next day. You’re anxious to swim or even work out in the gym to exert some of your stress. You’re also just eager for a chance to make more friends. You come from work and change into work out clothes, bringing your swimsuit with you in your bag. You walk to the Y and contemplate working out in the gym but opt for the pool instead. You change in the locker room and step into the pool. It’s pretty dead tonight. There’s only 3 other people swimming in this ginormous pool with you. You swim a few laps by yourself before getting bored and deciding to leave. But as you get out of the pool you notice none other than Joel Miller walking through the door on the other side of the room. He catches you looking at him and immediately walks directly towards you. You feel a little self conscious for a moment at the fact that you’re greeting him in your sopping wet swimsuit that’s clinging to your body. 

“Hey, how are you?” he smiles. 

“I’m alright! Did Liz leave last night?”

“She did. She left around one in the morning.”

“Damn that’s late. Aren’t you tired from driving her to the airport?”

“Nah, she took a taxi.”

Maybe your suspicions about them not being codependent were right afterall?

“But anyway I came to check on you before I left for the night.”

“You’re sweet. I was just about to change and leave, too.”

“I’ll wait for you in the lobby,” he says, gesturing back towards the door.

“Uh, sure! I won’t be too long,” you say before turning and walking to the locker room, maybe speedwalking just a tad. For some reason you got the sense he was staring at your ass as you walked but you didn’t dare turn around and look. You dry off and change into your clothes hastily before walking to meet Joel in the lobby, butterflies swelling in your stomach for some reason. 

You meet him in the lobby with a big smile on his face, drinking in the sight of you with your flushed and hair wet. 

“Get a good workout in?” he asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“I did. It was a lighter workout for me today.”

“That’s nice… Well I’ll see you around?”

“Mind if I walk you home?”

You’re taken aback at first because why would he want to do that? But then age you don’t know the neighborhood that well yet and it is getting dark out. But you also only live two blocks away so what’s the point of him walking you home. 

But before you can contemplate it even more you say yes. 

And so you’re walking to your apartment side by side, not really saying anything at first until you can’t bear the uncomfortable silence anymore. You make small talk until you reach your building.

“Well, this is me,” you say, stopping in front of the door to your apartment building.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the night?” he asks.

“Uhh not much. I have a new bookshelf I’ve been meaning to build since I moved in. Maybe I’ll start that tonight?”

“I can help with that,” he says, taking a step towards you. 

You gulp at the idea of Joel Miller alone with you in your apartment. This really isn’t a good idea. But he’s the one who offered. And you can have him leave straight after it’s done. 

“S-sure,” you say.

You lead him through the hallways and flights of stairs in your building until you reach your place. You slide the key into the lock and go inside, holding the door open for him as he enters. 

“Sorry it’s kind of a mess. I’m still not one hundred percent moved in yet,” you say, feeling a little self conscious at the state of your apartment. 

“Nothing to apologize for,” he shrugs, “Now where’s this bookshelf?”

You bring him into your bedroom of all places and point to the flat cardboard box leaning against the wall.

“There. As you can see I haven’t even attempted it.”

“That’s okay,” he chuckles.

You sit on the edge of your bed as he goes to work. You watch him construct your bookshelf little by little before you ask if he needs anything.

“Want a bottle of water?” you ask, rising from the bed. 

“Sure,” he says, looking up at you from his position on your floor.

You go into your kitchen and grab a cold bottle of water from your fridge. You go back into your bedroom and crouch down on the floor to hand it to him. And that’s when he locks eyes with you, staring at you intently until his lips suddenly come crashing into yours. 

You pull away immediately and shout, “What the hell?! You’re married! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Hey,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I’m in an open marriage.”

You raise your eyebrow in disbelief but before you can say anything he speaks first.

“I’m being completely serious,” he says, his big brown eyes pleading with you.

It’s not completely unbelievable. Some of your friends were in open relationships. You yourself have never been in one and you’ve never been with someone that is. But deep down, you want him and he seems sincere. 

“Listen, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you before I just did that. I understand if you want me to leave,” he says, starting to get up.

You sigh.

“No you can stay… but you’re right, that would’ve been nice to know beforehand.”

“Does that mean I can do it again?” he whispers, his eyes searching your face for an answer.

You close your eyes and the butterflies swell in your stomach again. Somewhere in your mind there’s a small voice telling you this is a bad idea. But it’s small enough that you ignore it.

“Yes,” you whisper.

He lips meet yours again as he presses you against the edge of your bed. His tongue grazes your lips, begging you for access. And when you give it to him his tongue explores your mouth as his hands caress your face. You kiss him back and slip him a little tongue, too, but it's clear that he wants to be the dominant one. You give in and let him as his mouth, face and hands completely overtake you. He pulls away for a moment and you two look into each other’s eyes. Almost as if you’re reading each other’s minds you both stand up and move to the bed. You lay down and your chlorine crusted hair splays out on the pillow. You silently wish you got to shower and shave before this happened. A sexual encounter with your new acquaintance was not in the plans for tonight. 

He pulls his shirt over his head and removes his shorts before hovering over you. You take in the sight of his naked body, tanned skin peppered with beauty marks. His legs are toned and muscular just like the rest of him. But what he does have is a small pudgy belly that maybe doesn’t particularly match the rest of his physique but is still attractive nonetheless. His large hands move up your thigh and underneath your shorts. He slides them off in one fluid motion and moves down to your thighs, spreading them open. He drinks in the sight of your cunt rapidly getting wet in anticipation for his touch. He bends down and licks one long, slow streak up all the way up to your clit. And that’s when you ask, “Are you sure? I didn’t get a chance to shower after swimming…”

“Don’t care,” he murmurs against your core, sending vibrations through you.

You shudder at the sensation and let him continue, relaxing a little. His tongue works small slow circles around your clit as you raise your hips a little, pressing them more on his face in response to his touch. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you even closer into him. With his arms around your thighs you can’t squirm as much but that also lets him press his lips, tongue and nose directly into your cunt, bringing you closer to orgasm. You cum against his face, coating him with your release, soaking his nose, lips, chin… practically the whole lower half of his face. He laps up the rest of your juices before bringing his face by yours.

“You taste so good, darlin’. Ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.”

You feel your cheeks go hot at his praise. He goes to take off his shorts and asks, “Did you want me to use a condom?” 

“That’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you say, still feeling a little breathless.

He chuckles at the post orgasm inflection in your voice and says, “Okay, darlin’.”

You spread your legs for him and he gathers your release from your cunt on his fingers. You shudder at the sensation. He slicks his already hard cock and aligns himself with your entrance, thrusting into you slowly until you take all of his length. His hands grasp your waist as he begins to fuck you relentlessly, burying his cock deep into you with each slam of his hips. He showers you in praise, telling you how you’re such a good girl for taking his cock so well. All you can do is moan and whimper in response. 

You’re sure your neighbors can hear between the creaks of your bed frame, both of your moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. But you’re entirely too blissed out to care. With one last forceful motion of his hips against yours you come undone, your cunt fluttering around his cock. Your orgasm pulsates through your core and sends shockwaves throughout your body. Before both of you know it he’s releasing his load inside you, painting your inside in thick ropes of cum as he lets out a guttural moan. He pulls out of you and immediately starts apologizing but you just laugh.

“That’s what the pill’s for,” you chuckle. 

He lays down next to you on the bed and already starts yawning. 

“You can crash here if you want,” you say, “But you owe me a finished book shelf in the morning,” you chuckle. 

“Whatever you want, darlin’. Tomorrow’s my day off,” he murmurs against you, the sleepiness evident in his voice. 

“Deal,” you whisper, before drifting off to sleep yourself. 

You wake up the next morning wrapped in bedsheets and the scent of Joel Miller as he sleeps pressed against you. The realization of last night’s decisions is setting in and while the anxiety in your gut rises, something about it also feels so right. You peel yourself off of him and go to the bathroom. He stirs and wakes up watching your naked form from behind as he whistles at the sight. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, “Hope you’re ready to build that bookshelf.”

“Oh I’ll get right on it, darlin’,” he says, sneaking up on you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean back against him and close your eyes. All of your anxieties and hangs ups about the situation melt away as he holds you in front of your bathroom mirror. He presses a kiss on the top of your head and goes to work on your bookshelf. You make him a cup of coffee and bring it to him after you brush your teeth. He gets the bookshelf done in no time and the two of you are left with the rest of your Saturday, completely free. You decide to take a shower together, washing each other in this new form of intimacy. You realize he doesn’t have any other clothes to change into so that’s when he has the idea to walk back to the Y, pick up his truck and head back to his house. You throw on your clothes and get ready to walk back to his truck, silently hoping the parking lot wouldn’t be too busy this morning. What would people say if they saw you two walking to his truck together? If he’s in an open marriage, though, does it even matter?

Before you leave he says, “You stay here. I’ll come back for you.”

You nod and wait for him in the lobby of your building. He pulls up front and you hop in the passenger seat. Awkward silence fills the drive until you get to his house. He brings you inside and leads you to his bedroom. You look at the pictures of him and Liz while he packs. You’re staring at a wedding photo when you think to ask, “So how long have you been in an open marriage?”

He pauses for a moment and says, “Only about a year. I found out she was cheating on me and I proposed the idea of an open marriage instead of getting a divorce.”

You’re conflicted. You feel bad for him that he went through that but he also seems happy now, content with his decision on an open marriage as far as you can tell. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “That must’ve been really hard for you.”

“It was,” he replies, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “But I’m doing much better now. I don’t tell a lot of people about the open marriage, though. My friends and family still don’t know because it’ll open a whole line of questioning as to how we got here. And then I’ll have to tell them how she cheated on me and I just… I don’t think I can do that.”

He sounds hurt; betrayed. You turn around to face him and meet his eyes, filled with sadness, and say, “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Thank you,” he whispers before kissing you, “Come on. Let’s go have a fun weekend together. I packed enough clothes to get me to work Monday morning.”

“Okay,” you nod, following him back down the stairs. 

At least they don't have kids, you think to yourself. That would make this situation about a million times messier. 

You get back his truck and drive back to your place, the tension in the air dissipated after his heartfelt confession. You spend the rest of the weekend together going through a cycle of fucking, watching TV, showering and talking. You learn so much about him and his background; his family, where he grew up, what he does for a living. He tells you everything and you feel you can tell him everything, too. The connection you feel with him is one you’ve never felt with anyone else before. It almost makes you forget for a moment that he’s married to another woman. 

But now it’s Monday and your fun weekend with Joel has come to an end. He has two long days at work ahead of him so you can’t go to the Y together until Wednesday night. You’re a little sad but you get it. He can’t spend all of his waking hours with you. The next two days drag on and after you get home from work you find yourself feeling lonely. And it doesn’t help that your sheets smell like him. 

But after two agonizingly slow days you finally get to see him again. You walk to the Y with a little pep in your step at the thought of seeing him again. You find him in the lobby and he greets you with a smile.

“I thought I’d swim with you today instead,” he says. 

“Sure,” you tell him before both of you walk to the pool room together, separating as each of you enter your respective locker rooms. You change quickly and meet him by the pool which by some miracle was completely empty tonight. You get in the pool with him and swim a few laps but mainly the two of you spend time messing around. Until he pulls you close and looks you in the eye. The heat of the pool room and his hot breath are almost too much to bear. But then he kisses you and suddenly you forget all about how you are. The kiss grows more and more passionate and you start to worry that someone will walk in and see.  You pull away to tell him to stop but he grabs your hand and leads up the pool steps. 

“What are you doing?” you ask as your bare feet hit the slick tile. 

“Going somewhere more private,” he says leading you to the single stall bathroom on the same wall as the locker rooms. 

“Here?” you question him.

“Why not? It’s empty tonight,” he says, opening the bathroom door, “Ladies first.”

You go in the bathroom and he follows you, locking the door behind him. He wastes no time reaching for the strap of your swimsuit and peeling it off of you. He slides off his swim trunks and you bring your hand to his cock, caressing it lightly to tease him.

“You’re killin’ me, darlin’. Please,” he whispers by your ear.

You giggle and give into him, wrapping as much of your hand as you can around his cock. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, closing his eyes in pleasure. 

You love making him feel good and you especially love when he vocalizes it. You spit in your hand and stroke him more, picking up the pace. But before he can finish he stops you and licks his fingers, bringing them to the entrance of your cunt and teasing you this time. You whine at the featherlight touch and beg for more. 

“Doesn’t feel so good huh darlin’?” he teases. 

“Please,” you whine. 

“Fine,” he sighs, sounding fake annoyed before pushing a finger into you slowly. 

You lean back against the sink and spread your legs wider for him, begging for more. He gets off on watching you writhe in pleasure from just one finger before slipping in another. He curls them upwards, emitting soft moans from you as he brings you closer to the edge. But before you can cum he pulls them out of you and slathers his cock with your wetness. You whine at the sudden absence but you’re cut off by the sensation of his cock slamming into you. Your breath hitches and he watches you get adjusted to his size, eyes scanning up and down your body from your face to your tits to your cunt gripping his cock. He supports you against the edge of the sink and pumps into you with more force. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly with every slam of his hips. You know you’re not going to last long between that and the adrenaline of fucking in a public space. Your orgasm washes over you as your cunt grips and releases his cock like a vice. He releases his load into you and you’re filled with the familiar sensation of his cum coating your insides. He pulls out of you and places a sloppy kiss on your lips before whispering, “Good girl.”

He helps you stand on your feet and you both go to put your swimsuits back on. 

“I’ll go first, okay?” he says. 

You nod and he swiftly leaves the bathroom, locking the door behind him. You wait a few minutes before leaving the bathroom and returning to a thankfully empty pool room. 

“Change and go home?” he says, looking over at you.

You nod and go into the locker room to change, in disbelief that this is your life and that Joel Miller just fucked you in a bathroom at the Y. This would become your routine for the next two weeks until Liz comes home, fucking at the Y, your place and even his. Something about doing it as his house felt slightly wrong though. And you know exactly why but you choose to bury that feeling. 

It’s the night before Liz comes home from her work trip and you’re at your apartment, spending one last night together until he has to go home to his wife. 

“When will we do this again?” you ask hopefully. 

“I’ll let you know when, darlin’,” he says with the gentlest tone. 

You nod and your stomach starts to hurt, worrying at the possibility that this was it for the two of you. 

Liz is officially home and you’ll see her at the pool tonight. You have mixed feelings about it. Two weeks ago you would’ve been excited to reunite with your new friend. But now after learning everything you know you’re not sure about how you feel about her. 

You walk to the Y and your legs feel like jelly. You’re also nervous to face her again after everything that happened with you and Joel and it makes you wonder… Did he tell her about the two of you? Is he planning on it if he hasn’t already? Regardless, you're not going to be the one to tell her. He’s the one married to her; he can do it himself. 

She greets you with a warm smile in the locker room, commenting about how she was in need of a good workout. You just smile and nod, for fear that if you open your mouth you’re going to spill everything to her. 

You swim together and keep the conversation mainly about her work trip. She tells you she has to go on another one in two weeks and you fear that that will be the next time Joel will want you. 

You finish your laps and change in the locker room before meeting Joel in the lobby. He treats you differently around her, like he did when you first met him two weeks ago. You watch them walk to their separate cars before walking home. The realization hits you on the way back. He’s not going to be yours for at least two weeks. 

You were correct in your assumption. The second Liz leaves he’s calling you up, asking if he can come over. And you give in without thinking. 

You open your door when he arrives and let him in before asking, “How long is she gone this time?”

“Just a week,” he says softly. 

Before the mood can shift into a more depressing tone he wraps his arms around you and presses wet, sloppy kisses on your neck. You missed him too much to care about how upset you are deep down, letting him take you again tonight. 

You go into your bedroom and he pushes you down onto the bed. He pulls off your shorts and he spreads your thighs apart. 

“God, I missed this so much,” he says before bringing his tongue to your core. 

You close your eyes and grips the sheets for purchases as his tongue works your cunt. He pulls one orgasm out of you quickly and already begins working on the second. He slicks his fingers and inserts them into you slowly before returning his tongue to your clit. It’s almost to the point of overstimulation until your second orgasm washes over you. You coat the lower half of his face and his hand all the way down to his wrist with your release. He lays on the bed next to you as your thighs continue to shiver from the aftershocks of your high. You go to reach for the waistband of his shorts but he stops you.

“Tonight’s just you darlin’.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhmm. Missed you so much.”

You kiss his cheek and fall into the crook of his neck. He rubs your back as you two catch up, telling each other about the past two weeks without one another. You missed him so much and the voice in your head is small enough to ignore it again.

And this becomes your routine for the summer. Whenever Liz is away Joel is yours. Sometimes she’s gone for a couple weeks at a time. Sometimes it’s just a few days. She’s also not always going away for work either. Joel tells you she visits her boyfriend, too. Which in return makes you less guilty about your situation with Joel. But you also feel weird about becoming her friend so you keep her at an arm’s length, beget letting the friendship transcending past the Y. You’ve made other friends in the process, though, upstairs in the gym. You use the gym on the days you know for sure that he won’t be there, usually Mondays and Tuesdays. 

One day as you’re on the elliptical a girl named Julien strikes up a conversation with you. She’s a year older than you and she introduces you to her girlfriend, Angela. Another day when you’re using the pool, you meet an older woman, old enough to be your grandmother, named Agnes. She does water aerobics to keep herself active in her older age. She tells you that you remind her of her granddaughter. She’s one of your favorite people to spend time with. Another day as you’re walking through the lobby as you’re leaving you accidentally bump into a woman named Marina. She’s a teacher at the local elementary school. Sometimes you’ll join her for happy hour after work. Even if you’re in a messy situation with Joel you’re glad that you finally have a small cluster of friends. But the thing is… They’re all close to Liz in some way. Marina went to the same sorority as Liz. Agnes’s husband worked with Liz’s father. And Julien is Liz’s cousin. None of them have mentioned anything about Liz and Joel being in an open marriage. But then you think back to what Joel said; about keeping it on the down low and that quells your anxieties… for now. 

This routine brings you all the way to the start of fall. Joel’s birthday passes and Liz is home for that, meaning you can’t celebrate with him until her next work trip in a few days. She’ll be gone for five days this time. 

He wants you to stay with him while she’s gone and you reluctantly agree. You’ve never spent more than one night at his place. But the truth is… you’ve fallen in love with him. And you would do anything to make him happy. 

You pack your bag and he picks you up at your apartment. The drive to his place is tense and the tension follows you all the way up to his bedroom where it finally dissipates.

You push him down onto the edge of the bed for him to sit. You slide his pants down where you see his cock pitching a tent in his boxers, a dark spot forming where the pre cum is leaking. You pull down his boxers and waste no time taking him in your mouth as far as he can go. Your hand wraps around the part you can’t fit. You swirl your tongue around his head and your other hand goes to cup his balls. You want to suck him until completion but he has other plans. He pulls you up his face and brings you in for a sloppy kiss before falling onto his back. And you know exactly what he wants. You pull your shirt over your head and take off your pants, straddling him until you sink onto his cock. Both of you sigh at the sensation and you begin to rock your hips against him. His cock is buried deep inside you and with every motion of your hips it hits you at the perfect angle. Your hands are flat on his chest and his hands grip your waist, squeezing you until you cum around him, soaking his cock and groin with your wet release. You’re filled with the familiar sensation of his cum spilling into you before you hop off of him and lay down beside him. 

“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he sighs, kissing the top of your head. 

You’ve never been with someone that made you feel so loved and valued like Joel has. And that’s what breaks your heart the most. This is the greatest love you’ve ever known and he’s married to someone else. 

You fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up the next morning to go to the Y. You tell him to drop you off at your place so you can walk there, so it doesn’t look suspicious. But he doesn’t care. You feel a pit form in your stomach. Someone is going to catch you two together and you know it. And it begs the question… is it really an open marriage if he has to hide you from everyone in his life? That thought has crossed your mind before, of course. But you’ve been able to bury that feeling down… until now. 

He pulls into the parking lot and you scan it for anyone you may know. But that’s pointless. Everyone here knows Joel and Liz are married. 

You get out of the truck the whole walk to the front door your head is spinning in different directions in paranoia. Joel brings a hand to the small of your back as you walk in. The automatic doors slide open and you see no one you know fortunately. 

You go to the pool together and walk to the locker rooms, there’s small clusters of people spread about but again no one you know. You get changed in the women’s locker room and your paranoia worsens. You step back out to the pool room and your ears start ringing. You’re on the brink of a panic attack. Joel takes one look at you and immediately knows something’s up. He pulls you into the single stall bathroom that you’ve fucked dozens of times in and caresses your face. He doesn’t have to say anything. He knows you’re not doing well and all he can do is hold you. Just when you think you’re about to calm down the door opens. He forgot to lock it. And you see none other than Julien staring at you wide eyed and mouth agape. She doesn’t know what to do for a moment and you’re both staring back at her while she stares at you. You feel like you’re gonna throw up. Suddenly she turns on her heel and bolts. Without thinking you follow her and she goes all the way to the parking lot. She stops and turns to face you, tears springing in her eyes. 

“Don’t tell me it’s true,” she says.

What did she mean by that? Were guys suspected of being involved? Were you guys not careful enough?

“I… You don’t understand. He told me they’re in an open marriage. I never would’ve…” you trail off, but you can’t lie to her. 

She scoffs and says, “Did you really fall for that? You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid. He’s already cheated on Liz once and that was his lie the first time.” 

You feel complete panic overtake you in its purest form. Everything you’ve built, every friendship you made feels like it’s all coming crashing down on you. 

She goes to leave and you go to follow her again before she turns and snaps at you, “Don’t!” 

You watch her get in her car and drive off and you’re left in the parking lot, completely dumbfounded. 

You go back inside as you start profusely sobbing, trying to make it back to the locker room with your head down. You feel like everyone is staring at you; like you have a million eyes all hyper focused on you. You don’t see Joel when you return to the pool room but in all honesty he’s the last person you want to see right now. You hastily change in the locker room and go to leave the pool room and that’s when you spot Agnes in the shallow end. She doesn’t even have to say anything, she has the most disappointed look on her face. Tears sting your eyes once again and you practically run out of there and into the parking lot. You stop for a moment to catch your breath before taking off down the street towards home. You reach your door and your hands are shaking as you insert the key. You fall into your apartment and collapse onto the floor. The shock and betrayal you feel right now is indescribable; it’s a pain you’ve never known before. You lost the person you love and all of the friends you’ve made. All of it slipped away from you right before your eyes. 

Not only are you feeling betrayed, you’re also feeling like the biggest fucking idiot in the world. You gave him the greatest love you’ve ever given another person and it was all built on lies. And you feel stupid for falling for those lies. 

You hear your door open but you don’t bother to look up. You know it’s Joel but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. He collapses on the floor and pulls you into him. But you’re falling apart in his arms. He’s holding you like you’re going to slip away from him; like you’re water in his hands and he can’t keep you whole. Your tears are soaking his shirt and you can feel him crying against you, too. 

Somewhere inside you you know that he never understood the love you gave him. He’s crying but he doesn’t understand why. 

To you, your love was your greatest gift to him. But to Joel, it was anything but. 

[eroticomens]

(i wanted love, i needed love) most of all

in which Logan casually says 'i love you' and Wade talks about The Lion King a normal amount. set after my fic Empty With You but works on its own as just stupid cute fluff~ Wade’s always envisioned the first time Logan says ‘I love you’ would be a dramatic declaration, most likely mid-nasty, at which point they would switch from nasty and shift gears to making love. It’s a pretty common fantasy in his brain. Never fails to leave his hands sticky and his heart even stickier. 

He doesn’t need Logan to say it. He wants him to, more than anything in the world, but he’s learning how to be less of a brat these days. …Trying to, anyway. So he doesn’t push, doesn’t prod. He just tells Logan that he loves him every chance he gets, and takes the kisses, hugs, and affectionate smiles he receives in return. 

Logan’s headed off for work. It’s a stupidly early shift. It’s 5 AM, the actual asscrack of dawn, and he’s lacing up his boots while Wade makes him coffee in a thermos (definitely not spiked with whiskey) and stuffs it into his lunch box, along with a turkey sandwich that’s mostly meat.

Wade plops the sticker suffocated lunch box down on the couch next to Logan, leaning against the armrest and wrapping Logan’s bathrobe tighter around himself. He’s got his own, of course, but Logan’s is just comfier. 

“Whatcha buildin’ today, Peanut? Casino? Old folks home? Walk-in STD clinic? Combination of all of the above? Blind Al will be thrilled.” Wade chatters. 

A single soft laugh. “Same thing we been workin’ on all week. The overpass down by Jacob’s Convenience.” 

“Are they, though– convenient? I’d categorize a thirty minute walk as a Hassle.” 

“Maybe not. But they got good cigars.” Wolvie shrugs, standing to leave. 

He makes his way to the door with Wade in tow, as usual. “Don’t forget your lunch, sugar tits.” Wade rattles the box behind him. 

“Thanks, angel.” Logan says with a smile. His fingers are warm and rough and familiar as they brush Wade’s to take his lunch. Then he cups Wade’s cheek in his free hand and gives him a chaste kiss. “I’ll be back around 6. Try not to miss me too much.” 

“I’m not making any promises.” Wade stands on his tippy toes to give Logan another kiss. The only time Logie gets to be taller is when he’s got his work boots on and Wade’s barefoot. Wade might enjoy it a little too much. “Love you.” He says as he pulls away like he always does. 

But today, Logan replies: “Love you, too.” And even though it’s the middle of winter, his world blooms like spring. He swears he smells flowers and sunshine, like the words themselves have taken root in his soul. 

[Hold the fuck up. Was that a typo, author? Are you fucking with us right now? We will fucking gut your pumpkin seed munching ass–]

He must look as flabbergasted as he feels, because Logan tilts his head. “…Y’okay there?” 

“You said it,” Wade says flatly at first… then with much more enthusiasm as it sinks in. “You said it!!” He squeals and leaps into Logan’s arms, long limbs encircling Logan’s shoulders and waist as he buries his face in the other man’s neck. 

Logan’s deep, rich laughter vibrates through every bone in his body and makes his dying cells feel alive. “Yeah….Guess I did…” 

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. Wade tells himself, but it’s too late. He’s already sniffling into Logan’s shirt as the other man rubs his upper back soothingly. “Don’t go to work,” He says softly. Logan’s quiet for a minute, clearly weighing the options in his head. “Wade…” “Don’t go,” Wade pleads, kissing his neck and nuzzling into him. This draws a long, resigned sigh from his lover, and Wade grins against his skin triumphantly. “Stay home with me. Say there was an emergency. Say your father died and you had to move to the jungle for a few years and eat bugs, but you’re back to reclaim the throne from your uncle Scar–” “Wade.” Logan interrupts. “Yeah?” “You’re an idiot. …and I love you.” Wade’s feet wiggle and his toes curl in uncontainable excitement, like Logan’s words are electric. He grips the other man tightly with his thighs and leans back to grab his face and pull him into a kiss– a real kiss, with tongue and a greedy little nibble of Logan’s bottom lip at the end. He can feel Logan trying to smile. “Why now? Why today?” Wade can’t help but ask. There’s a short pause while Logan assembles his thoughts. Wade’s used to giving him an extra minute to articulate his feelings, so he just strokes his kitty cat’s hair affectionately, earning a soft rumble. 

[It’s a goddamn purr.] ((But Wolvie doesn’t like when we call it that...)) [Can’t stop us from saying it inside.]

Wade stifles a tiny giggle.

“Think I been sayin’ it back in my head for months. Just…actually came out today.”

Wade wrinkles his nose and blinks fresh tears from his eyes. “Stop. I’m losing my fucking mind right now. God, I love you so much, you big beautiful bastard. Please tell me you’re gonna stay home so we can roll around in the grass and fuck like lions?”

Logan laughs again, hugging him close. “Alright, alright. I won’t go to work today, Red.”

“Oh, you’re going to work, alright, Simba.” Wade grins, still watery eyed. ”On this ass.” 

[jaybirdluvr73]

You're my Best Friend (nanami kento x reader)

A longer fic version of this

Best friends to lovers with Nanami Kento. Fluff, a little tiny bit of angst but a Happy ending. Mild spoilers. Set in the early 2000s. I was thinking about what to call this and became inspired by the song "You are in love" by Taylor Swift

a/n: this is my first fic like this, i hope you guys like it. Feedback is super appreciated <3

"You're a…what?", you say in disbelief, trying to figure out if your normally level headed best friend has officially gone insane.

"A sorcerer", Kento says slowly, as if he hasn't fully accepted it either. "In the world, there's cursed energy and some people, sorcerers, are capable of using it. Usually to fight curses." 

Your mouth hangs agape as you wonder if this is some prank he's playing on you. But Kento has never lied to you before. (although he's never claimed monsters and sorcerers were real either.)

"I believe you", you say finally, to Kento's relief, "I mean this sounds completely insane but I trust you."

He finally cracks a small smile before frowning as he remembers something. "That's not all"

"What? Don't tell me aliens are real too"

"They want me to go to a school that trains sorcerers" he swallows before continuing, "in Tokyo"

You feel your heart stop as you realise that means you'll hardly see him anymore. Ever since preschool, the one constant in your life has been Nanami Kento. Sitting in class, eating lunch, walking home, no matter what you did or where you were, he was always by your side. 

You can't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with him, you just remember waking up one day and knowing. Maybe it was when he would ask the teachers questions for you in preschool, or in elementary school when he tried to bake you a cake by himself for your birthday. It might have been when he started reading all your favourite books so he could talk about them with you or when he spent half an hour trying to win you a teddy bear at an arcade. You may not know when you fell in love with him but you do know that loving Nanami Kento came as naturally as breathing.

"Promise you'll come back to visit", you say, trying to offer a smile. He nods, swearing that he'll never break a promise to you.

Nanami Kento remembers the exact moment he fell in love with you. It was fourth grade and your tenth birthday was coming up. He spent days looking up recipes and baking tutorials so that he could bake you the perfect cake. He spent hours on it. By the time he finished, his mom joked that there was more flour on him than in the cake but it was worth it to see the look on your face when he sowed it to you. The cake didn’t turn out great, the layers were uneven, the frosting was grainy and the entire thing was lopsided. When you saw it, you immediately started tearing up. At first he started apologising because he thought it was so bad that it made you cry. But then you threw your arms around his shoulders smiling widely and told him that nobody had ever done something so nice for you before. From that moment he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making you smile like that. 

“- and  I put some of the new Fall Out Boy songs on the playlist too. The new album isn’t their best but”, you stop as you see a strange look on his face. “What’s wrong Ken?” 

“Nothing’s wrong it’s just,” he pauses then says, “You’re my best friend”

“The cheesecake was good but I think next time I want to try the brownie”, you say, shivering as you step outside the new bakery Kento brought you to. “I told you to bring a jacket, " he says, frowning while he takes off his sweater to give you. 

“I didn’t think it would be this cold!” you say trying to defend yourself as you tell him to keep his sweater on so he doesn’t freeze. “I’m not feeling that cold anyway”, he says as he forces the soft material into your hands. 

You put it on, closing your eyes as you feel the warm embrace of the fabric. “It smells like you”, you say before clarifying, “in a good way, I mean.” He just laughs and shakes his head before walking you back home. 

He laughs the same way years later, when you reveal that you slept in the sweater for a week, only stopping once it didn’t smell like him anymore. 

“Kento I know you’re in there!”, you shout, knocking on his bedroom door. “Your mom told me you were home.” He opens the door with a sigh before looking down at you and asking what you were doing here. As he gazes at you, you notice the deep eyebags that weren't there before, and a hardness in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. 

“I’m here because my best friend disappeared! Because you haven’t responded to my texts, or IMs or emails for weeks and I needed to know that you were okay”

“Well you can see that I’m fine. Thank you for checking on me, but you can go now.”

“Fine? Really” , you scoff, pushing your way into the dark room. “You won’t talk to me, your parents told me that you barely say a word to them and you clearly haven’t been sleeping! I want to help you Ken. I want to be there for you but you keep pushing me away.” Your voice softens before you continue, “I know you and Haibara were really close. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now”

“Exactly, you don’t know how I’m feeling right now and I hope that you never do”, he yells , “I’ve seen what this life can do to people, I’ve seen the toll it takes on the people left behind. I could die at any moment while on a mission, and I don’t want you to have to feel that kind of loss! I love you too much to put you through that! It’s better this way.” 

“Better for who Kento? Because I’m already miserable without you and you don’t seem to be doing much better! I know that being a sorcerer is dangerous and that something could happen to you. But isn’t it better to have loved and lost than to live life alone, because you’re worried about what might happen?”, you feel tears welling in your eyes before you continue, “I’m in love with you Kento and I don’t care how risky your life is. I’m willing to face any amount of pain if it means keeping you in my life. I would rather have you, and risk losing you, than not have you and lose you anyway.”

Kento feels his world stop spinning as soon as the words ‘I’m in love with you’ spill out of your lips. His mouth hangs open as he tries to figure out what to say. The only words that he manages to get out are, “Can I kiss you” as he leans closer. You nod slowly as you move towards him. 

You can feel his breath tickle your face before his lips finally descend to capture yours. Something warm grows in his chest, like the first flowers of spring blooming after a long winter. The entire world around him disappears as he feels your soft lips dancing against his own. His hands move gently to cup your face as he deepens the kiss. You snake your arms around his waist, feeling the soft caress of his hands on your cheeks. Feelings left unsaid for years come bubbling up and overflows.

When you two finally break apart to breathe, you notice a familiar look in his eyes. And this time, you knew what it was. 

He is in love

a/n: I'm not a huge fan of the title banner i made but lmk what you guys think.

tag list: @jasminelee324

[boytearscore]

his obsession, her control. — matthew sturniolo.

summary: because ever since he met his brothers' best friend, he hated her to the core by the way she dressed, talked and presented herself. he thought she was just an attention seeker while claiming to be the only immune guy to her dirty games. that is until the morning chris and nick decided to go out and get groceries by themselves, since matt himself refused to drive them to target, he was left all alone with her, unfortunately for the blue eyed boy, his strong belief of being an exception when it comes to fall for her dangerous charm was completely erroneous.

warnings: swearing, teasing/arguing (matt being a jerk mostly), enemies to lovers but sort of he hates her while she finds his tantrums amusing, smut, bratty!matt, blowjob, facefucking, foreplay, agressiveness and a lot of dirtytalk.

author’s note: before y’all start to hate me, i came home from work yesterday and had NO wifi nor data to post the chapter. still, i apologize for the delay. also, comment and tell me what you think about this new plot, the main character is gonna teach you that just because a girl is dominating, doesn’t mean she can’t play the submissive role to get her ways faster. ;)

chapter one.

the girl sighs slowly spreading her legs over the couch, it’s been only ten minutes since chris and nick left and she already felt like melting with boredom, not finding anything or anyone interesting to see or text on her phone.

her eyes shift slowly around the house, stopping right at the door slightly open of matthew’s room, her best friends’ annoying brother. it’s been years and she still didn’t believe they were triplets, how can matt be so awfully different from them? usually she doesn’t interact much with him except when he gives her disappointing and judging glares while they’re both in the same room. instead of angering her, she always finds it amusing and always provoke him until he’s red with anger.

that’s when the brilliant idea pops up in her pretty little head, what if she breaks into matt’s room to make him absolutely lose his shit? that’s enough to entertain her while her best friends are out for a couple hours, right?

while tiptoeing and holding a mischievous laugh, she peeks through the gap to study her target. matt is resting, laying on his bed with hair falling over his eyes and still wearing his pyjamas even though it was afternoon, his arm behind his neck making his muscles visibly flexed by the position, at the same time the other one is placed over his stomach, scrolling on his phone peacefully. 

she stares at his tattoos and the veins of his arm, it wasn’t a secret matt was attractive, in fact, she didn’t feel the need to say otherwise because one; hating him wasn’t a possibility, she couldn’t care less about his childish behavior, it was actually pretty funny and that gave her lots of opportunities to tease him. and two: nothing was more satisfying than seeing his jaw clenched and his bratty attitude rising when she provoked him.

“get out.” he says without looking at the door, being able to feel her presence due to her sweet and addicting scent.

she chuckles, entering and closing the door behind her calmly. “you know… i wasn’t gonna stay but now that you told me to get out...” her exposed legs by the black miniskirt make its way to his bed, sitting on the edge, her smooth skin complimenting the white sheets while her skirt molded perfectly her thighs.

matt rolls his eyes again “i don't care what you do, just don't bother me while i’m trying to relax.” he continues on his phone, not even glancing at the girl’s relaxed figure. “what do you want, anyway? nick and chris had enough of you and now you came here to annoy me? you’re really good at that, you know.“ he smirks sarcastically.

“oh, i’m very aware.” she crawls to the other edge of the bed close to the wall, leaning against it, her legs brushing against his feet slightly without her noticing.

matt, however, did notice it. in fact, his whole shivered body noticed it.

“and don’t pretend like you hate it when i’m here.”

the blue eyed boy scoffs and moves his feet away from her. “oh, i don’t have to pretend, i can barely stand being in the same room as you most of the time.” he sets his phone down and finally looks at her, giving her the a once-over with his typical critical eye, he stares at her tank top and then at her uncovered stomach and thighs. “what’s with the short skirt, huh? trying to impress someone? it’s not like anyone here would be interested in a girl like you, anyway.” matt smirks arrogantly. “especially not me. so you can stop trying so hard, it’s pathetic.”

“it’s fucking 95° degrees.” she replied with her usual nonchalant tone while grabbing her phone to check her lip gloss. “and i wouldn’t be so sure about that, your friends are more than interested. everytime they come here to hangout with you, they spend more time thirsting over me than talking to your boring ass.” she added, drawing her lips with a finger and laughing a little at her own comment at the same time. matt finds himself glazing at her lips, the way she draws her reddish glossy flesh with her finger without a worry, like her moves were calculated. to him, it seemed like she doesn’t feel anything, no matter what he says.

he snaps from the trance, shaking his head and frowning at her words.

his friends indeed spend more time eating her alive with their eyes than paying attention to him when she is around with nick and chris, which made matt crazy with rage. all of the groans and death glares he gives her every single time just proving her point without needing to add much.

matt finally narrows his eyes, anger building inside him little by little. “don’t even fucking start with them. they’re too good for your stupid annoying personality.” he leans back against his headboard, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at the girl pointedly. “it doesnt matter, you’re just asking for attention dressed like that, regardless. typical slutty behavior from a girl like you.” the boy sneers derisively. “probably hoping one of us will bend you over and teach you a lesson, huh? too bad. i have standards, unlike my idiotic friends, apparently... they’ll fuck anything that moves. not me though. i need a real woman, not some immature whore.” he smirks cruelly. “unluckily for you, i’m not interested in sloppy seconds. or thirds.”

oh, the good and old fragile masculinity. the girl smirks, her eyes shifting to dark manner.

“is that so?” she leans over his legs, placing both hands on his tights covered by his grey sweatpants, her long black nails digging slightly into his skin while her penetrating gaze stares at his soul, the boy’s body tensed up and she scoffs. “what’s wrong? are you too insecure to handle a confident woman?” matt freezes for a second almost vocally responding to the sensation of her nails digging into his flesh, he swallows avoiding her eyes with a mix of rage and anticipation.

the girl studies his expression, feeling his tights tensing up more and more underneath her fingers. she bends back to her previous spot laughing quietly, her unbothered expression and nonchalant tone still not changing. “if you think that a piece of fabric defines a woman’s worth then you’re nothing but a virgin little boy who probably gets hard watching cartoons.” she gets up, walking towards the door, turning her head to face him before leaving. “you know… there’s a big difference between being an asshole and just a straight up sexist. i was wrong about you and sadly not in a good way.” she opens the door and closes it behind her, calmly walking to the living room and sitting on the huge white couch once again. the girl unlocks her phone, scrolling without paying attention to the screen. mentally, she was counting the seconds to see matthew’s figure bursting out of his room and scream at the top of his lungs. the corner of her mouth quirked up with excitement.

meanwhile, matthew stares blankly at her ghost in front of him, processing her words. he grits his teeth, face turning red with anger. 

the tall boy jumps up from the bed and storms out of the room after her, heading straight to the living room, her calm and collected mannerism making his neck vein pop up with annoyance. “fuck you! you don't know shit about me!” matt stands in front of the girl, hands on his hips as he glares down at where she sits on the couch. “i’m not insecure nor a virgin, you stupid cunt! and i’m not a little boy either! i’m a grown-ass man who knows what he wants! unlike you, who clearly has no self-respect dressing like a fucking hooker.” his voice is rising with each word, his temper flaring out of control. he takes a step closer, looming over her menacingly. 

she laughs amusedly, getting up from the couch without a hush, her eyes not backing down from his one second.

their faces are inches apart, his nostrils flare as she invades his personal space, his breath hitching slightly at how close she is. he can smell her scent again with the mix of her mint warm breath hitting his face and watch the flecks of pure darkness in her eyes. it makes him even angrier that she affects him this way.

“then why are you yelling and being so defensive?” she tilts her head, pursing her lips to mock him. “did i hit a nerve, little boy?”

matt laughs sarcastically, rubbing his face in frustration.

“i’m not defensive, you fucking psycho! i’m pissed off because you're a delusional bitch who thinks she can talk to people however she wants without consequences!” his voice drops to a low growl as he stares intensely into her eyes, his own blazing with fury and something else he refuses to acknowledge. “think you're so sly, so above everyone else, huh? sorry to break your little ‘i don’t care’ attitude but you're nothing special. just another dumb slut looking for a man to put you in your place.” matt reaches out and grips her chin roughly, forcing her to maintain eye contact with him. she gasps with his aggressiveness while smirking, still not being affected by his words. 

“oh, i don’t think i’m above anyone else.” she leads her hand to his chest, creeping up to the neck and he tightens the grip on her chin, his pulse racing beneath her fingers. “i just think i’m better than guys who judges people based on clothes. you know? the ones who probrably will stay alone and horny forever?” her challenge only fuels his anger further and he leans in even closer until their noses are nearly touching, making her smirk wider. ”guys like… you.” he groans, sliding his other hand up to wrap around her throat loosely, applying just enough pressure in an attempt to make her submit once and for all, but it was too late. she was getting inside his head without even trying too much and he had no idea. “see, you’re calling me a slut for the way i dress but i bet you can’t name one guy i’ve dated.’’

“you’re right, i don't know who you've fucked. but i know your type, always throwing yourself at guys, desperate for validation. you probably spread your legs for the first dick that shows interest, don't you?” he replies right away, his words heavy with irritation. “face it, sweetheart - you're a pathetic little tease who gets off on driving guys crazy. well, congratulations, mission accomplished. you’re driving ME crazy alright... but not in the way you wanted.”

the girl lets out a small giggle, ignoring all the offensive comments, her mind floating with the thought of all the words she’s gonna make him swallow later. this by itself was awfully turning her on, but she manages to hide it well by her unconcerned expression.

“it’s so funny the way you’re affected by my words while trying so hard not to show it.” the girl takes her hand away from his neck, crossing her arms. “and i didn’t even try anything. i just replied to your brainless incel comments and you got mad because you have nothing else to say besides calling me an attention seeker.” she shrugs, her gaze still on him while she feels his fingers flexing around her slender throat.

matt snorts derisively at her words, her neck veins pulsing underneath his digits. he knows she's affected by him too, no matter how much she tries to hide it.

‘’oh please, spare me the bullshit. you live for this kind of thing… pissing people off, pushing buttons until they snap. well, i’m not falling for your sick games.’’ he releases her abruptly and steps back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. his heart pounds wildly in his chest but he refuses to let it show on his face.“get the hell out of my sight before i do something we both regret. trust me, you don't want to test me right now. i’m not one of your little boy toys to play with whenever you feel bored.’’

the corner of her lips went up with a smirk, she quietly sneaks behind matt who is currently facing his door, trying to control the anger and arouse inside him.

the girl lifts her feet up a little to reach his ear. “and what exactly are we going to regret, matt?” she whispers, brushing her lips against his lobe.

matt freezes as he feels her warm breath ghosting over his ear, her lips barely grazing his skin. every muscle in his body tenses, his fists clenching at his sides as he fights the urge to grab her and throw her onto the nearest surface.

‘’fuck you, get off me!’’ he snaps, shrugging her off roughly and spinning around to face her. his eyes blaze with barely contained lust and fury as he backs her up against the wall, caging her in with his arms. ‘’fine. let's play this fucking game, but don’t fool yourself. this is MY game, not yours. see if you can handle the consequences.’’ matt leans in, capturing her mouth in a brutal kiss before biting at her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, she moans with the mixture of pain and pleasure, the taste of blood only making her more aroused by second. 

her arms wrap around his neck, one hand reaches his hair, grabbing and pulling back in a sharp grip to make him face her. “is that all you can do?” she asks, gasping with her mouth slightly open, a little blood stain painting her swallowed lips red. “guess i was right about you just being a virgin little boy.” the girl smirks, tightening the grip on his hair more aggressively, a low growl rumbles in matt's chest, the sharp sting only serving to inflame his desire further. 

he presses himself fully on her, grinding his already hard cock against her hip as he grabs both wrists and pins them above her head roughly. ‘’you fucking tease, you have no idea what i’m capable of.’’ he rasps, trailing biting kisses along her jawline and down her neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. “i could ruin you in ways you never imagined. make you beg while screaming my name to the whole fucking neighborhood to listen.’’ matt nips sharply at her collarbone before soothing the sting with his tongue, laving the abused flesh with long strokes. his free hand slides down to grope her breast roughly through the thin fabric of her top, tweaking her nipple between his fingers.

she gasps, lifting her leg up between his legs, her hands still pinned above her head. “you’re just talk.” she scoffs, brushing her knee against his hard cock and he tilts his head back, lips parted with a whimper before he turns back to her, closing the gap between their bodies even more while sliding up the grip on her wrists, making her moan with the pain of her muscles being stretched aggressively. “i dare you to destroy me, matthew. even though i know you won’t get even close.” she looks up at him with a burning gaze, a unreadable expression in her face.

his eyes darken with sadistic glee at her challenge, a wicked smirk twisting his lips. matt releases her wrists abruptly and grips the hem of her black tight top, tearing it open with one swift motion to expose her bra-clad breasts, she moans and whimpers against his mouth, finally feeling her arms free. the flimsy lace provides little barrier as he palms the soft mounds roughly, rolling her sensitive nipples between his fingers. ‘’want to be destroyed, you fucking slut? i’ll give you what you asking for.’’ he captures her mouth again in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as he plunders her depths ruthlessly. the blue eyed boy hands roam her body greedily, squeezing and caressing every curve as he grinds his aching erection against her hip bone.

she breaks the kiss with heavy breathing, her lips still brushing against his. “yet you seem more affected than me.” she leads a hand to his hard cock, caressing it, matt immediately lets out a strangled groan as she gropes his straining dick through the cotton fabric of the sweatpants, his hips jerking involuntarily into her touch. “so hard…” her hand squeezes the covered length ruthlessly, leaning to his neck and sucking his pale skin, she smiles noticing the instant harsh red hickeys. “it seems like you’re the slut.” she brings a hand to his face, slapping it slightly before grabbing his face and pulling closer to hers. “and you didn’t even need to dress like me to be one, did you?” she giggles, sucking his bottom lips before biting it without mercy to bruise him just like he did to her.

“shut your fucking mouth.” her teasing words send a fresh wave of fury crashing through him and he grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back roughly to bare the column of her throat to his hungry mouth. “you have no idea what you're talking about.” he snarls against her skin before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, marking her with his hatred and desire. the other hand slides under her skirt to cup her ass possessively, kneading the firm globe. “i’m gonna fuck that smart mouth of yours until you choke on my cock. show you what a real man can do.“

she chuckles, her eyes glaring at him with challenge. “a real man, huh?” she slowly drop to her knees, calmly tracing her fingers over his sweatpants and pulling down just enough, his hard cock jumps over her face and matt breath catches in his throat watching the scene before his eyes, her hot mouth hovering mere inches from his very erected member. “no underwear at home? how slutty of you.” she chuckles, leaning against his pink tip covered with precum and licking it while her lustful eyes gazed at his face. “let’s see if you’re just all talk or not.”

his lips turns from a gasp to a smirk with her words, he tangles his fingers in her hair, gripping tightly as he guides her face closer to his straining erection. “open wide, you whore. show me how good you can suck dick.” he demands gruffly, rubbing the leaking tip across her full lips. “if you do a decent job, maybe i’ll consider letting you ride my cock later. would you like that, princess? to have me splitting your cunt open with my cock?”

matt pushes past her lips without waiting for a response, sliding deep into the welcoming heat of her mouth with a guttural moan.

she begins to take him all inside her mouth, reaching the throat right away while sucking vigorously, her tongue twisting around his tip when reaching the top before sliding back down deep in her cavity. her eyes already flooding with tears thanks to the aggressive contact of his large dick hitting the back of her throat multiple times, she’s looking at him with siren eyes while her nails were scratching and digging on his thighs.

matt throws his head back with a loud groan as the girl takes him with all effort, her throat constricting deliciously around his sensitive cock. the tears finally stream down her flushed cheeks as she struggles to accommodate his size, but she doesn't pull away, instead doubling her efforts to please him. “just like that. take it all, you filthy little cockslut.” he praises roughly, holding her head steady as he begins to thrust shallowly into her mouth, fucking her face with increasing intensity. “your mouth was made for sucking my dick, wasn't it? bet you love having your throat used like this, being choked on my thick cock.”

he picks up speed, slamming into her mouth brutally as he chases his release.

meanwhile she sucks him more, putting more pressure and taking him even deeper, her tears continuously falling down her pink cheeks and her makeup all smudge over under eyes still glued to his.

that sight of her was way too much for him, matt smirks to himself. feeling proud of dominating the girl who never backs down to anyone. her tear-streaked face, the makeup running down her cheeks as she takes his cock like a submissive whore sends matt hurtling towards the edge. with a roar, he buries himself balls-deep in her throat and holds her there as he erupts, flooding her mouth with spurt after spurt of hot cum.

“swallow it all, don't you dare spill a single drop.” he growls, keeping her trapped on his twitching shaft as he rides out the waves of his intense orgasm. “fuck, such a good cumdump. you’ve earned yourself a reward. now get up and bend over the kitchen counter. it’s time for me to fuck your little wet pussy.”

the girl swallows everything slowly holding back a smirk while savoring the taste of winning against a fucking asshole, she already won and her game didn’t even start yet.

slowly, she gets up in front of him, wipping the saliva off her chin and the melted makeup under her eyes. her hair beautifully messy and her shining eyes by the tears giving matthew the brief satisfaction, but quickly he shifts his mocking smile to a frown when she smirks and get closer to him.

“you’re not gonna fuck me, matt.” she announces, placing a finger on his chin. “because all i needed to do was pretend to be submissive for a split second for you to think that i was playing your little game, but in reality, you were playing mine this whole time.” she chuckles, releasing his chin with a harsh push with her finger, his head turn to the side while his jaw clenched. “you said you’re not like the other guys but you fell for my tricks just like they do.” she fixes her clothes, walking to the couch and sitting there with her legs crossed, the wetness of her pussy making her a little uncomfortable, but she brushes it off continuing her line of thoughts. “i wouldn’t be mad though, i just gave you the best orgasm of your life, didn’t i?” she asks, tilting her head while smiling.

he stares at her with his mouth open as she saunters away, ignoring his demand to present herself for him to ravage. she was right, no girl ever made him feel that amount of pleasure in his life but of course he was not gonna tell her that.

matt sighs, anger and arousal war within him as he watches her swinging her feet on the couch as if nothing happened.

“the fuck do you think you're doing? come here and bend over your fucking ass so i can destroy your soaking wet cunt.” he warns darkly, stalking towards her with murderous intent in his eyes. “you don't get to tease me like that and then just walk away. this is not how this works, i will have you begging for my cock before we're done today, mark my words.“

reaching the couch, matt grabs the girl roughly by the arm and hauls her to her feet.

“you’re the one begging to fuck me, matt.” she says smirking, his tight grip on her arm making her feel the need to provoke him more. “i mean, if you’re right about me opening my legs to every guy, i guess you’re the only one not getting it. and yet you’re here, wanting so bad to feel my pussy around your dick.” she places a hand over his cheek, caressing it with a fake sense of care. “you’re pathetic…” her thumb slowly slides to his lips, drawing it slightly while the boy shivered, not knowing which emotion to focus, horniness or ego bruised. “but that’s okay, i love pathetic men, they stand exactly where i want.” she slowly inserts a finger inside his mouth and matt opens it without even noticing. “that’s it…” she whispers, pressing his tongue with enough pressure to make him groan.

he is paralyzed again, all this new sensations eating his masculinity and dominance alive, her mocking words stoking the flames of his fury higher but at the same time he wants to give him to the pleasure but quickly recovering to protect his pride.

he grabs her wrist in an iron grip, still feeling the taste of her thumb in his mouth while the other hand acts quickly, seizing her waist against his torso, trapping her between the hard surface nearest wall and his muscular body.

“listen here, you little brat.” he slides his hand under her skirt, using his finger to pull her panties to the side. matt grins, feeling her soaking wet pussy. “look at you, you’re dripping.” he chuckles sarcastically. “i’m going to fuck you and you’re gonna take my cock as the good slut you are. the only question is whether you're going to be able to sit comfortably tomorrow or not.” he threatens menacingly, grinding his already hardening cock against her lower stomach. “i suggest you start begging nicely for it like a good little bitch. maybe if you ask really sweetly, i’ll go easy on you... for the first round, anyway.”

suddenly the voices of chris and nick echoed through the front door. seems like they were back with the groceries. she smirks at matt. 

“nope, i’d rather leave you hard and dry in front of your brothers.” she winks at him smirking, taking his surprise as an advantage to break free from his body, heading to the the her previous spot calmly.

matt curses under his breath as he hears chris and nick approaching the stairs with loud laughter and chatting, knowing he won't have time to properly punish that menace for her insolence. not yet anyway. he shoots her a look filled with dark promise before quickly tucking himself back into his pants and adjusting his shirt.

“this isn't over.” he whispers harshly, jabbing a finger at her as he steps back and she smiles at him amused by his anger. with that ominous vow ringing in the air, matt turns to greet his brothers with a forced smile, praying they don't notice the prominent bulge tenting his sweatpants or the glazed look of frustrated lust in his eyes.

[goldtheorys]

Jeff the killer general + relationship headcanons

_I did Jeff headcanons before but they were ass, so here’s my second attempt.

══════════════════ -`♡´-

General 🩶

Veeeeery reclusive

He’s thin and agile, even if he’s literally just standing in a room staring at the wall, lost in thought, he’ll hide or slip out of the room when he hears someone coming in easily

He doesn’t even really mean to, but it’s just some instinct that kicks in he doesn’t bother to fight

Doesn’t like people all that much anyways, so he’ll do what he can to avoid everyone

Loneliness isn’t the loveliest feeling though

Occasionally he’ll go find one of the other creeps, awkwardly ask them a simple question

I see a lot of stuff where he’s really loud and obnoxious, also a total jerk, and although I agree, his whole life went to shit pretty early on

So he lacks social skills, he barely knows how to take care of himself, and doesn’t have good emotional control

Of course he has outbursts, he doesn’t know how to make friends, he thinks because he’s so damn amazing everyone who “acts” like they hate him just wants to be him

But it begins to get to him after awhile, never having someone

He is sort of friends with Ben, but it flip flops from fun and easygoing to strained and frustrating

Survives on randomly selected energy drinks, beer and junk food alone

Cannot cook, cannot remember what a warm meal tastes like

Has a lot of energy, so when he can’t find anyone to bother, he goes on walks

Mostly during night to help hide his face, but because of that it’s pretty enjoyable

Wears a mask too so he can grab some food before finding whatever abandoned park he can, sitting on the swing set while he eats

Prefers the colder months

I’m not sure I wanna add he has smile dog as a pet on my version of him… but he is a big dog person. Runs into a stray every now and again and spends maybe a solid hour just petting and talking to it

He kills when he feels overwhelmed, but regrets it from all the guilt after

Sleeps a lot to try and forget about everything

Relationship

══════════════════ 🤍

You two probably met in a rather absurd way

Maybe it was the classic you both just murdered someone and found eachother, dripping with a stranger’s blood

Or he walked into your home at random, surprised and intrigued by your lack of fear

(you were just too tired to give a fuck)

He’s real rude at first, calling you names, making fun of basically the way you breathe or walk, trying to poke and prod for a weak point

If you tough it out and keep being kind or neutral towards him, eventually he’ll stop and slide into a weird mood of observing you

It’s like his eyes never leave you for a second, and it gets real creepy

He studies your movements, your face, your words, your mannerisms

You’re still here despite his lack of…maturity at the beginning

Even if it’s a little begrudgingly, you’ve let him stay

It’s weird and he can’t help but question if it’s some scheme to hurt or kill him

But he’ll be damned if he misses the chance to have the first genuine human connection he’s had in years

Kind of follows you like a cat when he can

Like to watch you from his own spot in the room, occasionally piping up to say whatever comes to his mind

And, it would take a bit longer, but eventually he warms up to being more affectionate, rather than the previous friendly coexisting

Doesn’t show it, might even scowl at you for being quote unquote cringe, but adores when you compliment him. About his beauty, his talents, his intelligence, he wants it all

But what he really adores is your touch

Late nights in, watching some show while he lies on top of you

Your nails running up and down his back, occasionally tangling into his hair to twist and brush it makes his heart beat faster than any night when he’s drenched in sweat and blood

He’ll still refuse to show that kind of weakness in front of anyone else, but when it’s just him and you, he’s pathetic for your attention and affection

Likes to hold you from behind, tracing every curve, every scar, every inch of your skin he can reach

Dangerously possessive

You’re the first good thing that’s happened to him in a long while, he cannot stand even the thought of you being ripped away from him

And as I said before, he doesn’t have the greatest control of his feelings

Instead of voicing his fears or concerns, he lashes out at you, especially if he knows you’ve been spending time with someone else

Tries to force you to stay by his side, threatens to harm you if you dare to leave

But once he calms down, he leaves, and your left scratching your head wondering why he had done all of that

He’ll come back when you’re asleep, watching you as he traces shapes onto your arm

He’s so fucking scared you’re gonna realize how truly shitty of a person he is

Wakes you up, wrapping you into a hug as soon as your blearily blink your eyes open

He won’t apologize, he’s still a bit of a narcissist, but you can feel it in the way he clings to you in the darkness of the room

You’ll cuddle him to sleep, and wake up in the morning to him acting like nothing has happened

══════════════════ -`♡´-

_ughhh still don’t rlly like this it is SO messy, but also idc lol. Hope my version of him is enjoyable… might work on nsfw headcanons next, but I’m kind of just going with whatever right now. requests open, and sorry for my previous inactivity (⇀‸↼‶)

[lightlycareless]

i just read ur reader piercing naoya's ear fic and i was wondering can u write smth about naoya finding out reader got their belly button pierced? xx

Hello!!!

Did someone say smut? because that's what we got. I think hehe. I'm still somewhat uncomfortable writing it but you know what they say!! practice makes perfect 🙈🙈🙈 Anyways, thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask!!!!! 🥺 it took me a while to get an idea of what I wanted to write, but here we are :> I hope its to your liking!

Also, I believe this is the fic anon is referring to :> If not then gee I've written more about piercings that I've ever expected lol.

warnings: smut. MINORS DNI. you get a piercing and decide to... act weird about it. naoya does not like it :)

Happy reading!

How you managed to hide your piercing from his ever-wandering hands is a commendable feat, even after all went down, you still don’t know how you did it.

Though all this could’ve been easily avoided in the first place if you hadn’t convinced yourself to do it after seeing a particular photoshoot and thinking “I can look just as good.”

As well as believing this would further spice up your life with Naoya. Like it wasn’t spiced enough!

But only after you surpass both your embarrassment and heal; unfortunately, the former only growing stronger and stronger upon realizing this was far more than what you bargained for.

You initially try to play it off as being sick whenever he gets too close. Not in the mood, even. “I’m dizzy.” “My head hurts.” “I’m on my period.” Are just a few of the excuses you deployed.

And your loving husband, always the (surprisingly) patient one, takes it, because he supposes that for his ever-willing wife he could allow these exceptions. Thus, right after you reject him, he cuddles up to you and falls asleep.

However, his tolerance quickly ends when understanding this wasn’t to be a 1-week occurrence. But rather, a monthly endeavor that soon turned his everyday into utter punishment.

Naoya frantically attempted to make sense of it all. Think that perhaps the reason behind your distance was because of some unknown issue that troubled your mind; you always tended to keep things to yourself, even if he’s countlessly assured you he could fix all of your problems—he just needs to know them first.

��

But even then… Naoya could not understand how easily you were able to detach from him. Because to him… to do so meant death itself.

The problem wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. Naoya had more than enough means to keep you satisfied however you needed it, and he made sure of that too.

Thus, at the lack of answers, he begins to feel threatened. Intimidated. Replaceable.

And we all know how Naoya gets when feeling such way.

“Princess, you will explain yourself—now.” Naoya demands, his abrupt, towering presence forcing you deeper into the bedroom, nowhere to escape.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You gasp, a blatant lie that only served to bury you deeper into your mistakes.

“Oh, no. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, mochi.”

If you hadn’t transgressed Naoya, you would’ve found his approach very, very inciting.

Unfortunately, even if you wished to go down that path, your dear husband was far too infuriated by your ridiculous behavior to consider anything else that wasn’t confronting you.

“Why are you avoiding me? And don’t even try to get out of this one, I’ve been patient enough.”

You knew this moment was fast approaching; only a matter of time before you ran out of excuses… or patience to abuse.

There’s only so much he’s willing to tolerate before he… well, you don’t want to think about it.

“I’m just… I just— I don’t know how to tell you…” you breathe.

“How to tell me what?”

“Do you promise to not get angry at me?”

“I’m not sure if I can promise that.” He frowns. You swallow.

“…at least not too much?”

Naoya squints his eyes, as if considering it. You knew he wouldn’t, you were in the wrongdoing after all.

“Just don’t judge me, please.” You eventually profess, and after taking one last breath, you reach for your obi and untie it, careful to not reveal too much but just enough to show the bare skin of your abdomen—

And the shiny addition to your navel.

Naoya couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“Is that all, princess?” He chuckles loudly, like you just told him the funniest joke he’s ever heard. You do not find it amusing. “Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me??”

“Y—yeah I—I guess!” You frown, cheeks burning hot. “Don’t make fun of me, I was really hesitant whether to tell you or not!”

“Really? For this silly little thing?”

“It wasn’t silly to me, Naoya!” you cry.

“Alright, alright—I didn’t mean to upset you.” He says, curiously attempting to reach for your piercing before you smack him away. “Hey!”

You glance away, placing your obi back in place.

“Come on now, you don’t have to hide it from me.” Naoya smirks, stepping closer. “Hey, princess—”

“It’s still healing.” You quietly explain; a partial reasoning behind your dismissal.

“Ah, so you’re telling me you wouldn’t like me to help you?” He enticed, you retreated further into the wall; if possible. “I have more than enough experience with piercings, there’s no one in the estate more qualified than me.”

“Don’t misinterpret my words, you know I didn’t mean... that.” You caution, though he spoke nothing but the truth.

“Is that a yes?” Naoya continues, placing his fingers under your chin and pulling your gaze back to his.

“…only if you don’t make fun of me.” You eventually agree, and he seals the deal with a chaste kiss on your lips, followed by a tight hug that has you whining in pain. “Na—Naoya!”

“Oh, princess, I’m sorry.” Naoya says, quickly releasing you. “You poor thing… is this how it’s been since?”

You nod.

“Well, you’re in good hands now; and luckily for you, I know just the right thing that will ease your pain.”

Had you known Naoya would completely dedicate his time to make sure you weren’t passing any discomfort, then maybe you would’ve told him of your small endeavor from the very beginning.

It just… to see him so enthralled by your impulsive decision, you couldn’t help but wonder how different everything would’ve been if you had decided otherwise.

As well as how much you exaggerated your worries; hadn’t your husband consistently proven how far he’s willing to go just to make you happy?

From whatever craving you desired (but nothing that would hinder your healing process) to the endless kisses he’d place on your navel—as if he weren’t sufficiently hypnotized by your body, your piercing heightened that desire—Naoya was all yours. Completely allured.

But mostly by the rush he got at being the only person to know of the debauchery that hid beneath the pristine, meek and obedient look you carried around the estate; fitting to the wife of the future leader of the Zen’in— the same woman many admire by her gentleness, how you’re his living contrast, his better half; never daring to be as outrageous at he is!

If only they knew the truth.

No. It was better if they didn’t. He’d fervently keep all this enjoyment for himself.

“St—stop, Naoya!” you cry, squirming beneath his touch that roamed across your body, caressing the places where he’d like to taint next, such as your now sensitive nipples, which he’d squeeze and pinch incessantly for you to suffer in the following days.

Or your twitching clit, grazing it with no particular desire outside of tormenting you with pleasure. Remind you who really was in charge of your mere existence.

Yet, nothing compared to the way his cock plunged into your warm, tight walls—choking him so painfully exquisite, Naoya can’t help but moan whenever you do. Keeping your hips steady as he gives you all that he could not these past few months—blinding your sight with stars when bruising that one spot that always has you coming undone, which you desperately grasp whenever possible, wanting to steady that agonizing sensation.

Because as cruelly as your husband teased you, you equally desired to pour out all the desire you bottled up by a silly fear, let him enjoy the gift that was always meant for him. Your role in this marriage.

“It—it hurts—Naoya—!” you whimper, a profession Naoya was quick to interject as a lie given the way your cunt refused to stop milking him.

“Hmmm, it does, doesn’t it?” He breathes against your skin, placing ardent kisses across your cheek down to your neck as his hands reached for one of your nipples once more, giving it a particularly tight pinch that made you squeal.

“N—Naoya—!”

“Would it hurt here too, if you got a piercing?” he ponders curiously, another wave of excitement travelling all the way down to his member, which you felt grow even harder, bigger at the thought. Hips unwavering as if he were attempting to drill the proposition deeper and deeper into you.

Naoya was pretty much depraved when it came to your breasts, his hands or mouth always on them whenever possible; So, with this, you fear your chest will never know peace again.

But it doesn’t frighten you. In fact, you are willing to entertain such an idea. Endure the pain that follows this decision—for him to completely succumb to you.

“Would you do that for me, princess?” Naoya gasps, plummeting faster, stronger into you in that familiar sloppy way that signaled to you he was dangerously close.

You instinctively, as if second nature, wrap your legs around him, keeping him close, right there, followed by the agonizing tightness of you walls that soon make his voice tremble—stopping any silly consideration he might’ve had of spilling his seed anywhere else except where you deserved… though Naoya never entertained otherwise.

“Show how much you truly love me, by—by doing this?” he gasps, firmly shutting his eyes to not urge his release at the sight of your bouncing breasts.

“N—Naoya—!” you gasp, pulling him closer to you and captivating his lips in a heated kiss. Moaning into his mouth as your tongues intertwined with one another. “Ah—Naoya~! I—”

“Ple—Please, Y/N!” He suddenly begins to beg, now delirious with pleasure. “Please—Please do it for me, princess, you don’t know how happy this would make me—how much I wanted this!”

The combination of your devotion, your sweet whines, the tightness of your core, and the eagerness in the markings in his back is his ultimate downfall, just a few more thrusts and the first spurts of his burning seed spill deep within you—ropes of white covering your walls which you welcome almost jealously, as if wasting the smallest drop was the highest sacrilege.

And to a longing mother, it just might—but beneath your desires of a family, you wished to welcome back the husband your actions had unwillingly estranged: his intoxicating scent, the strength he’s amassed throughout years thanks to his strict routine, his burning touch tracing your skin with invisible lines…

But most importantly, his love, which you tightly held onto as he came down from his high, resting on your chest as he lets out a deep sigh, still plugged into you, just as he’d done the past few times in hopes his seed will finally take root. Naoya wishes to be a father too, and the thought always makes your heart flutter.

It’s the look of a man well satisfied. A man that has wholeheartedly committed to you, body and soul…

A husband that deserves to be rewarded, consoled. Urging you to speak coherently for the first time that night and let him know he no longer stands alone.

“I’ll do it.” You say, Naoya snuggles closer to you.

“Hm?”

“The piercing thing. I’ll do it, if that’s what you want.”

“The… oh.” Naoya blinks, moments of his passion suddenly flash back to his mind. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s spoken at the heat of the moment, nor the last.

“Do you really… want me to do that?” you murmur hesitantly. “Get another piercing?”

And for a few seconds, the two remain in complete silence, whether enjoying the intimacy he’s been cruelly deprived from, or considering your words… it didn’t matter. Neither wanted this moment to stop.

It was simply… perfect. Just the two, with each other’s heartbeat to fill the quietness in the room—and the doubts in your mind.

“No.” Naoya eventually confesses, placing a kiss on your skin. “I do not.”

Because as much as the idea enthralled him, he didn’t want to force anything on you. Certainly not for a piece of metal.

“You’re perfect to me like this. With or without piercings.”

Your heart tightens at his words.

“You don’t mind the one I already have, then?” you ask, he laughs. As if it hadn’t just shown you.

“No. Not at all; I didn’t think you could be any hotter, and yet, here you are… proving me wrong, my adorable lava cake.”

You frown at the gross nickname, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.

“Hey! What’s with the aggression?” He jests, but you simply hug him tighter, closer to you. “Is that how you treat the husband that had so lovingly filled you with his seed—"

“Shut up, don’t be crude!” You say, resting your head on his. After a few moments of silence, calming down, you declare: “…I love you.”

Naoya lets out a breathy chuckle, succumbing to your affection moments before his slumber.

“I love you more, my little mochi.”

Oh, how could you ever doubt his affection?

I always suspected Y/N to be more of a tattoo kind of person; idk why, but I think it would complement each other nicely too. Naoya is with the piercings, and you with the tattoo's. We all known which one he'd like.

Also, I will never tire myself of writing Naoya as completely gross with you. Like, the mere thought of you hiding such a simple piercing from him is OOF he loves it. I mean, without the constant pushing him away lol But yeah, watching you walk around in one of those traditional yukatas with your hair all pulled up in the most appropriate way ever, looking to appease the Zen'in only for him to be like:

"Yeah, you see her? No one would suspect my wife has her nipples pierced." IS SUCH a HUGE turn on to him. Maybe you do get them later on, who knows? 😏

Anyways, I hope you liked this small thing I wrote 🫣 I shall continue to strive improving my smut skills, sometimes I get so inspired, sometimes... I don't even know what I'm doing :'(

Well, still; I wish y'all enjoy it. Take care and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️

[sammy-234]

Does anyone else think that Sebastian fans (most Bucky fans) are getting a little too crazy? Not meaning to offend anyone if I did I’m sorry.

(Also not trying to put the blame just on one group since a lot of people in fandoms are now getting really rude but yeah this is just my experience from tonight)

But like lately so many people have been posting a clip from comic con Liverpool of Sebastian saying he wants Steve Roger’s back and people were calling out names (since he asked who they would like to see come back) some said iron man, someone said Wanda but a lot of people said Natasha which he agreed on. Now I wasn’t there I live in Australia but a lot of the clips people are saying they want to see a movie on Natasha and Bucky like I have no problem with that but why do people go crazy about it? (Still not trying to be mean)

Like I commented on two posts saying a bucky and Natasha movie would be good but that they should do one on him and his sister I wanted to know more about Rebecca Barnes, his other siblings and his family. One post nobody commented on my comment but on the second post so many people told me if I read the comics I would understand and that it’s a waste of time. Like it got nasty that I had to delete the comment because people were just getting mean because I haven’t read the comics. Like all my comment said was it would be cool if we got a movie on Bucky and Rebecca since they kinda brought up he had a sister in falcon and the winter soldier. But so many people hated it.

Guys what happened to the fandom where we were nice to each other? Like I didn’t hate on anyone talking about winterwidow but people hated on my comment? Like what?

Sebastian is a nice amazing guy and has a nice community but it seems a lot of people are getting nasty when you don’t agree with them.

Don’t want to be one of them people but I was in a bad place and when I found Sebastian’s movies and even Bucky it brought me comfort that I’m still here today. But if people are gonna be nasty and hateful then maybe I might leave the community for a while til it just goes back to peace.

Hope nobody else is experiencing this. Sucks that it happened to me and I really hope it’s not happening to anyone else since Sebastian is a positive guy and spreads positivity so you would think his fans are the same but yeah some people are just taking it a bit too far.

Also hope anyone that met Sebastian this weekend had a good time a lot of the photos of people I’ve seen with him from Instagram are cute you guys all look wonderful

But yeah anyways goodnight 💤 it’s late in Australia hope everyone has a good day and FUCKING SPREAD POSITIVITY NOT HATE