#anyways yeah. whenever i see that scene

[fbfh]

do you still write for jj?

ooooh not only do I write for JJ but I kiss you on both cheeks for giving me an excuse to talk about one of my favorite obscure JJ thoughts. JJ x ballerina!reader (gn so technically ballet dancer reader, but you do dance pointe and in a more feminine style in pas de deux so do with that what you will)

They thought you were a kook for the first few summers since you clearly went to school off the island. It turns out you're not, you're just a scholarship kid to whatever fancy school you go to (something that Pope LOVES to pick your brain about since he's dying for a scholarship to his dream college)

at some point or another, there's a hurricane. you end up sticking it out with the other pogues. that's when they notice how... weirdly flexible you are. especially JJ. mostly JJ. it started off small, with you stretching a little while you guys are hanging out in the aftermath since the day after a hurricane is always a free day. JJ looked away from you for like two seconds and you just fuckin... dropped into a perfect split. he's surprised by this obviously, but he's more surprised when you seamlessly shift to a split on the other side, then a center split, bending and moving with impossibly flexibility. then a moment later, you're asking him "hey can you grab my leg?" as you stand up and stretch into a scorpion/needle pose. soon you're dragging him out of the room to "help you with something else." he FULLY thinks yall are about to hook up, but instead you put on this beautiful, artsy, erratic piano music, kick off your sandals or sneakers or whatever, and begin moving like a fucking vision.

you're rambling to him while you dance like it's nothing, but his jaw is on the fucking floor.

"This is the solo I learned last semester," you chuckle while spinning like a little figurine atop a music box, or something in a snow globe, or... wherever else he's seen ballerinas in passing before.

"If I'm rusty by the time I get back, Miss Raine will kill me." you chuckle playfully.

after a few moments, you finish, posed delicately on the ground. you look up at him, your cheeks flushed, your eyes glistening with mirth.

"holy fucking shit," he exclaims, making you blush. "goddamn, princess, that-"

he trails off with a disbelieving chuckle.

"That was fuckin' incredible," he says with a breathy laugh, then nudges you playfully, looking at you more closely like he must have missed something all those times he looked at you and never saw this magical ballet fairy hiding inside you. "you've been holdin' out on me." he teases.

"okay, okay, here's where I need your help." you begin, trying not to get too distracted. you reach out and grab his wrist, holding out his left arm palm up. "I'm gonna run at you like this-"

you demonstrate, taking a step forward. his attention is locked onto you even harder from the moment you grab his arm.

"And kinda... kick my leg around," you do just that, so you're twisted around and facing away from him. he lets out a little noise of surprise. you know it must seem convoluted and ridiculous, but you really need help practicing this lift.

"I need you to wrap your arm around me like this," you say, bending forward with one leg extended behind you, the other supporting you, so your stomach rests on his bicep and his hand holds the small of your back. "And then place your other hand right on my ribcage here."

"oh, my hand will be wherever you want it, cupcake." he says, making you roll your eyes at the (only half joking) innuendo.

"okay." you say, taking a step back. "you ready?"

the first few times you walk through it together are clumsy and slow, a mess of limbs and giggles, but eventually you get it. you call your friends in to show them the bluebird lift you've been working on, even having successfully taught JJ how to lower you and do a few basic steps with you to conclude. you both get through it unscathed, and your friends reactions are very similar to JJ (with only slightly less innuendo and teasing from John B and Pope), and as JJ giggles and demands you come at him so he can lift you again, you start to see a lot of potential in him.

maybe, just maybe, you can shape that potential a little more over the summer. your ballet academy always has scholarships for boys available since they're always in demand in the performing arts. you think there might just be a chance for JJ to do a lot more lifts with you.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

if dorian didn't show up, do you think louis would have shot minnie?

I do. I know some people think either he wouldn't have or he would've missed so that's why the writers had him shoot Dorian instead, but mmmmmm no, I don't personally think so. I like to think that if he had taken the shot, his shaky hands would've caused him to shoot her fatally.

Mostly because I'm already so normal about the fact that of the Ericson crew, Marlon and Louis are the only ones with a body count. Well, that we know of, but shown to us in the game, at least. Plus, we know it's Louis' first kill.

Like yeah, Clementine and AJ become part of the crew and they have bigger body counts, and if we're counting indirect kills caused by actions, then Tenn has a count... and I guess everyone has blood on their hands for blowing up the boat... but I'm talking about killed directly with a weapon like....... I lied, I'm not normal about that at all, Louis and Marlon are the ones who have killed someone in Louis' route. I'm also not normal about the fact that Louis kills Dorian and then even as he's clearly in shock, he tries to go with Clementine to get AJ, and then later on when they talk about it, he says it feels like bile but not quite and he's glad he has it in him to do it.... listen, listen, listen... I'm obsessed with that.

Anyway, so if Louis shot Minerva, I think he would've accidentally killed her and can you imagine? He's already enough of a mess after killing the woman who pinned him down and tried to cut his finger off [or succeeded] but he knew Minerva, they were friends before the twins were taken. Even Violet couldn't kill her even though that would've been the smarter thing to do, and we know thanks to meta knowledge that killing her would've saved lives, but Violet couldn't, and I don't think Louis would intentionally either.

Speaking of Violet, if Louis killed Minerva, I hate to think about what that would've done to Vi. I think she might've actually left at that point, like what was planned before it got changed to her being burned. I don't think she would've attacked Louis over it, though, like yeah she attacked Clementine in the cell but Louis? I don't know, but I don't think so just because it's Louis and he'd be a mess about it anyway.

Though if he did kill her, it would be a neat parallel to draw... y'know, because Louis forgave AJ for killing Marlon even though he was pissed and heartbroken, and Violet was annoyed with him the entire time... but could she ever forgive Louis for killing Minerva? Y'know? We already have a similar parallel with AJ shooting Tenn, but still.

If Clementine killed Minerva in that moment, though, then I could see Violet attacking her since in her eyes, Clem proved her right.

So yeah, I get why they added the Dorian kill to his route. It adds another compelling element to Louis as a character, but we also need Minerva alive for episode 4; Louis can't kill her, he can't miss, and he's not going to stay with her because we need Violet to stay on the boat and him to be on shore for all routes.

[cuteniarose]

The most P’heer-coded song ever made and I’m not taking any criticism about this

(A.k.a: Nia ffs stop pushing your obsession with soviet cinema onto people no one cares)

Rough and non-rhyming translation done by yours truly because I’m bored and have nothing better to do than sit here and translate songs:

[ Like life without spring,

Like spring with no leaves,

Like leaves with no thunderstorms,

And like thunderstorms with no lightning

That’s how dull the years are

Without the right to love,

The right to answer your call

Or your wordless pained moan (x2)

Alas, misfortune can’t be predicted

Call for me, I will block the blow.

And perhaps I’ll pay for it with my head

It’s not up to me to wonder about the price, my love

The roads of love are not easy for us,

But at least the white moss and clovers show us kindness.

The nightingales are full of bittersweet longing

And the springs are generous as they return to us in the north

The nightingales are full of bittersweet longing

And the springs are generous as they return to us in the north

The land that is so full of separation

Will suddenly wed us itself.

Because we are faithful to the birds of spring

We hear them even in winter, my love ]

The vibes aren’t as apparent unless you know the context, which just SCREAMS young P’heer:

Alyosha is an upper class boy on the run from the government after getting involved in Shit He Should Not Have Gotten Involved In. While spending the night in a monastery, he meets Sofya, who was placed there against her will after the death of her parents and is now being readied to become a nun (her parents left her a big inheritance which she is being pressured into giving away as a donation to the monastery). He helps her escape and they travel together for a while until they reach her aunt’s place, where they part ways until he finds out that her aunt sold her out to the monastery in exchange for a cut of her inheritance. The nuns take Sofya to a nearby skit (remote religious settlement) and Alyosha follows, once again helping her escape but this time taking her with him on his travels. She ends up joining him and his friends as they attempt to get themselves out of the Shit They Should Not Have Gotten Involved In, and taking an active part in the attempt to rescue the kidnapped Anastasia Yaguzhinskaya, the love interest of one of Alyosha’s friends

Or, in other words – Nia once said that they have no interest in any other piece of media besides their multiverse of madness. Nia was, apparently, blatantly lying and did not realise until this exact moment that Gardemarines, Charge!, a four episode movie series from 1987, does, in fact, make them yell incoherently and brainrot like crazy

[unproduciblesmackdown]

imagine that time will was like "oh do people here care about billions. maybe i'll see if i can find some pics" years ago if he qrt'd that Now lol

[merrinla]

I was confused that after returning from prison of regrets, Rook was immediately dragged to a hub meeting. Turns out that after the prison, your love interest insisted that everyone leave Rook alone and send them to rest. And only then there was a meeting.

Rook: Solas? (?): We're not sure. Probably searching for some way to defeat Elgar'nan. (?): We don't know. Not really. We were so busy looking for you we… lost track. option: It's been two weeks. Rook: I was… what? Two weeks? option: A two-week long day. Rook: Apparently my hard day lasted two weeks. (?): Yes, you were gone two weeks. Which means you need rest, food, and water. (Emmrich?): Yes, my love. Which is why you shouldn't rush out just yet. (?): Enough of this. You need food and rest. We'll talk business later. (Taash?): Yeah. So you need rest. We can talk about the other crap later. Davrin: We'll talk about this later. You need some rest and Assan needs feeding. (?): Everyone please stop. Rook needs rest, and… food, probably… (?): Yeah. A lot happened. But it can wait. Until you've had some rest. (?): Yeah. There's a lot to catch up on. After you rest, anyway. Rook: Thanks, Bellara. Bellara: Of course. I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready. Rook: Lucanis… Lucanis: Go get some sleep before you collapse. If anybody knows how bad that is, it's me. Rook: Taash… Taash: You need rest. I'll make you tea. Do you want ginger or lavender? Rook: Emmrich, I can't… Emmrich: Please. For the sake of one who's missed your company. Rook: Rest? There's so much… (?): There always is. Don't worry. I won't start without you. Rook: I can't rest, there's too much— (?): Who knows you best? Rook: But there's so much to— (?): Please, Rook. For me. option: Then let's all take a break. Rook: Everything you've done, you all deserve a rest as much as I do. option: Not too long Rook: The gods can wait a little while longer. Rook: Not for too long. But fine, I'll go rest. And hey, it's nice of you to care. (?): You're quite welcome. (?): It's good to have you back. (?): I'm so glad we got you back. (?): It didn't feel right with you gone. (?): Rest well, Rook. Davrin: Assan will be happy to see you. (?): Yep. What they said. (?): I'll see you in a bit.

I wonder how the decision was made to remove this content. This is a scene where LI worries and cares about the player's character. No no no, let's cut it!

I mean, if it's in the localization file and translated into 11 languages, then it was most likely already voiced and implemented in the game.

[luveline]

YES to luna lovegood/dreamy!reader!!!!!!!!! Can we possibly get one with Spencer? <3

“It’s not as bad as you think.” 

Hotch appreciates the softness of your voice, as someone who also speaks in a very measured tone, but the sound of it has his brow furrowing. You’re a brilliant analyst, and a worse distraction whenever you’re in the main office. 

“It sounds terrible?” 

Hotch peers through the window to get a good look at the scene. You’re sitting in Spencer’s desk chair with your hands stretched out in front of you. Your outfit is very pink, considering the occasion, but it’s a non-abrasive light pink that flatters your skin. You have a clip in your hair, a small silver star with pink jewels embedded along the lines. 

Emily sips at a cup of coffee, leaning against the desk, her face to the side. Hotch can see her perturbed smile. 

“It’s fine! I’ve just been sleeping on the sofa.” 

“Well. That’s a call to pest control.” 

Spencer returns to his desk with a frown and two mugs. “Pest control?” he asks, the mug he places in front of you steaming. 

“There’s a raccoon living in her bedroom.” 

Spencer burns himself on his coffee, swearing as he puts it down hurriedly beside yours. “There’s a what?” Spencer asks. 

“He’s friendly. He came in through my vent.” 

“So friendly he’s stolen your bedroom?” 

You lean back in Spencer’s chair like it’s a La-Z-Boy, blowing at the hot surface of your drink with a similar lazy smile. “Imagine being that little and having such a big bed? When you usually sleep in the garbage?” You give a breathy laugh. “He must be having the time of his life.” 

“How are you getting ready in the mornings?” Spencer asks worriedly. 

“We’re cohabiting.” 

Spencer licks his lips. He likes you, and you seem aware of that fact, and that’s nerve-wracking for everyone involved. 

“Um, maybe we can make him a house? Like, outside? Raccoons are far happier in their natural habitat, and they’re also, you know, highly diseased and contagious compared to humans. I really don’t think you should let him inside.” 

“Spencer,” you say, giving him a dozy grin, “I didn’t let him in. He knows how to get in all by himself.” 

“I’ll call a repairman, too,” Emily says with a groan. 

She walks away, probably to find JJ and get her in on the repairs. Spencer looks at you for a long time, just drinking your tea, and Hotch mentally goads him into making a semblance of a move. Even if it’s just to fix your drooping hair clip. 

“You’re looking at me strangely again,” you say. 

Winces all around. “Am I?” Spencer asks. 

“Yes. Is this about Thursday?” 

“No.” Spencer swallows. “Yes. You didn’t answer my texts, after. I just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?” 

“Yeah. I thought about it a lot, so maybe you did too. Or maybe you didn’t, and it didn’t mean anything.” 

“Of course it meant something, Spencer.” You put down your mug, dusting your knees off before you stand. Spencer is not much taller than you where you’re standing in front of him, but you look up at him anyways. Your face tips ever so slightly to one side. “Would you want to do it again?” you ask softly. 

Spencer looks around the office. He neglects to check Hotch’s window, perhaps because the blinds are more often drawn than not, and so he doesn’t realise Hotch is watching as he draws you in for a kiss. 

You preen and lean back, hands fighting to cup his cheeks, a gauzy, practically gleaming aura around you as you smile into his mouth. Your fingertips tease his hair, and Spencer’s hand settles in place against the small of your back. You kiss back for only a few seconds before you’re laughing.

Spencer moves away quickly, taking your wrists into his hands to pull them away from his face. 

“You give up too fast,” you say. 

“I don’t think this is the place for it.” 

“Well, we can’t do it at my place. What if the raccoon sees?” 

“Good point. How about Marina’s, would that be better? We can get dinner at the same time.” 

Hotch feels oddly proud of Spencer’s suave suggestion, but he also has a migraine brewing between his brows. He really doesn’t need the extra paperwork. 

[ruesol]

Wearing a backless dress in front of Nanami for the first time.

Note: early relationship feels. F!reader, AFAB reader. Not proofread, I’m sorry for torturing you guys. A smidge of SUGGESTIVENESS.

Masterlist

Nanami was a punctual man. He hated tardiness especially when it came to himself. Which is why he was getting agitated when you were taking too long to get ready.

“Honey, are you done?” Nanami impatiently called out from your living room.

You were going to meet his high school friend group for the first time today and you all planned to meet at a luxurious bar- which meant you wanted to make a good first impression.

“Yeah, let me just get my coat and we’re good to go.” You said as you left your room to get to the coat stand in the living room. He thanked his lucky stars at that moment. He knew it took you a long time to get ready but he was starting to think that he should give you an earlier time so you could get ready faster from here on out.

But time stood still for him when his eyes landed on you.

Nanami immediately got up from his seat when he saw you. He involuntarily put his hand on his chest. Almost like he was trying to calm himself down.

His tawny eyes raked down your figure. It was a simple dress- full sleeved with a square neckline and a hem that reached right above your knee. The show stopper was your bare back.

Sure, Nanami had seen you naked a few times since the beginning of your relationship, but he hadn’t seen you dress up so beautifully unless it was for a date at an expensive restaurant (which seldom happened for you both enjoyed exploring hole in the wall places).

Friends be damned. His girlfriend looked like dessert served on a gold platter.

“You…” he rasped out. He couldn’t even find the words to describe the sight in front of him.

He slowly walked towards you (with heart eyes) and removed your jacket from your grasp. “Everything alright?” Your eyes searched his but he was too busy staring at your neckline.

“Yeah, just… spin for me, darling. I want to take this all in before we leave.” You giggled at his request and did as he asked.

“Like what you see?”

“Very much.”

“You can have me whenever, babe. We’re gonna come back to my place after meeting everyone anyway.” Nanami pulled you to him with a small tug to your wrist, ignoring your suggestion.

“Yes, but knowing that we’ll be late because of how beautiful you look makes me feel excited.” His said as he stroked his fingers up and down your back. He leaned in to get a kiss but you pulled away with a whine. “I just did my makeup.”

“Just one little kiss. I promise I won’t ruin it.” You groaned at him but leaned in, planning to leave a small peck on his eager lips.

But your plan was foiled because you were met with an intoxicating kiss. His mouth was ready to devour you as his hands situated themselves behind your head.

“Kento-“ you tried to remind him of his promise while you tried to pull away but he just used his grip on your head to push you back into his arms.

“Little more,” he mumbled into your mouth. You let out of a mewl of annoyance and he squeezed your ass to comfort you.

His tongue lapped up whatever was left of your lipstick as he continued to attack your lips. His hands pulled you impossibly close that you could feel his need for you through his pants.

After what felt like ages, you both pulled away. “Great, we’re going to be late now,” you said as you stomped away to your room to apply more lipstick.

“Come back!” he yelled, hot on your heels. “We can afford to be a few minutes late,” he said as he entered your room and closed the door.

You had managed to shake the principles of the ever punctual Nanami Kento.

-

I was thinking about that one scene from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days while writing this.

[p1astr81]

Hey!!! I totally love all your works and i wanted to req an angsty story bc ya girl loves trauma😭😭😭 so basically reader asks either osc or max (up to u) if they wanna go on a date and since he's not rlly paying attention he jokes that he'd rather spend the time having sex💀 but reader real8ses that they never really defined their relationship and assumes he's just using her and that they're not anything and the driver is totally oblivious to all this lol😭😭 and anyway a while later reader either introduces him as her friend or flirts with someone else in front of him and he gets rlly pissed and jealous??? And they have a fight and she explains everything and he comforts herrrr❤️❤️❤️ amd then later sets up this big cheesy display to actually ask her out loll anyway yeah you ofc don't have to write this if you don't want to but if you do, enjoy❤️

some of you anons are so sweet I love you

decided to do max bc I have so many Oscar works

You chewed on the skin of your finger. Sat next to Max in the hospitality, he was paying more attention to his phone than you. “What do you think about going to dinner Tuesday night?”

A dry sounding laugh. “I’d rather eat you out.”

You blinked at how direct it was. Your fingers tapped against the table. “Okay.” Was all you could manage as your brain ran wild.

He’d turned down a date. Said he’d prefer sex. As you thought about it, there wasn’t really an occasion where he did take you out.

You weren’t even dating. He’d never made if official, never called you his girlfriend or treated you much like one.

Holy shit it’s hit you like a bullet train.

You were just an object for him to use whenever he needed a good fuck. He was using you.

He only looked up from his phone when you walked off. He called after you, asking where you were off to. You didn’t give him an answer.

The restroom stall clicked closed, securing you in the confined space. The thoughts spoke before you could suppress them.

You were nothing to him but a fuck buddy. You meant nothing. You cared for him, but he didn’t care for you. You were just convenient. Only by his side to satisfy his needs. Did he even see you as a person?

Despite being upset by your revelation, you couldn’t resist his advances later that night.

Weeks on, you still couldn’t help yourself, occasionally accepting his late-night booty calls. But you never enjoyed it as much as you used to.

He’d managed to get himself invited as your plus one to your friend’s beach party. No problem, you’d ditched him easily in the large crowd.

You were chatting with one of your friends when a guy approached. Tan skin. Dark, wavy hair. Hypnotic green eyes. Muscled, too. Toned arms and chest.

Oh, shit. You’d been shamelessly checking him out.

“-and this is, y/n.” Your friend introduced, breaking into your thoughts.

“Yeah. Hi.” You chuckled, cheeks burning—and it wasn’t from the heat. “Sorry, what was your name again? I didn’t quite catch it.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, licked your lips.

His laugh was as captivating as he was. “Andreas.” He flashed his teeth.

“Handsome name. Spanish?” You guessed.

He nodded. “Only the name is handsome?”

Your friend had left the scene. When, you weren’t sure. But she was no longer stood by your side. Your eyes explored his body again. “You’re not terrible looking.” You shrugged.

He laughed again. “And you are gorgeous.” He stepped forward. “Are you seeing anyone?”

You shrugged. “Nothing serious.”

Before he could say anything, an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you. “What’s going on here?” The Dutch accent was plain enough. You didn’t have to look to know it was Max, or know that he was fuming.

“Oh! Andreas, this is my friend Max! Max, Andreas.”

“Oh! Verstappen, right? Man, this is incredible, it’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

Max eyed the outstretched offer and laughed humorlessly. “Yeah.” He muttered before dragging you off.

“Wha- Max! Hey-!” You stumbled after him, struggling to find footing in the uneven sand. “Where are we going?”

“Home!”

You scoffed. “Incase you forgot, we don’t live together.”

He ignored you.

“Max! Let me at least say bye it’s rude to-“

“Fine.” He spat the words like venom, still gripping onto your hand.

You led him this time, over to where your friend stood. You apologized to your friend, wished her happy birthday yet again, and bade her goodbye.

The car ride back to Max’s home was silent but tense. He glanced over at you every few seconds. You kept your eyes on the streets outside.

“What the hell was that?” He accused as the door boomed closed.

You sighed. “What was what?”

“You fucking-“ he scoffed like he’d processed your question mid sentence. “-you were fucking flirting with someone else! In front of a near hundred people!”

You threw yourself on the couch, taking up the entirety of it. Another sigh. You were in no mood for his theatrics nor to entertain them. “And why does that matter to you?”

A singular laugh of disbelief. He marched right over, standing by your side. No matter, your eyes were on the ceiling anyway. “Because you’re with me!” He cried in outrage.

Uninterested, you turned your head. Slow. “Am I now?” You raised your brows.

His jaw dropped. Silence. And then a quiet question. “Are you fucking serious?”

Sat up too quickly, your head spun momentarily. Your brows furrowed. “You have only ever paid attention to me when you want my fucking body!” Your calmness had shattered, replaced by the pent up rage of the last few weeks. You got to your feet. “You only take me to races and then pose me as your girlfriend because it’s convenient for you. The only reason I exist in your life is to please you.” Your finger jabbed in his chest with every point. “And you have no right to claim that I’m with you because we have never been on a single fucking date! Not in the five months you’ve been fucking me. I even asked you about going out to dinner and you told me you’d rather have sex.” You scoffed. The hot tears flowing down your face only became known to you when you turned away.

The back of your hand lay flat on your forehead as you took a shaky breath. You whipped around, a weak arm motioning to him. “You… I thought I meant something to you. For the longest time I-“ you choked, shrugged. “Stupid me.”

Max stood. Stunned. Speechless.

He never saw it as you had. Never thought of you as just a fuck-buddy or someone he uses to please himself. Girlfriend, he wasn’t sure if that was the word. Wasn’t ever sure if you even wanted that kind of label. But definitely dating—if there was even a difference between the two. He thought inviting you to races and ordering room service were considered dates. He thought you weren’t into lavish dinners and preferred quiet nights in. Clearly, he was an idiot.

And he told you as much, nearly word for word.

Again, you found the couch. Max sat beside you. “Evidently, we’re both terrible at communicating.” You gave a weak laugh.

“We can be better now, though.”

He had it all laid out. Your favorites scattered around his flat. Dinner plated by candlelight. Dessert on a crystal platter in the kitchen. A projector set up in the living room, prepared to display your favorite movie. Pillows and blankets lined the sofa to make it more comfortable.

And he stood in his nicest tuxedo—potentially too fancy, but it would make his point.

The front door creaked open, and in came you. In sweats and shocked. “Max what is this?” You chuckled. “What are you wearing?”

Your eyes glanced around the room, sparkling in the candlelight. A lavish display. So unlike the Max you knew, but not unappreciated.

He sported a nervous smile. “I’ve been stupid. And I want to correct that.” He pulled out a vase of your favourite flowers and held them out to you. “Will you be my girlfriend?” His voice shook, as did his hand.

You smiled softly, sheepishly. Took slow steps until you reached him. You stared at the flowers. At him. “I can’t tell if I’m underdressed or if you’re overdressed.”

“You’re overdressed. Too many clothes, I think you should take them off.” He grinned. Your brows shot up. “Sorry. Sorry. I- fuck, right.” He cleared his throat. “You look gorgeous.”

You smiled and shook your head. On your tip toes, you kissed his cheek. “Yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

[butterymangowrites]

ten years in the making

paring: bakugou katsuki x fem reader

warnings: smut, non-con/dub-con, no-quirks au, high school love confession, unrequited love turned very requited, almost non-con threesome, feels like cheating (but technically not), no cheating though, fuck boi bakugou, pining reader, obsessive/possessive bakugou, running away, biting, marking, creampie, breeding kink, angst, toxic relationship

word count: 6.2k

You still had the love letter you handed to him when you were both in high school. His spiky blonde hair was pretty under the spring sun, red eyes examining the envelope in your hands with a disgusted look on his face. 

On the rooftop of the school building, the wind blew extra hard. The chill of winter that lingered in the breeze made your face cold, but it was the rejection from Katsuki that numbed your whole body. 

“Take that shit away,” he sneered. “Be lame somewhere else. I don’t like you.” 

It was pathetic how you fixated on him because he helped you once from a petty thief who tried to steal your wallet. You shouldn’t have liked him that much, not when he was so clear in his stance on how he felt about you. But you were also just a girl, and girls had crushes on Bakugou Katsuki—you were just one of many, but no doubt the most pathetic one. 

Cause while others grew out of their crushes eventually, you did not. And Katsuki, being the spawn of the devil that he was, started to see you as some sort of entertainment. 

You followed him through university, enrolling in the same one. You begged your mom to stay at a dorm near campus, the same dorm Katsuki told you he would stay in. He lied. You knew on the moving day because he texted you photos of his new place from the front of the building to the room with an obviously different layout. 

The text said, ‘lol you really thought u got me huh?’ 

That sentence needed commas, and you… needed to get a grip. Yet, you did not. 

Still trying to be close to him, you went to every party he went to, even if it meant you had to see him with a different woman each time. He never stuck with one, telling you he was easily bored and that was why you and him would never happen. Because you were a soppy, hopeless romantic who would wait for him like a dog waiting for its owner to come home—his words. 

“When will it get through your thick skull, dog?” Katsuki rapped on your forehead with his knuckles. “You’re not my type.” 

Well, his type exited the room just now, leaving only you and a very naked Katsuki in it. He loomed over you menacingly close, trying once again to talk some sense into you, albeit in a very mean fashion. Tonight, he was particularly cruel. After texting you to buy him a box of condoms—stating a specific brand, flavor, and size—he made you sit and watch until the very end. 

You pretended to pay attention, but what you really looked at was the wall behind the scene playing in front of you. 

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten.” You changed the subject, ignoring his hot breath that fanned over your face.

“Yeah, mom misses you like hell,” he jeered. “How did you do it, inserting yourself into my family?” 

It was simple, actually, just offering to drive him home for a monthly family visit with a gift for his mom and dad every time, without fail, even though he got his own car. His mom, Mitsuki, never trusted his driving skills anyway, saying he was too reckless. So she was grateful for you, to the point of inviting you over for dinner as thanks whenever you dropped her son home, and you accepted the kindness. 

Katsuki would roll his eyes, but he let it all happen, cause why would he say no to a personal chauffeur? All he had to do was sit prettily and blast his one-hour playlist until the car was parked in front of his childhood abode. And after eating and helping with the dishes, you would be gone, back to your own family house a couple of streets away—convenient. 

You knew you were just a tool to Katsuki, his lackey, but you were also as stubborn as a mule. 

And as dumb as a clown… 

After many years hounding for Katsuki’s attention, you finally got it when you were both twenty five. The first time he kissed you, he was drunk in your apartment. He was frustrated with a colleague who screwed up an important meeting with a potential client and decided to come rant your ears off with two packs of beer—one for him, one for you. 

You never thought the night would end up with him pinning you to the floor, his mouth devouring yours and his hands popping the buttons of your work shirt until your bra-clad tits showed. 

“Thought you would follow me anywhere,” said Katsuki, red eyes locked onto you from where he was, face nestled between the soft mounds of your breasts. “But you chose a different company, live far away from me, texting seven times in seven months. Traitor.” 

“You’re heavy.” Your words struggled to come out. From when he used to be lanky and the same height as you, he was none of that now. The growth spurt hit him like a freight train. In the blink of an eye, he grew into a giant of a man, tall and filled with muscles, even more so now that he was in his salaryman era. You wondered how he still found time to work out as often as he did when you barely caught any sleep. 

After graduation, you both landed jobs in different companies. And if you were being honest with yourself, you would say the reason you accepted the offer was partly because running after Katsuki and answering his every beck and call started to… tire you. Forced by duty and responsibility, it helped you distance yourself away from him. Cause Lord, you doubted you could have done it on your own.

Getting his text today saying he would come visit, you were dumbfounded, even thinking it was a joke til you got another text an hour later saying he arrived.

You shouldn’t have let him in, shouldn’t have reconnected. You were almost off the noose before he came and adjusted the knot, tightening it. After that night, he came visit once a week on Friday. Kisses slowly evolved into soft touches, then heavy petting, and finally—sex. 

Fucking your brain out, that was what he did most of the times, leaving your ass red and face wet from crying. On rare occasions, it was slow, deep, like he wanted to mold you into the shape of his cock. But all was intense, asking for eye contact and name-saying, and it was Katsuki who did the asking, which surprised you to no end. 

“You wanna come home? Mom and dad miss you,” mumbled Katsuki one autumn night. It had been three months since that first drunken kiss. “They got a new dog. But old people are always lonely, hell knows why.”

With that, not only him, but the monthly visit returned, too. 

Their dog was a loudmouthed chihuahua named Katsumi. It barked at you non-stop from the moment you got out of the car, louder when Mitsuki raced out the front door to hug you. After dinner, it found you and Katsuki in the laundry room with its master’s teeth nibbling down your neck and barked snappily, making Katsuki jump.

When you let out a roar of laughter, his eyes widened with a look of what seemed like wonder. His pupils dilated when he leaned down to take your lips in a fierce kiss. For a moment, everything was perfect. 

Had you mentioned being dumb? 

A month later, there was a knock on your door. Katsuki hips slowed down mid-pounding before he stepped back from you and the bed, leaving you empty. 

“Keep your ass up. Don’t fucking move.”

You only let out a soft hum as a response, not understanding why or who would be here at this hour. Were you too loud? Maybe someone was here to complain. You pondered, face still down against the soft mattress with your rear up as instructed. Katsuki would handle them, whoever they were. 

“Well, I see why you never call anymore, Katsuki-kun.” 

The voice was close, too close—its owner was in the bedroom with you. When the realization hit, you bolted, shooting out of your position and scooting back, all the while pulling the duvet up to shield your nakedness from the newcomer’s eyes.

She was a woman about your age and height, standing at the foot of the bed in a skimpy dress. 

“Do me a favor. Shut the fuck up,” said Katsuki, confirming they really did know each other. 

It was like your brain stopped functioning. You saw Katsuki walking towards you but was too slow to think what your next move should be. So you let him pull you to him by the duvet because you wouldn’t let go of it. When he sat you on his lap, you felt something wet gliding down your cheeks.

“Hush now, princess.” He wiped the dripping drops with both of his thumbs. “You seriously thought our relationship was exclusive? You thought you fixed me?” 

Another set of fat tears cascaded down when he kissed you, seasoning the kiss salty. 

“Seven months, seven texts, no calls,” he said. “Who do you think you fucking are, leaving me like that?”

You knew, you knew it was too good to be true. And when he turned to the other side to kiss the woman who was now naked and sitting on the bed—your bed–beside him, you also knew it was time to let go. The silly crush, the well-kept love letter, the admiration that you should have weaned off long ago—they all needed to go. 

Getting up from his lap while he was distracted, you gathered your clothes off the floor and left the bedroom without turning back. You got dressed in the living room and closed the front door silently when you left the apartment. You didn’t want him to hear, not wanting to cause a scene, not wanting to see him anymore. 

You were sitting in the car in the apartment parking lot, trying to find a hotel to crash at when you got a text from Katsuki.

‘you thought you got me huh?’ 

You blocked him. 

There was only a month left on your apartment’s lease; you would give a notice to your landlord tomorrow that you would move. Everything would be alright, you told yourself. Katsuki might never bother you anymore since he had got what he wanted—your absolute humiliation.

It was different from that one time he told you to stay and watch him rail the life out of that girl when you were in college. At that time, you knew you were nothing to him, knew he did that to hurt you. This time, you thought you were something to him. And it hurt, a thousand times worse to realize that you weren’t, and that he still wanted to hurt you. 

—

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Those were the only words spinning around in his head since you were gone, really gone. You walked out of that door so fucking demurely. Even when he stopped kissing his ex-booty call to listen, he didn’t hear you wail or see you come crawling back. 

So he texted, leaving the girl he called here to demean you to quickly type on his phone. When the message was marked ‘read’ but got no response, he cursed, “Fuck!” 

“Come on, Katsuki-kun. Let’s have some fun,” the girl whined. 

“Sh!” He shushed her, still tapping the screen.  

She probably looked at him like he was possessed by an evil spirit, but he couldn’t care less. 

‘Who did you think you were? My gf? Lol.’

He was so in a hurry he forgot to type in lowercase. 

‘Lovesick foll’

‘*fool’

‘Where u going’

‘Dont wanna watch’

‘?’

You didn’t read at all except for the first text. That made him get off the bed and get dressed, running out of the apartment to punch the elevator down to the first floor. When he exited the building, your sedan was already on the street; he saw the taillights, remembered the plate. It got farther in each second that passed, and there was not a darn thing he could do about it. 

Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck shit, fucking fuck. 

For some reason he knew, this time, you were gone for good. Not an absence the next day at school after he told you he lost his virginity to some girl in another class, not the seven months with a few texts to check in with him. This time, it was for good. 

Like hell he was gonna let that happen. 

—

You ended up staying at the hotel for a week, scared Katsuki might still be lurking around. While you knew he got his biggest fill of breaking you this time, you wanted to be sure. Then, as soon as you found a new place, you moved out. 

At work, you asked your boss, Aizawa, for a transfer to another branch, telling him it was for personal reasons. You swore you saw him squint his weary eyes, but after asking you a couple more questions, he agreed nonetheless.

“If it were stress, it’d be no different in another branch. Hope you know that,” Aizawa drawled. 

“I do, sir,” you replied, tired from the poor quality of sleep your situation and the hotel bed gave you. 

“And as soon as possible, you say?”

“Yes, sir,” you affirmed. “Please.” 

The transfer was done in one week, all thanks to your boss. 

Restarting your mundane life, it took two months for you to regain some sort of peace found in everyday’s routine—waking up, going to work, coming home, sleeping, waking up again. There was no contact from Katsuki, only the ghost of his taunts that came hand in hand with the memories of his caresses you could not dispel remained, making guilt creep up your spine every time you touched yourself to climax imagining it was his hand. 

You would find someone else. You and Katsuki, it was ten years in the making. You were fifteen years old on that rooftop, confessing to a boy you thought was the most beautiful person in the world, having no clue how your action would play out. It would not be possible to banish those ten years in two months, no matter how despicable he was to you. And that was a shame. 

It took one phone call from Mitsuki to disrupt your normalcy. 

“I just wanted to know how you were doing, honey.” said Katsuki’s mom, sounding worried. “It’s just—you’re gone again, like those months. And Katsuki won’t tell me what’s going on, which means something must have happened. I need to—I—”

She was trying to find words, and you didn’t want to interrupt. 

“I need to know you’re okay.” She finally let it out. “Just come visit, honey. You don’t have to bring my son.”

“We miss you.” 

It was those words that brought you to the Bakugou house the following weekend. 

“Oh, honey.” Misuki stopped before you, eyeing you from head to toe. Katsumi barked incessantly, all the while trying to sniff the bag of fresh-baked cookies you bought for the family. When the woman beckoned you to come close and enfolded you in her arms, you teared up a bit. 

“That airhead of a son,” the older woman grumbled. 

Getting in the house thwarted all the cold delightfully. You put your coat on the couch next to where you sat, waiting for the tea Mitsuki said she was going to get. You always liked the Bakugou house, asking Katsuki to walk him home every day just to see it from the outside. He never let you in. Ironically enough, it was never him who invited you in, it was his mom. 

Where was Mitsuki now? You looked around for the matriarch, but instead, you saw Katsuki. 

“About time you showed up.” 

There was so much fighting, so much push and pull, and trying to run away, and crying for help; yet, no one came. Katsuki had to carry you on his shoulder to go upstairs because you resisted profusely and refused to walk on your own. 

Door closed, lock clicked. A second later, you were dropped on his bed unceremoniously. You had never been in his room before and didn’t want to now. But since there was no choice, you took the opportunity to look around, taking everything in. 

His room was so… boy. A drum set in one corner, an expensive-looking gaming PC in another with a shelf filled with mangas and action figures next to it, posters of his favorite anime character plastering all over the walls. 

You remembered he liked All Might, the blonde-haired hero from a shonen manga you didn’t read but knew every detail from Katsuki’s ceaseless babble. You even broke into your savings buying a dozen raffle tickets till you won the big prize—a large figure he said he was saving up for—and gave it to him as a birthday present. 

He probably didn’t keep it. 

“Don’t be mad at mom, okay? I was on my knees begging her for help. That was on me,” Katsuki spoke softly, as if he was trying not to spook you. “Old hag hit me so hard dad had to intervene. But I’m her son. You understand, right? She would never abandon me.”

It was him between you and the door; you just needed to get past him, unlock the door and run. Slowly, you got out of the bed to stand on your own feet. The moment they touched the floor, however, was brief. Because Katsuki leaped from where he stood, taking him only two strides before he got you again. 

Back on the bed, you fought him tooth and nail, punching, kicking, biting, while he tried to sedate you with a soothing voice. But there was nothing soothing or gentle about this man—a monster. You saw through him. 

His grip on your wrists was immovable, anchoring you to the bed with one hand. He caged your body with his, examining you like a predator sizing up its prey, his presence all domineering, demanding obedience. 

“Shhh, settle down. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he coaxed. 

“Let me go!” 

All you could move now was your legs, which you did to your best ability, but to no avail. Katsuki waited it out, allowing you to try however you want to get away without saying anything. Eventually, you stilled, so exhausted you couldn't move anymore. 

“There, there. That’s my good princess,” he murmured, his usual harsh features softening. 

Frustration brought tears to your eyes. It took less than you thought, easier than expected, to suck it all up and spill everything that occupied your mind. 

“What do you want? What do you want from me, Katsuki? I'm sorry I confessed to you that day. It was pathetic. I was pathetic. But please—please.” Your voice got hoarse and lost at the second please. You had to cough to get it back. “I have learned my lesson. You and me, it will never happen—will never work out. I know that now. I get it, believe me, I do,” you choked through your tears, pleading. “I won't like you anymore, Katsuki, so please—let me go.” 

“Like me?” he reiterated. “I thought you loved me.”

“What?” 

He sighed, his free hand searching for something in one of his sweatpants’ pockets. When he pulled his hand out, you saw a letter—the one you gave it to him and got rejected. All these years, it had been kept with you, safely in your trinket box. Now, it was in his hand, opened. He finally accepted it, but at what cost? 

“I need you to read it to me,” he commanded, “out loud.” 

“Please, don’t make me do this.” 

“Listen,” he said. “I’m going to let go of your wrists and give you this letter that you wrote for me, and you’re going to read it—word—for—word.” He used the envelope to brush down the bridge of your nose. “If you tear it up—if you do, princess—I’m going to make you rewrite it. And it better be as good, if not better, than this one.”

He let go of your wrists and gave you the letter. 

“Oh, and if you run,” he added. “I’ll catch you, and we start over. Clear?” 

You nodded and took the envelope, hands shaking noticeably when you took the letter out. Everything was under Katsuki’s observation. He sat astride your thighs without putting all his weight on you, waiting patiently. 

“To Katsuki, if you are reading this, that means you accepted my letter, thank you!” You wiped tears out of your eyes to see better. “I know you get a lot of letters like this. It must be a bit of a hassle reading love confessions everyday, right? But please bear with me, I will try to keep this—” 

Interrupted, you looked past the letter and saw Katsuki lifting the hem of your sweater up and leaning down to place a kiss on your exposed stomach.

“Go on,” he prompted. “Don’t mind me. Don’t stop.” 

“I will try to keep this short,” you continued, completing the last sentence, trying to ignore the fact that your jeans were being unbuttoned and pulled down. “You know, girls in our class often say they love your hair, your eyes, but a lot of them are scared of your personality.” You felt his breath through your panties, hot. “I disagree. I think you are nice, brave, and kind. And don’t get me wrong, I love your hair and eyes too.”

“You’re cute, baby,” said Katsuki as he pried your legs open. Without taking off the underwear, he licked your pussy through it. 

“Katsuki!” 

Dragging his tongue up, he mumbled, “Keep reading.”

“And I love you.” You read on and saw his eyes roll back at that specific sentence. 

Suddenly, he switched from licking to sucking, making the crotch all wet with his saliva. You were preparing to read the next part when he made it all the more difficult by moving aside the damp fabric and rubbing his face into your naked cunt. His nose, lips, chin, all soaked in your embarrassing glossy juice. You cursed yourself for giving in, for getting wet. 

“Did I tell you to stop?” 

You let out a sob, raising the letter in your hands up again to read. 

“I know we don’t know each other well, and this feeling is not reciprocated—”

Why did he have to slurp the juice like that? He made it hard, so hard for you. 

“I’m—just a classmate after—all. But what I said, I said it with—a sincere—heart. So even if—you don’t love me back, please—let me keep—this feeling, I promise I—will treasure it.”

Panting sharply, you stopped before the next paragraph when you felt his tongue massaging your clit. Grasping his hair with both of your hands, you forgot you still held the letter. There was an audible scrunch when it was crumpled up in one of your fists.

Katsuki stopped dead in his tracks, glaring up from below; his red orbs seemed redder all of a sudden. “Did you just crumple the letter?” 

You pulled your hands back quickly when you realized, strengthening out the paper as best as you could. The creases weren’t that bad. You showed it to him, ensuring that it was still intact. 

He relaxed. You released a held breath. 

Back to concentrating on the handwritten texts, this time, you vowed to not look at him anymore and would just just read through everything as fast as you could—getting it done. Nevertheless, when he was back on eating your pussy and pride out, it did not get easier, Katsuki still managed to make you writhe like your life depended on it. 

“One more thing, I don’t know if you remember, but thank you for—saving me that day in front of the mini mart.” You tried to recall the event, the beginning of everything. “The thief would have—hurt me, and I would have lost—my wallet.” 

And it was just that, just you trying to yank your wallet back from the thief's hands, the popsicle you just bought lying on the ground, melting. The store staff was on the phone with the police—you heard it—but they didn’t come out. Katsuki did. 

When the thief was about to lay his hand on you, the blonde haired boy whom you recognized as your classmate kicked him in the shin. Moving fast, Katsuki then slammed his school backpack on the thief’s head, once, twice, thrice, on and on until he knocked him out. 

“You were my hero.” You read the last sentence, finishing the letter as he finished you.

You set the paper down on your side, finally freed from the evidence of your teenage self’s stupidity. Feeling weightless from the orgasm, all you could do was stare at the ceiling. After what felt like forever, Katsuki appeared in your field of vision, hovering over you, now shirtless… and pantless. You weren’t aware when he took them off, too lost in your own world. 

“You can't just stop loving me,” he said before bending down to kiss your cheek, then whispered, “Take responsibility. Be true to your words, dumbass.” 

“Katsuki, you’re being selfish.” You turned your face away, fleeing him.  

His red eyes sharpened. “After all this time you have showered me with love and attention, and you want to—take it away?” 

“There will be others who love you and give you all the attention you need,” you argued. “I’m not that person.”  

“No! Fucking no! Shut up!” he barked, turning your face back to him and silencing you with a kiss. 

Even with the heater warming up the room, the cold air that seeped through the walls and windows still reached your naked form. After being rid of your sweater, bra, and drenched panties, the only warmth you could find was from Katsuki’s body. And he made sure to share it with you so generously. 

Pain after pain, bite after bite. Katsuki would not stop no matter how desperately you begged him to. Your skin was his canvas, not only your neck, but your cheeks, breasts, belly, arms, thighs, calves; they were tender and hurt to touch. You would have to refrain yourself from looking into the mirror for too long, maybe. Luckily it was winter, this way, nobody would bat an eye if you covered yourself up like it was minus twenty celsius. 

“I’m gonna fuck you raw, okay? Haven’t fucked anyone since you left. You gotta take care of me, princess.” 

“Don’t bullshit me,” you returned. “You fucked that girl.” 

And it still hurt just thinking about it.

“Did not.”

Even so, had he gone mad? He sounded like it. Wearing condoms was the strictest rule of his when it came to sex. As far as you knew, he never broke it once, not for anyone, not for you. But you could be wrong—you didn’t want to—because now, he actually looked eager to go through with it, fucking you bareback.

Too risky, too intimate. 

“You’ll regret it. Please just—think before you act.” 

Trying to reason with Katsuki, you also attempted to move away. Big mistake. Catching you by your thighs, he forced himself closer and wrapped your legs around his waist. Then, he placed his unshielded cock on your folds and pushed it down a bit for the head to slither in, just the tip, nothing more. 

“Katsuki, no!” 

“Katsuki, yes,” he said, mockingly, and shoved it all in.  

—

The bed shook and squeaked annoyingly from how hard he rammed into your tight weeping hole, but the moans you were trying, but not so successfully, to suppress were so adorable he was able to overlook it and focus on you instead. He never knew his bed did this, never brought anyone home to fuck before. 

He almost spilled in the first five minutes, having to slow down to prolong the feeling of being wrapped and rubbed by a pussy, skin to skin. And you—lying there with your brows frowned and tits bouncing—did not help shit. Trying feebly to push him away when he swooped down for a kiss only stirred up his excitement, making him go rougher until you gasped and gave in.

What a soft and tempting little lamb you were. He wanted to brand you with his cum and give you his fucking name, knocking you up with a couple of brats for you and him to take to school and hear a teacher address you as Mrs. Bakugou with his own ears.

Since the day you handed him that letter, you had never been anyone else’s but his. Must have been fate, he didn’t know, didn’t care about a what-if either. His only regret was that he could have had a taste of you sooner, but he would call it a story arc and leave it at that—he had you now anyway. 

“Say my name, princess,” he demanded.

“Kat—suki.”

“Again.”

“Katsuki!”

This was worth it. The tirade of rebuke his mom delivered to his ears and the smacks on the head while saying she never taught him to be like this when he came clean about what he did to you—all was worth it. 

“I’ll get her back, mom,” Katsuki convinced. “We’ll get her back.” 

“You better.” 

It was convenient that his mom already liked you as if you were the one who popped out of her vagina and not him. Well, they were the same in that aspect. Who would have thought it would come to this day, the day he wanted to trap you in his home, when just a decade earlier, he would never have had the slightest idea of granting you the permission to step past the front gate. 

“She’s a good kid,” his mom commented. “The same girl who walked you home and bought you that All Might figure, no?” 

“Yeah.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. 

“Aha.” 

“Will you help me or not?” he asked, irritated. He had been kneeling at her feet for like fifteen minutes. 

“Watch your tone, boy.” Mitsuki’s voice hardened. His dad’s hand over her shoulder rubbed gently to calm her quick temper down. 

“Tch!” 

The tiny mutt chose that moment to strut into the living room, stealing his mom’s attention. She leaned down to pick it up and put it on her lap. It looked down at him, tongue lolling out of its mouth. Conceited little fucker. 

“You know why I named her Katsumi, Katsuki?” 

“Oh, don’t give me that shit.” 

“Katsuki,” his dad said in a reprimanding tone. 

“She reminds me of you, angry for no reason, always bark, bark, bark. It gets lonely around here, so why not.” Mitsuki smiled, scratching her new child’s head. “And you—remind me of her.”

Katsuki squinted his eyes, kinda knew where this was going. 

“A dog, waiting for its owner to come home.” 

She was not wrong. 

“Yes, I will help you, son.” 

A series of bangs on the door broke through the memory and his euphoria. He just came, hard, pouring his pent-up, ripe seeds far up your cunt, and someone wanted to butt in now? Katsuki huffed, but refused to get up and find out who wanted what, dead set on keeping you plugged up. 

Another rapping on the door, then a voice followed. “That’s enough, Katsuki. Let the poor thing out.” 

Of course, it had to be his mom. 

“Go away, hag.” 

“Bakugou Katsuki!” 

“We’ll be out!” 

Just not now. He omitted, and it worked. Mitsuki carried a string of grumbles and footsteps with her, leaving nothing behind. Katsuki turned to you, still under him, in time to see you avert your gaze away. Cute. 

“Can I go now?” you asked. 

“No.” He changed positions, turning over onto his back and getting you on top of him, cock still snug inside your walls. He hoped he didn’t spill a single drop.

“Katsuki, I don’t want to fight anymore.” 

“Then don’t, baby.” 

“I can’t live like this. Please”—you pleaded with your eyes—“don't hurt me anymore.” 

He couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at your frail tone. Looking at you, he saw a woman with dark rings under her eyes, beautiful, but she looked like she had seen better days—a stark contrast to the girl who held out a letter towards him on that spring day, wind in her hair, kindness abundant enough to share. 

Before he knew it, words were out of his mouth. “I wish I had hurt you less.” 

It would not have been possible for him to not hurt you at all. He knew himself well enough to believe otherwise. He also knew, for certain, how he would like the story to go. 

“Do you still love me? Like you wrote in that letter.” he whispered. “Am I still your hero, princess?”

“You don’t”—you gritted your teeth—“have the right to ask me those questions.” 

“I’ll be yours. I want to.” And fuck, he really did, just thinking about it woke his flaccid cock up, rigid again inside of you. Putting his hands on both of your asscheeks, he grinded you up and down. “Do you still love me?”

You kept quiet, unyielding, only small, faint gasps could be heard. 

“Guess that’s not important.” Katsuki decided. “I’ll keep you first—fuck the answer out of you later.”

Panic flashed upon your expression at his declaration, and gasps turned into lustful whimpers when he started slamming your hips up and down his erect shaft.

“How long are you gonna make me wait? A year? A decade? As revenge, maybe?” He took your sweet mouth, hand pressing down the nape of your neck to keep it still. “House will be full of brats by then, but take your time, princess.”

“This will never work out. It won’t. It won’t,” you cried, shutting your eyes tight. “I can’t share you.”

Katsuki didn’t know why, but you not wanting to share him was sexy as shit. The mere thought of sharing you, however, made him want to put something on fire. Was this jealousy people were talking about? It burnt like a bitch. 

“Who said anything about sharing?” he grunted, slapping your jouncing ass, making you squeal. “And this goes both ways, princess. Don’t think I would let anyone touch you.” 

He was pissed just imagining it, which was nowhere near healthy, but who wanted that. He just wanted you, in any way he possibly could. 

“I’m—I’m gonna come,” you spluttered, convulsing around him. 

“That’s it. Come on my cock, baby. Make your man proud.” 

Your velvety walls tightened, constricting his cock and milking it when ropes of cum shot out. 

Sucked dry and spent, Katsuki closed his eyes and tried to rein in his breath. When he reopened them, it was to check if you were still with him—you were, resting on his chest with one cheek against it. Out of cuteness aggression, he pinched the other side.

You let out a short screech. “That hurt!”

The thought of marking you reared its head, biting where it hadn’t been bitten yet, hurting you a little more. But he stifled it, saving it for later. 

Steering himself to another matter, he said, “You never texted me back.”

“I blocked you.” 

“Figured.” Katsuki nodded. 

“Deserved.”

“Unblock me.”

You sighed.

—

The messages wouldn’t go through even if you unblocked him. That was how the application worked, which was fine with him. Scrolling through the one-sided chat, he could sense urgency and desperation through each letter, and some messages actually sounded mental. It would be for the best if you didn’t see them. 

‘Answer’ 

‘i didn’t fuck her, she left. Now fucking answer’ 

‘come back, i wont be mad. where u at.’ 

‘I am still at your apartment, u. didn’t come back. where r u’ 

‘i fucking found your letter. i’ll find u too’ 

“You—kept my present?” 

Katsuki looked up from his phone to your towel-swathed form, fresh out of the shower. Following your line of sight, he was directed to the bottom of the bookshelf where an All Might figure was set—his seventeenth birthday present from you. It was one of his top favorites, but he would never tell you that.

“I’m not stupid enough to throw things I like away, I’ll have you know.” He scowled and went back to scrolling on his phone. 

‘so u moved away huh?’ 

‘need you. don’t wanna fuck my hand anymore :(’ 

‘never mind, bitch’ 

‘u love me huh?’ 

‘Pathetic’ 

‘didnt mean that’ 

‘need u’ 

‘i'm an attention seeking whore who abuses your love to get the validation i want.’

‘sorry’ 

‘there i said it.’ 

‘now come back’ 

Yeah, you didn’t have to know any of that.

[pantoneyoongi]

in love with love (with you) || slow dance

series ; in love with love (with you)  description ; you’re a romantic. jungkook? jungkook is not. 

title ; slow dance

word count ; 3.9k

notes ; 

a drabble for the in love with love (with you) series! in which jungkook did not (but also didn’t not) take you to prom. (or: among the first of many times jungkook makes excuses just to be good to you.) 

tags ; high school!au, fluff, sickening levels of fluff, my god i love them, the tiniest bit of angst if you squint, frenemies to lovers, this is like mostly unedited but oh well, no u don’t understand i really really love them so much, pls go to main masterlist for more / general tags 

you don’t go to prom with jungkook. 

actually, you don’t go to prom with anyone. you suppose you could’ve asked taehyung or jimin to come home - they would’ve - but you can’t bring yourself to ask them to pay for a flight right around their finals season at university, just to come and take you to a high school dance. you really can’t justify it. especially not when you do technically have someone to spend the night with, even if you didn’t, technically, go with him. 

see, you and jungkook are not friends. you’re also not not friends. your relationship with jungkook is a lot of nots, and not nots. like, his tie doesn’t match your dress. it also doesn’t not match your dress. the color is just one shade off. 

and he didn’t ask you to go with him, and you certainly didn’t ask him, but he still showed up with a corsage for you, claiming that he had to buy it as a set with his boutonniere, and then muttering some kind of excuse about his mom wanting to see him with the boutonniere, and it’s not like he has a date either, so he may as well give you the corsage, because who else would he give it to? 

which is funny, in retrospect, because it’s not like jungkook is incapable of getting a date. unlike you, jungkook is popular, well liked, and - while you would never be caught dead admitting this - terribly handsome. at least, according to your classmates he is. he has round eyes that shine when he gets excited and his two front teeth are just slightly more pronounced, so he always looks a bit like a bunny, and the hair that falls just so over his eyes is impossibly soft, something you know only because you yank on it every so often whenever he’s managed to irritate you more than usual (especially now that jisoo isn’t around to stop you from tearing his hair out). 

he’s handsome in all the ways a high school senior could be. he’s even got the charming personality to match, as long as he’s talking to anyone that isn’t you. there was probably a long line of people - across all year levels - just hoping he’d ask. but he didn’t. 

so, yeah. you don’t go to prom with jungkook. 

you also don’t not go to prom with jungkook. because he’s the one who drives you to the venue - “it’s easier to carpool, anyways, and i don’t trust your driving skills,” so the two of you show up together. your eyes go wide at the sight of the fancy hotel - glittering chandeliers, plush, carpeted floors, smooth, dark wood bordering the entrance. jungkook steps in beside you, looking unimpressed with the decor, but he doesn’t leave your side, either. lets you take it all in, lips parting with awe, a smile slowly forming on your face. he’s more interested in watching the emotions flit across your face than he is with the grandeur - all your excitement, the mesmerization, the giddiness. you don’t have a date, but anything can happen. the scene has already been set - so what the main lead opposite you has yet to be cast? 

you’ve always fantasized of a beautiful, perfect prom night. the same way you dreamed about a handsome senior whisking you off your feet when you were a freshman, or having a sophomore year classmate be the perfect gentleman for you and offering you his hoodie in that one class you had where the air conditioner was always on a little too high. even junior year, when you should have reasonably broken out of your childish daydreams, you wondered about a boyfriend who might study with you as you prepared for college entrance exams, someone to drape a blanket over your shoulders when you fell asleep on your textbooks. 

but prom - prom had a four year lead-up. prom had the gorgeous backdrop, and the glittering decorations, and the lavish dress. prom had the adorable promposals that you watched seniors give their dates every year until you became a senior waiting for one, too. even though you knew it would never come. 

still. maybe somebody will catch your eye from across the floor. slow dance with you, twirl you around, place a hand at your back, tip you low, maybe even kiss you at the end of the night. tuck that one, inevitable stray hair behind your ear. stare at you like you hung the moon and stars yourself. 

jungkook can’t say he understands, but he’ll let you have it, at least for tonight. the teasing can wait till morning. for some reason, he can’t muster his usual antics right now. something about your dress, the blush across your cheeks, the delicate necklace brushing your collarbones - any number of these things combined, even - makes the words die on his lips every time he tries. 

you look so beautiful, it makes him breathless, but he won’t admit that. 

finally, you continue in, following the signs to the ballroom for the dance. there’s already crowds of people there - your classmates spread across the dance floor, laughing and singing along and dancing wildly to the music that’s so loud jungkook can feel the bass reverberating in his entire body. you wince a little but it doesn’t stop the delight crossing your features even as you’re lifting your hands to cover your ears on reflex. you wander about the ballroom, jungkook following after you everywhere you go. 

“you can go hang out with your friends, you know,” you finally turn to him, though you’re basically shouting it over the music. jungkook considers pretending not to hear, but whether he likes it or not, hell, whether you like it or not, you know him better than that. 

“nice try,” he tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. “you think i don’t know you’re gonna tell jisoo i ditched you at this dance? i’m never gonna hear the end of it.” 

you scowl. he so good at fouling your mood. but he loves the way your brows draw in, how your jaw sets stubbornly, every time he gets on your nerves. it stokes a fire inside him that makes him smirk back at you. 

“i’m gonna tell her you didn’t ditch me at this dance, and instead spent the whole night annoying me,” you retort back. “then you really won’t hear the end of it. from me.” 

it’s supposed to be a threat, but jungkook feels sparks in his bloodstream instead, and he grins back. leans forward, matches your height. “is that a promise?” 

you let out an aggravated sound, one hand shoving his shoulder. he barely budges, but he does at least relent a little and straighten back up, hands sliding into his pockets. you’re glaring at him in a way that always makes his heart beat a little fast, something he largely attributes to a feeling of victory. he loves getting you to make that expression at him - nose wrinkled, lower lip jutting out in the smallest of pouts, shoulders raised like you want to hit him. 

it’s kind of adorable. in like, a small, angry creature kind of way. 

though if you heard him call you a creature, he’s pretty sure you’d start aiming for body parts he’d prefer remain intact. 

“come on,” he says instead. “it’s prom. i promised taehyung i’d make sure you’d have a good time.” 

“i don’t need your promises,” you mutter back, but jungkook hears it even above the music, mostly because you whip your face away from him to hide your expression, but he sees it anyway, and this one he doesn’t like. he’s all for the cute, annoyed huffing and puffing you do, but not the brief cut of hurt that crosses your features. he crossed the line somehow. he hates crossing the line - because he always does it without meaning to. 

“i didn’t - i didn’t mean it like that,” jungkook tries, but you’ve got too much pride to let jungkook apologize, instead lifting your chin high. 

“if you’re gonna stick to me, then you better dance, too.” 

jungkook swallows down what you don’t want to hear, even if he needs you to know it. maybe he can show you, instead. he’s not keeping you company just because of some silly promise he made taehyung, or because there’s no one else to stick by your side. he’s here because he wants to be. he wouldn’t have even come tonight if not for you. 

his eyes light like you’ve issued him a challenge - and jungkook has always been competitive. “better keep up, princess.” 

.

.

.

you collapse into a chair, kicking your heels off. jungkook settles into the seat beside you, albeit a little less out of breath. you loll your head towards him, tracing the outline of his neatly combed hair, his shoulders, the way his hands fumble a little with his tie, trying to loosen it. you’re both tired from jumping and dancing and screaming along to well-known songs remixed into one massive run-on song, but true to his word, jungkook did make sure you had a good time. you reach over, smacking his hands out of the way. “i can’t believe you still can’t figure out how to work a tie. shouldn’t it be easier to loosen than it is to put on?” 

“you’ve met my mother,” jungkook gripes back. “she ties things like she’s trying to make sure it can never be untied again. i think she might want me to live in this suit forever actually.” 

you roll your eyes, managing to hook a finger into the knot and wiggle it a little looser. jungkook inhales a deep breath, dramatic enough that you give into your giggles, and he has to hide his smile behind one hand. 

“what now?” he asks, after you’ve both sat in silence - or, as much silence as could be had in a room full of teenagers at a school dance. you hum, one foot nudging at the heel you discarded on the floor earlier. 

“well…” 

jungkook narrows his eyes. “of course you have something.” 

you shoot him a sly smile. “i did a little research before the dance.” 

jungkook eyes you warily. “who does research for prom? actually - i don’t think romcoms count as research, y/n.” 

you throw him a dirty look. “shut up. i meant about the hotel,” you make a vague gesture towards your surroundings. you bite your lip, and jungkook definitely doesn’t focus on the action. you glance back at him and he snaps his eyes back up to yours. 

“there’s supposedly a garden on the sixteenth floor,” you tell him. “it’s usually only for people who, y’know, rented a room or whatever, but it’s not like you need a key or anything to get in, so honestly, once you’re in the hotel, it’s pretty much fair game.” you shrug, but there’s a hopeful shine to your eyes. “the pictures looked really pretty.” 

jungkook tries not to sigh. of course. of course even at a school event, you found a perfect, romantic getaway to sneak off to. jungkook thinks you could probably find a romantic setting anywhere you go. or you’d just make one yourself. you could probably dress up a dumpster well enough to make it look like the start to a love story. 

jungkook waves a begrudging hand. “lead the way.” 

you jump up immediately. he heaves himself out of his chair to follow you, snagging the heels you’d decided to ditch from off the ground. he doesn’t know how you can bear to walk barefoot around the hotel, but he supposes all the carpet feels better than the three-inch heels you’d manages to dance in almost all night. you’ll probably want them later, once you reach the garden. 

the two of you sneak past other hotel-goers, and hotel staff, too, slipping into the elevator and thankfully making it up to the sixteenth floor without any stops. you wander down the halls until you spot the glass doors, glancing back at jungkook, giving him only a quick glimpse of the bright, unadulterated joy in your eyes before you’re pushing the doors open, wandering into the garden. 

your reaction at the hotel entrance is nothing compared to this. this, you’ve been waiting for since you stumbled upon it a couple days after the prom location was announced. you pause so abruptly that jungkook nearly bumps into you, stabilizing himself against one of the columns that border a walkway that aligns with the wall of the hotel. he’s about to nag you about it, but all that comes out is a quiet exhale, catching the wonder in your eyes as you survey what’s in front of you. 

he’ll admit, it is certainly pretty. it’s dark out, but there’s fairy lights strung about, illuminating the open space in a soft glow, just enough that you can see the pretty reds and purples and blues of the flowers, the deep greens of their leaves and the bushes surrounding them. there’s gravel, too, in shades of white and tan, bordering a pathway that cuts through the garden, to a small, white, octagonal pavilion. there’s nothing inside the pavilion but a bench that borders the entirety of it, but there’s vines that climb up the white beams, interspersed with flowers jungkook can’t even begin to name, but he’s sure you must know each and every one, and all the meanings that come attached to them, too. 

you begin to take a step out, but jungkook catches you by the arm. the immediate frown you give him makes him snicker, but he sets your heels down at the ground before you. “it’s pretty,” he allows. “but with flowers comes bugs. pretty sure you’re not gonna wanna step on one.” 

you make a face, but slip your heels back on, using jungkook to balance yourself. you figure he’s in a good enough mood, loose from the mocktails and the dancing, that he doesn’t say anything about the way your fingers grip onto his elbow. 

as soon as the shoes are on, though, you’re off. your fingers brush the petals, touch feather light, and you breathe in the sweet smell, closing your eyes briefly. jungkook trails after you, following you around the garden, walking the tiny pathways. you have a small smile on your face the whole time, like you’re falling a little in love with the flowers. you would, jungkook muses. he’s pretty sure you could fall in love with almost anything. 

when you’ve had your fill of the garden itself, you move towards the pavilion. you take a seat on the bench, resting an arm on the ledge as you peer out at all the flowers and greenery and little lights. jungkook joins you, but he doesn’t sit, just observes with you. it’s so quiet up here, a deep contrast to the dance happening sixteen floors down. 

his gaze falls to you. you look at peace here, a little sleepy, even, but happy. but for jungkook, that’s not enough. it’s prom night. you’re here, in a dress that sways with your every movement, with your makeup and hair done up nice, and jungkook has no idea what compels him to do it, but he reaches a hand out to you. 

you blink at his palm. stare blankly for a half-minute. “yes?” 

jungkook clicks his tongue against his teeth, grabbing your hand. “didn’t you want a slow dance?” 

he pulls you to your feet. you don’t have to know that his roughness has nothing to do with him pretending to begrudgingly grant you your wishes for prom. that maybe he just wants to hold your hand and feel you stumble into his chest. maybe he thinks you look beautiful in your dress, maybe he adores the way your cheeks turn a little pink with surprise. maybe he wants to feel your palm in his and know that he’s making you happy, because you always wanted to slow dance with someone. 

there’s no music here - there’s no one up here at all but the two of you - and that makes it all the more romantic. and he knows it. knows it because he knows you, knows you love this kind of thing, so maybe that’s why he does it. because jimin isn’t here, and taehyung isn’t here, and even yoongi isn’t here, but jungkook is. 

jungkook would rather die than say it out loud, but he loves this look on your face too. loves being the one - for once - to put it on you. not your angry, sullen pout, but the stars in your eyes, and how he can practically feel the way your heart races, even if he’s sure he’s not the reason - just the situation, the circumstance. after all, you love romance. you love the twinkling lights, the cool night air, even the clumsy steps the two of you take as you move in circles around the pavilion. 

this was what you wanted tonight, even if jungkook isn’t the person you pictured doing it with. 

he makes prom magical for you, in this moment. what you don’t know is that you make prom magical for him, too. 

breathless. 

his heart skips a beat in his chest, as he gazes down at you. you’re not looking at him - still too in love with the setting, the lattice on one side of the pavillion, the short post lanterns, the view over his shoulder from being sixteen floors up. but that’s okay. if you’re not looking at him, that means he can look at you. 

it’s circumstance, jungkook thinks. you’re as close to a date as he’s got, and he’s slow dancing with the prettiest girl in school, alone in a garden straight out of a fairy book. if his heart is doing double time, it has nothing to do with you. the same way you’re probably not even thinking about him. only that you’re dancing in a pavilion that could’ve come straight out of a pride and prejudice movie, and when jungkook spins you out and then back to him - that uninhibited, radiant smile isn’t for him. can’t possibly. it’s for that bucket list you keep, of all the things you want to do, of all the ways you want to love and be loved. just like this. 

.

.

.

jungkook doesn’t think about that night for years to follow. 

except, well, there’s a photo saved on his phone. a couple of them, actually. he never deleted them, and they’re from so far back that no one ever really scrolls that far in his camera roll, so it’s practically hidden. 

a little under seven years after the fact, you have your legs thrown over his lap. jungkook is letting you play with his phone, doesn’t really care what you do with it - and you frown. “jungkook.” 

he hums. he’s half asleep on the couch, sinking deep into the cushions. he’s pretty comfortable with you here, one hand on your calf, kind of unbelievably pleased with himself that the two of you have moved into a stage where you’re cuddled into his side, head on his shoulder, doing whatever it is you like to do with his phone (usually play mobile animal crossing on his account), while he falls asleep. but you nudge him again. “jungkook,” you insist. 

“hmm,” he blinks his eyes open. “what?” 

“is this me?” 

well, probably. jungkook doesn’t have a lot of photos of people on his phone who aren’t you, or your mutual friends. he doesn’t think twice about it when he peers at his phone, but when he sees the picture, he snatches his phone away from you on pure instinct, so fast that you startle, jerking back a little. “kook?” 

it’s not a secret. obviously not, considering he’s never purposefully hidden it on his phone. but he’s kept the pictures for years, refused to delete them, because, okay, yeah, maybe sometimes he likes to scroll back and see them. see you. see that photo of you wandering the gardens, where you’re not even paying the slightest attention to jungkook, but he can spot that lit up smile of yours even in the dim light. or the selfie that he took of the two of you, one that he sends to the group chat later as proof that he stuck by your side all night. jisoo gave him shit on the side for being obsessed with you - at the time, he denied it with fervor. “i’m not,” he’d insisted, but jisoo had clocked him before jungkook had even remotely come close to realizing that hoarding pictures of your prom night in secret meant she was definitively, without a doubt, right. 

you’re still staring at him, looking more confused than concerned. he relaxes his shoulders. he has to remember that you like him now. you’ll give him shit for a lot of things but, when it comes to him liking you back, you always get a little shy. like you can’t believe it, either. 

he lowers his phone so the two of you can see the screen again. there’s one more photo he kept. the two of you, side by side, with your dress not matching his tie, and not not matching his tie, and you looking breathlessly happy. for once, if not because of, then at least with, jungkook. 

he loves this photo. there’s very few photos of just the two of you back when you were teenagers, and even fewer still of you looking so unabashedly happy next to him. you stare, then you stare a little longer, then jungkook watches the flush creep up your neck, to the tips of your ears. just like that, his embarrassment disappears, and he grins, dropping his phone to turn your face towards him. 

“i had the best prom date,” he shrugs, relishing in the way you glower back at him. 

“you didn’t even ask me to go with you!” 

he’s grinning wider as he says, “you wouldn’t have agreed.” 

he loves the way this somehow agitates you more. “you don’t know that! maybe, if you promposed well enough, i might’ve considered it.” 

he snorts. “there is no promposal i could’ve possibly come up with that could outweigh how much you detested me in high school. please.” 

you cross your arms. there’s a glint in your eye that doesn’t match the frown on your face. “skill issue.” 

he gapes at you, then tosses his phone to the side altogether, letting it land somewhere on the floor as he flips the two of you until you’re squirming under him on the couch, laughing loudly as he pins you down so you can’t escape. “skill issue? i had half the student population wrapped around my finger-” 

“skill issue,” you retort. “i wasn’t one of them.” 

“you are now,” he asserts, and you waver, because he’s leaning closer, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of the way he cages you in. 

“am not,” you respond, but there’s no weight to your words, and jungkook can’t be bothered to care anymore, because you’re staring at his lips, and he can’t not give you what you want. 

you don’t say you want him to kiss you. 

you don’t not say it either, and you don’t need to. 

jungkook will always love you the way you want to be loved. 

the way you deserve to be. 

series masterlist ; in love with love (with you)

taglist ; @ahundredtimesover @nadzzzblog @apollukee @codeinebelle @yoongimentita7 @libra04 @welconme-notreally @yeow6n @babyboo22

[thef1diary]

Maxie! Just imagining Ghost!Max being extremely jealous if there is every any males in the house who aren't him, wanting to show you and them just who you belonged too. Being an absolute menace while he does so...

— hi nonnie! First dirty drabble day and we’re starting off strong with ghost!max!! He is definitely jealous and even if no one can see him, he still knows how to make a scene. 18+ content below.

There’s something wicked about Ghost!Max when he’s jealous. You’d noticed it before—the way the air in the house thickened whenever a man walked through the door or even if the delivery guy merely stood at the doorstep. It was subtle at first, just a flicker of lights or a door suddenly slamming shut—just enough to scare them away. But tonight, with your guy friends lounging in your living room, Max wasn’t hiding his displeasure.

It started as a chill brushing against your skin while Matt and Jake joked about the game they’d just watched. You forced yourself to focus, nodding along as if you weren’t hyper-aware of Max’s presence curling around you. You hoped he’d keep his distance, but the icy sensation crawling up your thighs told you otherwise.

As Matt leaned back into the couch, shooting you a grin, you felt it—phantom fingers slipping beneath your skirt, gliding along your panties. You froze, breath catching in your throat, and Max… he took his time. The fabric of your panties was no barrier to him; he could pass through it with ease, but no—he hooked a single, invisible finger beneath it, dragging the fabric to the side. You tensed, realizing why. In case one of your friends looks there.

Max knew what he was doing. You weren’t sure if you liked it or not yet… but you didn’t really have a choice in this matter anyways.

“Everything okay?” Matt’s voice broke through your haze, his gaze flicking to you, brows furrowed.

“Y-Yeah,” you stammered, your cheeks burning. Your legs pressed together, but Max was unrelenting, his fingers dipping between your folds, spreading you open as heat pooled low in your belly.

“You sure?” Jake asked, tilting his head. “You look flushed.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, praying they wouldn’t notice how stiffly you sat or the slight quiver in your voice.

But Max wasn’t content with just teasing you. His fingers thrust inside you, slow and deliberate, curling in a way that made your stomach tighten. You bit your lip hard, fighting the urge to moan. It was humiliating—and yet, the slick heat coating your thighs told a different story.

“You were saying?” you prompted, desperate to steer the attention back to them and away from the trembling of your body.

And just when you thought you’d survive his torment, Max decided to make his point.

The cold grip on your waist was your only warning before you were yanked forward, bent over the coffee table with startling force. Your friends froze, eyes wide as your chest hit the surface, and your skirt flipped up, exposing your bare ass.

“Whoa, what the fuck is going on?” Matt blurted, taking a step back.

“I-I don’t know!” you gasped, voice pitched high as Max spread your thighs further apart, holding your pussy open for them to see. Your walls clenched involuntarily as he finally pushed his cock into you—harder, deeper—stretching you around something they couldn’t see, but you could certainly feel.

“Is she…?” Jake trailed off, his voice tinged with shock as his gaze flicked between your expression and the empty space where Max was buried inside you.

You moaned, unable to stop the sound, your back arching as Max slammed into you. The table creaked beneath your weight, and your legs trembled with each thrust. You knew what they were seeing—your body jerking against the unseen force, your pussy gaping, wet, and slick as if gripping something invisible.

Matt swallowed hard, his face pale. “She’s… not alone, is she?”

Max’s energy crackled, his invisible grip tightening on your hips as he drove into you harder, as if daring them to intervene. Your friends didn’t move, though, rooted to the spot by a mix of fear and fascination.

Your moans grew louder, shameless, filling the room alongside the sound of your skin meeting the ghostly force pounding into you. You were helpless to stop it while Max took everything he wanted.

Max didn’t stop until you were trembling, your body spent and exposed, marked by him in every way that mattered. When he finally released you, the chill vanished, leaving you a panting, ruined mess as your friends stared, utterly baffled.

They left shortly after that, mumbling excuses and shooting you concerned glances. But you knew they wouldn’t be back. Not after what they’d seen—or couldn’t explain.

Max’s presence lingered as the door shut, a triumphant, possessive energy wrapping around you. You belonged to him, and he’d made damn sure everyone else knew it.

want more ghost!max? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days!

[sombreset]

Adding onto this-

More I think about it… as cool as the bone claws can be, I wish they weren’t like, indisputably canonized after being introduced.

I really like the idea that he didn’t have them initially— he was never meant to kill for the sake of it!!!! He was only ever meant to survive!!!!

Welcome to no bone claw Wolverine 2025 where Logan is just a guy who can’t quit even if he wants to

Anyway I’ll shut up I’ve got stuff to do but. Yeah

Speaking of weapon x, I really do like the idea that the claws were implanted, and that he didn’t naturally have them. Logan’s mutation was initially only defensive and survival tools, and the “weapon” part of him was artificially implanted by humans that were shaping him into a monster. The claws are still slightly up to interpretation in WX, I think the two takeaways is that they were surgically added and strengthened, or that Logan’s body formed them out of the excess Adamantium being poured into him as another tool to survive— the biggest difference between the two being whether or not the claws were intentionally created.

Personally, I like the idea that since this was the worst Logan had ever pushed, tortured, and caged in a way he couldn’t find a way to escape from, his mutation kicked in the survival instincts and created the claws as a last ditch effort for Logan to escape.

Once I get my WX book I’ll look into it more, but since I AM getting that now I dont wanna look into it too much yet.

(PS: the WX gallery edition has extras in the back— some of which being covers the artist did for later issues of Deadpool, drawing parallels to the art he did for WX. Neat! Tragic! Amazing!)

[layla4567]

A good company

Bob/Sentry x Fem!reader

Summary: You're part of the Thunderbolts and have powers like Wanda's (I don't specify the color). You're very useful in battle, however, your lack of practice causes you to faint due to lack of energy. The team decides that it is best for you to stay in the tower.

Warnings: sexual tensión, fluff, descriptions of action scenes (fights, shooting, etc.), beta read, Bucky and the reader are very close (like siblings relationship), sfw

Once again, a complicated mission had emerged out of nowhere. Terrorists were threatening to blow up an office building near the area.

"Why does it always have to be bomb threats? How unoriginal." you said, sighing in annoyance.

Everyone was already in the living room adjusting their suits and preparing their weapons. In your case, you only needed your hands as weapons, so you simply put on your fingerless gloves. Bob, who was sitting in an armchair, got up to watch them prepare.

"For the same reason they always choose New York as a point of attack" Yelena said and everyone laughed softly.

Bucky asked if everyone was ready as he spun his metal arm back like a windmill. You rolled your eyes in amusement, knowing he did that just for attention since his arm was always perfectly fitted and hard to get out of place, unless, well, you're a man with the strength of thousands of suns, like Bob or rather Sentry. Anyway.

Everyone nodded confidently. We were about to leave when Bob approached us hesitantly. He seemed to want to say something, but he bit his tongue and simply said

"Good luck guys, and take care"

Everyone gave the brunette a sweet smile. Yelena cautiously approached him.

"Are you sure you'll be okay here? Anyway, you know we'll be back as soon as possible"

"Yeah, if they don't kill us in the middle" Walker exclaimed and you poked him in the rib which made him let out a small grunt.

Bob smiled shyly. "Yes, I know, I'll be fine. I just don't feel confident about going yet."

The blonde woman nodded with a half-smile and, after placing a hand on his shoulder, left the elevator followed by the others. Only you stayed behind to see Bob off. You trotted toward him, your ponytail swishing, and, standing on your toes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, almost knocking him off his feet.

Whenever you went out on a mission, you gave him a big bear hug in case you never saw him again. Being a superhero was dangerous, and you never knew what would happen to you. But you also wanted to comfort him and assure him that you would try to make it through safely and that you cared about him. Bob smiled warmly and hugged you back, returning the warmth of the hug.

"I promise you we'll be back soon and we'll be fine" Your voice sounded a little muffled as your face was close to the crook of his neck.

"I know you will"

"C'mon witch, it's time to go!" Bucky shouted, naming you with that affectionate nickname he gave you.

You quickly pulled away, to Bob's disappointment as he tried to hold you back a few seconds longer. You ran to the elevator, babbling apologies. Before the doors closed, you waved to Bob one last time, and he raised his hand with a smile.

Bob approached the large window sighing as minutes later he watched them leave in the ship through the skies, hoping they wouldn't take too long.

Once on the plane, everyone fastened their seatbelts. Yelena was driving, and Alexei was next to her. The others were in the back, and you were next to Bucky. You were admiring the scenery from the window when his voice brought you out of your trance.

"Do you think you'll be okay down there? That you'll be able to... handle it?"

You looked at him thoughtfully, knowing what he meant. On previous missions, you'd returned to the tower exhausted, with muscle aches and even on the verge of unconsciousness. Your magic was so powerful that sometimes you thought it couldn't fit inside your body, like a very small jar trying to fill it and not being able to.

"Yeah, I think so.." you answered not very sure

Bucky at your side frowned slightly. "We already told you not to overdo it, we can defend ourselves well."

"I know, I know! stop lecturing me"

Sometimes your friend seemed more like your father or your brother trying to lecture you on morals. He just sighed, and looked straight ahead. However, his words had become etched in your head and were hard to shake. You knew he was right, and you also knew that was the reason Bob looked so worried every time the group left, and so relieved when they returned almost intact.

You didn't have time to think about anything else because Alexei informed them they had arrived. While Yelena maneuvered and parked the ship, the others were already unbuckling their seatbelts to get out. The landscape was terrifying; there was smoke and dust that made you cough, people were running scared for cover, and men with guns were pointing at us to shoot. No matter how much you'd fought like this before, you never got used to the sight of your city in chaos.

"Okay, here's the plan: Alexei and John on the right, Y/n and Ava on the left, and you, Bucky, with me in front. Is that clear?"

"Clear as water!" exclaimed Red Guardian happily.

You were hesitant. "Wouldn't you rather I cover you?" You said to Yelena and Bucky.

"And who covers for me?" Ava said offended, looking at you.

Yelena closed her eyes, gathering patience. "Just stick to the plan, okay?" Then she looked at you softly. "We'll be fine. Just cover Ghost, alright?"

You nodded, unable to argue anything, just obey.

"WE ARE THE THUNDERBOLTS!" yell Alexei

"Don't use that name" Bucky made a face of disgust

"Yeah, it's awful" said Walker

The Russian girl rolled her eyes and separated from the group, pulling out her pistol and firing, followed by Bucky. The others went their separate ways, and you stuck close to Ava.

Two soldiers were shooting in your direction, so you quickly created a shield with magic, protecting you and Ava while she became intangible and passed through the men to attack them from behind. With quick movements of your fingers, you threw the soldiers away while orbs of colored light from your powers crossed the sky. You tried to be fast, but there were too many bullets and your arms were starting to tire. Everyone seemed to have everything under control when suddenly two cars exploded and flew towards Yelena and Bucky. He stood in front of the blonde and with his metal arm, stopped the car, which flew away, but he hadn't realized that another one was also heading towards them, so fast that Bucky couldn't stop it. Alarmed, you realized this; Ghost became visible at your side.

"Go, I can handle these" she said confidently

You nodded, thanking her with a look, and quickly ran in front of them. You raised your hands and stopped the car in its tracks, and with a gasp, you set it down on the ground. The overuse of your powers was already starting to take its toll on you; you could feel it; fatigue seemed to be overcoming you. You turned around with a tired smile. They, startled, just nodded. John, Ava, and Alexei had joined you.

"Are you okay, is everyone alright?" Yelena asked you and then looked at everyone

With your hands on your hips, you were about to answer yes when a second, even louder explosion sounded behind you. Everyone turned around in fear, watching as the tower of a building began to fall away, billowing out smoke as black as night. Debris fell, smashing cars and light poles.

"Shit..." Yelena sighed worry

"What the fuck John, didn't you tell us the bomb was inside the building?!" Ava yelled angrily.

"Oh I'm so sorry for being busy STOPPING SEVEN SOLDIERS"

Yelena's father raised his hands "HEY HEY ENOUGH, WE HAVE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO FIGHT ABOUT NOW!"

"We have to get the people out. Now." The blonde said

Along with Bucky and the others, they began guiding people to safety. They had to move quickly before the building collapsed completely. They were less than halfway down when a noise made them look up. The top of the terrace had split in half and was falling at high speed along with another part of the tower. The group hurried people out and ran for cover, except for you.

"WAIT DON'T DO IT!" Bucky yelled

Too late. You had already positioned yourself beneath the large piece of rubble that was falling on you, and with the last of your strength, you raised your arms and, with your magic, stopped it before it fell. But you didn't count on the fact that it was much heavier than you could bear, and you began to pant as your knees buckled and your back arched. The few people left were already leaving. Your biceps began to tremble, and your face wrinkled with exertion. When you sensed there was no one left to get out, that's when your powers began to slowly fade from your fingers, and the piece of building fell near you, leaving a crater in the pavement but without hurting you or anyone else.

You lowered your arms as if they were made of rags and you wobbled slightly, trying to stand awkwardly. The group ran up to you, worried, asking if you were okay. You were short of breath and your body felt very fatigued. Before you could answer, your vision blurred and you fainted in Bucky's arms.

When they arrived at the tower, Bob was already standing by the window waiting for them. When he heard the elevator doors open, he smiled in relief, but his smile disappeared the moment he saw you unconscious in Bucky's arms.

"Wh- what happened?" he said a little scared

No one answered; they were too busy focusing all their attention on you. Bucky had placed you on a very large sofa that almost felt like a bed. Yelena realized that panic was threatening to take hold of Bob, so she put both hands on his shoulders.

"She's ok, she will be ok. She just drained her energy again because her powers"

He nodded in understanding, but a worried frown crossed his face as he looked at you. Bob stayed by your side as long as necessary. Several hours passed until you finally woke up. When you slowly opened your eyes, you saw the honeyed brown of his. He looked at you, still a little worried, wanting to make sure you were better.

"Bob?"

He held your hand gently and you smiled softly. Then, yawning, you stretched and slowly straightened up.

"Careful" he said

Yelena and Bucky entered the living room and when they saw you awake, a gesture of relief enveloped them.

"You're awake" Bucky said

"How long did I sleep?"

"About 6 hours"

Six hours, damn it. You'd never been unconscious for so long. You slowly sat up on the couch to avoid dizziness and headaches.

"Are you better now? You still remember everything?" Bob asked a bit worried

You smiled sweetly. "Yeah, I was trying to stop a building from falling down, and then poof! I fainted. Nothing new." You said ironically.

"Bob stayed by your side all this time, he even forgot to eat" Yelena said casually.

You looked at the brown-haired man, asking if it was true, and he said he wanted to make sure you weren't alone when you woke up. His words caused a divine warmth in your chest as you smiled widely.

. . . . . .

Days after that mission, they were called back for another emergency. You were already preparing to leave when Bucky stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. Your smile disappeared, and confusion appeared in your frown.

"Sorry y/n, not today"

"Not today what?"

"You can't come with us," Walker said.

You looked at everyone, surprised and a little hurt. Their serious faces showed a hint of concern for you, and you hated it. You hated that they gave you that look of pity as if you were a weak, scared rabbit unable to defend yourself.

"Excuse me? I think I heard wrong. Do you want me to stay here?"

"That's exactly what you heard and what you'll do, at least for today." Yelena took a step towards you.

Bob, who had been listening silently, approached you, fearing an argument. You felt your blood boiling with anger inside you.

"So you're going to get rid of me so easily? You're going to abandon me like that? And everyone's okay with it?" you said annoyed.

"We all think it's the best for you," said John.

"Oh cut the shit, Walker!"

He rolled his eyes, "I give up, you guys talk."

Yelena stood in front of you. "Y/N, listen, we care about your health and we care about you, and we can't risk what happened the other day happening again. You're putting yourself at risk, and at the same time, you're putting us at risk. That's why it's best you stay with Bob today."

Her tone was firm but persuasive. You knew she was right. You didn't want to hold the team back or inflict any harm on yourself. But you felt betrayed by her not warning you sooner. You could have at least come to an agreement.

"But-!" you tried to reply

"Please, Y/N, don't make it harder. You'll stay here, and that's the end of the discussion" she said authoritatively

Bob slowly approached and from behind placed a hand on your shoulder, you looked at him "I think they're right, we just want to take care of you"

You smiled sadly at him and then looked at the others "and what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"You can train in the room upstairs, you need to improve your endurance and strength so that this doesn't happen to you again." Bucky suggested

Everyone agreed and you had no choice but to nod reluctantly. When everyone left and it was just you and Bob, you sighed in annoyance, not because you were alone with Bob but because they had abandoned you even if it was for your own good.

You went to your room to change your clothes. A tank top and gym shorts would suffice. You went up to the training room, which was filled with punching bags and other gym equipment. You began to bandage your hands to avoid hurting yourself while muttering insults. You were still angry, and it showed in your fighting style. You let your anger guide your legs as you kicked the bag hard, snorting like a bull.

Your fists quickly hitted up the bag. The adrenaline was so high that you barely felt any pain in your knuckles. After a while, where you were already sweating slightly, you decided to rest. Suddenly, the helplessness of not being able to help and feeling limited and incapable by your powers filled your chest with guilt and poisonous anger, and you hit the bag again, this time with a grunt. At that moment, Bob was coming up the stairs and had frozen in the doorway, staring at you, not daring to enter. But you saw him.

"Uh so sorry, I just came to see if you needed anything"

He couldn't help but let his eyes flick down your bare thighs and back up to your face. You smiled amusedly and decided that maybe he could help you. You needed some hand-to-hand combat practice.

"Actually, now that you mention it, yes. Would you like to practice wrestling with me?"

He swallowed nervously. "Are you sure? Don't you want me to help you with anything else?"

"Very sure, come on." You approached and took his hands to bring him to the center of the room. He insisted, saying he didn't think it was a good idea since he didn't want to hurt you because sometimes he couldn't control his strength. You assured him that he could never hurt you.

"Don't worry, we'll start with something easy, and you don't need to change clothes, the ones you're wearing will be enough." You looked him up and down. He was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and gray jogging bottoms. Unconsciously, under your gaze, Bob felt vulnerable and blushed.

You both got into a fighting stance, one foot in front of the other, facing each other. You threw a punch in the air in front of his face, and he dodged it by ducking and going under your arm. He mimicked your punch, and you dodged his too. At first, the movements were slow, like a dance, but as you got used to it, the rhythm increased, and kicks were added.

You kicked at the side of his abdomen and he blocked it with his hands. Bob tried to throw a kick towards your face and you ducked to dodge it. Then you turned so that your back collided with his chest, so close you could feel his heart beating rapidly and you didn't know if it was from the exercise or from you. You took a few seconds to feel his body heat and his breath near your ear that sent delicious shivers down your spine. Until now he had only followed what you ordered him, imitating your movements like a mirror but with each step he gained more confidence in himself and when you landed a soft elbow in his abdomen, he put his arms on your chest and neck, without hurting you of course.

"Is this okay?" He asked

"Perfect" you smiled

You placed your hands on the sturdy forearm that was on your neck and felt his prominent veins. The other arm pressed chastely against your chest while your butt pressed against his hips, preventing you from moving. Not that it bothered you; you could stay like that for hours, and something told you that he preferred it that way too.

"Now I want you to try to take me down."

He blinked in confusion. "Wait, really? You sure?"

"Just do it, Bob"

He liked the way his name sounded from your mouth and tried to suppress a smile. Then, doing what you asked, he tried to pull you back gently, but you placed one foot back right between his legs and, twisting your torso, wrapped your arms around his and, with all your strength, you knocked him back, falling on top of him. Bob let out a grunt combined with a moan.

You put your hands on his chest and looked at him worriedly, maybe you were the one who had overdone it with force this time "I'm so sorry, are you okay?" you asked while you placed a lock of hair behind your ears.

He closed his eyes at the blow, his slightly pinched face looking cute to you. Strands of sweaty hair swirled around his forehead and you brushed them away. "Yeah, don't worry. You did great," he grinned.

Now he looked at you, your face was very close to his so he stopped to admire your curled eyelashes, your bright eyes and your rosy lips. Both of you were breathing heavily and your hot breaths mingled with each other. You noticed a heat in his chest where your hands were and your skin itself was slightly warming up where he held his hands on your waist, stabilizing you in place.

"Uhm, do you think it will take a while for the guys to arrive?" you asked.

Bob was about to answer that he hoped they don't, just for stay like this longer when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Before anyone could do anything, the entire group appeared at the entrance to the room like apparitions.

"What the hell is going on here?" Bucky asked, while Alexei laughed behind him.

You quickly broke away from Bob and in your haste you almost stepped on his crotch with your knee. When you both stood up blushing and panting silly excuses Yelena said

"We left you here with Bob to train, not to make out. Next time Ava stays with you." She left, rolling her eyes in disgust.

[keimunnn]

ANGRY KORRA SMUT IDEAAAAAAA

how about when korra was learning metal bending right and she flexes and goes metal bending champion the reader gets like MADDDD flustered bc DAMN HER MUSCLES and Korra teases her about it but then later fucks the reader while still teasing her, if that makes sense😭😭….like she’s overpowering her and using her strong ass muscles on the reader.

oh my god this took me like a week(?), been kind of busy 😭 sorry about that... but anyway of course cutie!

muscles

KORRA + F!READER

warnings: nsfw (18+) — you want korra's muscles, korra tops ofc, mentioning of choking (muscles), rubbing on clit, face sitting, i honestly have no idea how to tag but yeah, lowercase intended

•

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•

"metal bending champion!"

the whole time korra was sparring with one of the beifong twins, you were observing her the whole time. and oh boy, was she a fast learner. the way she was even called the 'first metal bending avatar' was even more exciting—it had you feel the need to celebrate for her. she was absolutely amazing in every way. that's probably why you fell for her in the first place.

although, the way she flexed her arms in the air had you pausing in your train of thoughts. your eyes scanned the way she flexed her arms, having you accidentally stare at those muscles in the entirety of her training. it wasn't exactly new to you whenever she does it, but it totally didn't mean the filth running through your head didn't kick you hard in the gut whenever she does it. her muscles were always a bonus when you got attracted to her. that had you mad mad. how does someone like her even exist, yet, they haven't had their muscles around your neck?

hell, you would even let her have you in a headlock for all you care.

your mind went wild, seeing her proud smirk whenever she wins against the beifong twin was even hotter. it wasn't even containable at this point. you were itching to just stop her and perhaps feel her up, honestly. all these thoughts didn't let you notice the way korra had caught on onto your long stare. she only raised a brow at you, wondering why you were staring in silence with a serious look in your face as if you were planning something to eliminate her—which was actually kind of funny to think about on her part.

with the way you kept your eyes on her, you didn't even realize she was walking towards you after telling the beifong twin that they both should take a break for a bit. you were sitting on concrete, your legs crossed over eachother with a concentrated look in your eyes as you still continued with your stare, your chin resting on your interlocked hands.

"you okay?" sitting down next to you, korra plopped down in the same position beside you, criss-crossing her legs as well and snaked an arm around your shoulder. you snapped out of your thoughts once you got pulled in by her to her side, feeling her muscles against your neck. and as if it wasn't obvious enough, your ears might've puffed out smoke already from how red you were. out of nowhere, you blurted out from the heat;

"choke me with those muscles."

"...what?"

•

the sounds of soft pants and shuffling echoed around the room suyin had let you both shared in their residence. her mouth continued to nibble and suck on your breast, her free hand groping the other one. with a loud pop she released the bud in her mouth, now moving to kiss down your stomach and around your navel, leaving more lovebites while she went down.

her hands reached the waistband of your shorts, beginning to slowly tug at it. "lift your hips." she told you, looking up at you. once you complied to her demand, she began to work on peeling your shorts off, now discarding them onto the floor along with the rest of her clothes.

korra began to kiss your inner thighs, slowly moving towards the center, still looking up at you the entire time to gauge your reactions.

"h-haah..." your sounds let out a whine, feeling your heart quicken its pace as you watched the whole scene unfold, her finger teasingly wrapped around the waistband of the last remaining fabric to tug it off.

the way korra was undeniably attractive between your legs was dangerous... along with the way her muscles glistened with her sweat. it had a hint of seduction, yet, also laced with sweetness. you flushed at the thought, watching her slide the fabric down and throw it to the edge of the bed.

she thought you looked beautiful like this, underneath her and watching her every move, looking so flustered and needy. she continued to leave little kisses on your inner thighs, her hands gently holding them open to give her more access.

"you don't have to be so shy, pretty." she said, giving one of your inner thighs a playful bite, just enough to leave a small mark there.

"keep your eyes on me, alright?"

her head moved closer between your legs now, her breath hitting your core as she gazed up at you with a sly smirk. "i just want to see how your face looks when i do this."

with that she lowered her head, her lips now gently kissing your clit with soft kisses, testing your reactions with a swirl of her tongue against the sensitive nub. a low whimper escaped your lips, your hands down to her hair and gently tugged it back from her forehead, keeping a close watch at what she was about to do.

you let out a sharp exhale, softly tugging along her hair. "please..."

the avatar loved the feeling of your hands in her hair, gently pulling and grasping at her dark locks, and how you continued to watch her. when you tugged at her hair again and let out that little whimper of yours, she felt a shiver run down her spine, unable to hold back any longer.

her lips continued to kiss and press against your center as her tongue slowly came out to taste your slicked up core—she groaned loudly at your taste, dipping in another lick to get that taste up her tongue once more. she was addicted, and that was obvious. korra was never subtle whenever she wanted something from you, and this was one of them.

"oh, korra...!" her name coming out of your mouth was like music to her ears, she wanted to hear you say it again and again.

humming in response, korra's tongue was now moving against your core with more eagerness, wanting to draw out more of those noises from you. her hands continued to hold your thighs open, as her head remained buried in between as she took advantage of her strength to push you wide open for her.

she felt your hips moving against her and your fingers pulling tighter on her hair, she knew you were getting more needy and desperate. she continued to lick and suck and tease your gummy hole with her tongue, wanting more of those beautiful sounds to come from you. she could tell you were getting close, from the way you tugged on her hair and how you begged for her to not stop.

with her strength, she came across the thought of a different position, getting you to your hips over her face now with your hands grasping onto the headboards with a surprised gasp of your own. it shouldn't even be a shock that she could just get you into any position without a hassle, but it still had you surprised in the end.

spirits, you wanted her to just throw you around and have you in a headlock soon.

you let out a moan once she pulled your hips down to her lips, immediately continuing her ministrations with the different position now, grinding yourself against her face in a riding motion. the tip of her nose rubbed deliciously against your clit with her tongue deep inside your pussy. it was heaven, you thought.

that was when korra's hands gripped onto the skin of your hips once more, having you rock against her with an even more quickened pace and deeper penetration from her pink muscle. your breasts bounced at the rhythm, your moans getting louder every time. it was getting intense and even closer to release—so stimulating.

"come on, come on— want you to cum all over my face. yeah, that's it." korra murmured against your lower lips, burying her head against your core with long last suck before you reached your high at last. you didn't even notice you put your weight on her, back arching in euphoria with your hips twitching at the final stimulation. you whispered out curses and 'thank you's, pulling away from korra with a worried glance down at her, getting off of her.

"shit— was i too heavy?" you asked, concerned when you saw her breathing heavily with all your essence over her mouth and chin, a small smirk on her face once she looked back at you.

"you were perfect. i could do that all week..."

"... you still haven't choked me though..."

"i'll do it with a strap next time, don't worry."

"that's—... WAIT WHAT."

•

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•

(and im sorry i didn't know how to make her angry here 😭)

[foodiegoogie]

no one else, only you

lily evans x fem!reader | 2.75k

summary: you're a hundred percent gay for your best friend, lily evans. but you're also living in the 1980's—in conservative london, england, no less. where could pride fit in that? cw/tags: angst w/ fluff undertones, coming out scene, internalized homophobia, freddie mercury reference (may he rip 🤍) if i missed anything else, plz let me know! tnx <3 note: this one's for all my lesbian/gaylicious/bisexy/closeted girlies out there <3 you are so loved and seen by people like me. happy pride month! 🏳️‍🌈

based off of annabelle by annika bennett ₊˚⊹♡

It’s a wonder, isn’t it? How one person could share their life with another person for as long as they both live—or, at least, ‘til death do they part, anyway.

You’d argue that it wouldn’t be a wonder to think about that, no. You’d tell people with that mindset to get their heads out of the clouds, and face the facts: ‘til death do you part, so what’s the point? In a society with so many rules, standards, and reputations to uphold, how does one even come to life-altering decisions such as marriage? It feels… impossible.

Impossible, well—for you, it would seem. For others, like most of your friends, it’s annoyingly possible. James Potter is a rake, if the line of girls appearing in his flat on a nightly basis is to tell that. Sirius Black could get away with being straight with his looks, but you know him better than that. Remus Lupin is… private, but not secretive when it comes to your friend group. And Peter Pettigrew… Well, bless his soul, the boy tries his best. 

Lily Evans, though? You couldn’t quite pinpoint what her deal is; and that’s saying a lot, considering how close the two of you are. 

So, what exactly is her deal… with you?

Especially now, while you and Lily are sharing a bottle of wine in the warm ambience of her kitchen. You came over with this elaborate plan of how you could finally get over yourself and confess your feelings. But Lily—bless her heart—was so happy to see you, that things had started to take a little detour from your initial plan of action.

“—then I said, ‘No, Marls, don’t do it!’” Lily chuckles as she combs her fingers through her hair, ridding it of tangled knots. 

“But then she—” The redhead chuckles again, interrupting herself before continuing, “she actually—”

“Does it?” You finish for her with a smile, sensing familiar butterflies in your stomach whenever you’re looking at Lily.

“Yeah!” She giggles, it’s music to your ears, and nearly spills her wine as she wobbles on her feet.

You think it’s a grand opportunity, considering how she’s only had at least half of the wine in her glass. Still sober enough to be serious for an important conversation, and still tipsy enough to forget said conversation the day after.

“Anyway,” Lily starts again, sobering herself up despite the flush in her cheeks, “moving forward—”

“Hey, Lils—” 

You lunge as she nearly trips over herself while literally moving forward, catching her by the arms. You give her a squeeze to help ground herself, trying not to think about the warmth between your skinship.

As soon as Lily registers your hands gripping her steady, she frowns at them. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked.

How hypocritical of you, Evans, you thought to yourself.

“Oh, I’m quite dandy right now, actually. It’s you that’s not okay,” You tell her with gentle sarcasm in your voice. With an arm around her shoulders and a hand in the crook of her elbow, you guide her towards the living room.

Eventually, you make it to the worn brown couch that looks cozier than ever in the warm lighting of the lamp, standing in the corner. You make sure Lily makes a soft landing on the cushions, giving her a throw pillow when she barely reaches for one, before you sit right down beside her.

It’s a couch that fits four people, at most. But you’d think two people were sitting on either side of the couch while you and Lily sat tight and cozy in the middle. You can’t stop thinking about the warmth she’s radiating since you got here. 

You don’t realize you’re watching Lily with a weighted, concerned gaze until she’s smiling at you again, all amused and whimsical-looking.

“You’ve got that look on your face again.”

You sigh in fond exasperation, joining her in her lax position as you lean back on the couch.

“What look, Lils?”

She frowns and forms that adorable knot between her brows. “You know—that look!”

“I can’t really know that look if I can’t see myself doing it now, can I?”

“Oh… you’re right. Sorry.” 

She sounds truly crestfallen when the word slips out of her mouth, and you feel achy about it. Heartache-y. Perhaps you should get a move on with ‘the plan.’

“S’alright, Lils. No biggie.”

But Lily’s still tipsy. You can tell that by how slowly she’s blinking, how her lips are pouted, and how she’s staring off into the distance like there’s something to be found there.

Neither of you talk after a while. The silence, though, isn’t uncomfortable. It’s more than that. It feels charged. Heavy. Pregnant. 

The silence feels like it’s… waiting for itself to be broken—and Lily beats you to it.

“I really am glad you’re here, you know,” She opens up, voice a bit deeper and words a lot clearer than before. Still staring off into the distance but, nonetheless, you know she’s really starting to sober up now.

“Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she continues.

There’s really no other way to go about it—that one’s totally your fault. What with an existential crisis about yourself, your country, your actual and romantic feelings for Lily, and so on—you had to step away from it all, if not completely, then at least for a while. 

That had completely slipped out of your mind for a long, long while.

You chuckle slightly, albeit a little sheepish. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in a while either.”

Then, silence. A few seconds pass because you let them, and it feels like you should speak next. So, you start with a deep breath, “I—”

“—missed you.”

It’s barely heard, but you can’t miss it. Not when Lily’s right beside you when she says it. Her breath brushes your ear, and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your breath hitches because it was exactly what you were going to say.

“I missed you,” Lily repeats herself, almost like her prior statement was just a slip of the tongue. Something that was just pure instinct, and not fully thought through. “Still miss you, actually.”

She sighs, forlorn, then shifts on her spot to face you completely like she’s about to drop something big and important. 

But you take the risk before you lose the chance to say what you’ve been meaning to say since you came over.

“I have to tell you something,” You blurt out as Lily takes a sharp breath. She blinks, then nods for you to continue. With a deep breath, you do. “I…”

How do you start coming out to your best friend?

How do you say ‘I miss you’ in a non-homosexual way to the girl you’re totally homosexual for? Just to prepare Lily for the eventual truth bomb, of course. 

You think Lily catches the gulp you take and the fidgeting you do with your fingers, because she prompts, “You what, Y/N?” in that soft, sweet voice of hers.

You don’t even know why you’re so scared. This is the Lily Evans—kind-hearted to a fault, and the personified antonym of judgmental. She’s fearless for herself, and for her friends. Most of all, you know that she loves you. That goes without saying, yes. But you’re not sure it’s in the way that your heart has always wanted since the day you met her.

“I—” You exhale, trying to get over your ridiculous thoughts. “I missed you, too.”

Lily sighs like it’s a relief that you told her that. “Was that so hard to tell me? Here I was, expecting something else to come out of your mouth.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what, then?”

“Dunno. Doesn’t have to be specific, really. Maybe something that goes like ‘I just found out that my great gran disowned me?’”

A chuckle bubbles up unexpectedly from your throat, and Lily joins you in your amusement. The tense air disperses for a while as you share the laughter, but then you let out a small, happy sigh.

“Seriously, though. I do need to tell you something. Not just—” You shake your head, “not just ‘I miss you.’”

“Okay, er—” Lily straightens her posture, eyebrows furrowing in concern, “—go ahead. Tell me.”

“Right, so…” You take another deep breath because this is the moment: the make-or-break moment of your friendship with Lily. “...you know how there’s been rumours about Freddie Mercury going around? About his… health and—sexuality…?”

“Yeah, heard about it on the news,” The redhead replied. “What about them?”

“Well… you see…” You turn your head down, picking at your fingernails. “I’m kind of going through the same thing?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lily coos, arms instantly coming round you, squeezing you tight. You return her embrace with equal, grateful measure. It was a hug you probably needed. “I’m sorry you’re going through that. I had no idea.”

You think the conversation’s getting off on a good note, so far. So, you continue, chuckling sheepishly. “Yeah, well. It’s not easy to say or go through, not exactly.

“But… that’s not all that there is, really.”

“Oh? Then what else is there to say?”

“I don’t have rumors going ‘round about me. Not like Freddie Mercury,” A weak attempt at lightening up the situation, but you coax a small smile out of Lily. “But the sexuality bit… that one’s true.”

There’s silence after that. You’re waiting and watching for Lily’s reaction. Anything that would signal you to back out of this conversation altogether or continue. But she’s just as serious as she was earlier when the topic about Freddie Mercury opened in the first place. You take it as a sign to go on.

Besides, you’ve come here with a clear objective, right? The worst that could happen was… your potential rejection, and the possibility that Lily might find you repulsive after and kick you out of her flat.

You decide to take that risk with the thought that we, human beings, only live once. If you couldn’t confess to Lily now, then when will you ever?

“The truth is, Lils, I’m saying all this because…” You give out a small huff of courage. “I like girls.”

Expecting silence to take over again, you get brave to glance at Lily, who’s now smiling at you with so much pride, it feels just slightly overwhelming.

“Y/N,” She starts, taking your hands in both of hers, thumbs sweeping over your knuckles. “I’m really glad you decided to tell me this, I—”

“I like you, too.”

Lily freezes upon hearing you say that, so you’re frozen, too. Perhaps it was because of the way she took your hands and held it in hers, so warm and welcoming. Not an ounce of roughness despite the rough texture of her hard-working hands. Not a hint of carelessness despite the gentle manner she holds your hands with.

“I meant to say—” You sigh, frustrated with yourself for being so unclear. “I like girls, and I like you, Lils. As… as more than just my best friend. So much more than that.”

It comes as a surprise to you that she’s still holding your hands despite the truth bomb you’d just dropped on her all of a sudden. But, if anything, you’re grateful that she hasn’t found you so repulsive to flinch away from you. Well, not yet at least.

“Is that…” Lily finally speaks, sounding slightly out of breath. You’re hoping it’s not because she’s about to cry and disown you as her friend. “Is that true?”

“Yeah, it is,” You answer with a reluctant smile, tears beginning to form in your eyes. Your vision becomes blurry, so you rush to say, “I know that might throw you off, Lils, but it’s been true for so long that I—”

Lily thumbs away the tear slipping down your cheek—the tear you didn’t even realize was there in the first place. That action alone prompts a sob out of you. Whether that was a sob of relief, forgiveness for yourself, or fear, however—you couldn’t decide.

“It’s okay,” She whispers to you, tucking a hair strand behind your ear. Her hand lingers near your cheek. “Just breathe, yeah? Breathe, darling.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting more tears rain down on your face. Lily frees her hands to press them against your cheeks, grounding you with pressure alone. She guides you through one, two, three deep breaths, until the last exhale finally eases your nerves and rapid heartbeat. 

“M’sorry, sorry…” You sniffle, shaking your head as your hands rise to pry Lily’s off of your face, already more than grateful for her kindness, but she just presses them closer (if that was even possible).

“No, don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong, alright?” There’s more hair falling around your face, so she tucks the strands behind both your ears. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

“No, you don’t understand,” You rush to say, trying to sober up as you blink rapidly. “I’m— I’m not normal—”

“And who is, these days, anyway?” Lily stresses, “Listen to me, alright? Listen to me very carefully, because I know how stubborn you are, especially when you’re trying to get the last word in. Okay?”

“Okay,” You murmur weakly.

“The world isn’t kind to anyone, we both know that,” Her hands leave your face—your flushed cheeks contrasting against the sudden cold. But then she holds your hands tightly as she says, “But I am, and we both know that, don’t we?”

You nod your head in reply.

Lily nods back, satisfied with your response. “So, all I can tell you now is thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this, and for being honest with me. I accept—”

You’re crying again before she gets to go through with her sentence, but it doesn’t faze Lily in the slightest. In fact, she tilts your head back up with a finger, and wipes away your tears. When your sobs get quiet and shoulders stop shaking, she continues.

“I accept who you are—that never really changed since high school, Y/N. Even when I wasn’t aware of this about you. Really, I— it’s more than that, actually. I feel…” Horrified? Disgusted? Fascinated like I’m some alien or species of some kind—

“...I feel the same way about you.”

You must be so out of it already that you might have misheard Lily telling you that she feels the same way about you. Internally, you curse your mind for playing cruel tricks on your senses.

But you still feel the warmth of her hands pressed to your cheeks, the fabric of her dress brushing against your knees, the weight of this entire moment— it’s all still so present, and so vivid, they couldn’t possibly be just a figment of your imagination.

“You do?” You ask her.

Lily nods, smiling in that bedazzling way she always does. Her eyes are all watery now, too. “I do, yeah. I really, really do.”

A wet chuckle slips past your lips, and this time around, you initiate the skinship— leaning forth to press your forehead against hers, closing your eyes. 

“That’s a relief,” You whisper with a smile. “There was no one else, Lils. Just you. Only you.”

You hear Lily sigh, then, her breath brushing against your lips. The tips of your noses bump into each other. It all feels like the right moment to get rid of the space between you and finally learn how it feels like to kiss a girl— your dream girl since high school.

But neither of you closes the space nor asks for it to happen. You just sit there— enjoying each other’s company, and the relief that you both don’t feel the need to hide behind ‘just friends’ anymore.

[gotta-winwin]

the neighbour | c.vn

⭐ starring: vernon chwe 💌 genre: fluff, angst | wc: 1.5k 💬 preview: you remember him vaguely, in the midst of dreams and faint shadow of a friend. vernon swore he would marry you once you were old enough. it’s been a lifetime since then, and you still live next door to each other– as strangers instead of the lovers you could’ve been. 

cw/tw: neighbour!vernon x reader, friends to almost lovers to strangers, missed opportunity, childish innocence, the first stumblings of love, a quiet goodbye no one can understand, fireworks

🪽 fic rating: pg  ☁️ masterlist & a/n: this event collection is filled with stories inspired by my own personal experiences with people. this one is : that one kid who lived next to me and swore he’d marry me once we were older than just 7. the musings of innocent, silly love without a care in the world. thank you to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for betaing!

now playing: 18 by one direction, i look in people’s windows by taylor swift

this is an addition to remember them…?, a celebration event for svt’s 10th anniversary. 

You watch Vernon grow up through a window: a doorway into Narnia. 

It starts with Spiderman stickers on the walls and toy trucks littering the floor. 

A young boy waves at you from his spot on the windowsill, a mop of curly brown hair covering his dark eyebrows. 

“What’s your name?” His voice is loud and full of energy. 

For a second you’re stunned. Your neighbourhood had always been filled with old folks who had grown tired of living– and now, there was a boy, waving at you like you were the moon. 

“I’m Y/N!” You yell back, and your voice is hoarse from prolonged silence. 

“I’m Vernon!” His smile is bright enough to be seen from where you stand, through the murkiness of your window. “Wait, let me show you something!” He ducks his head and disappears from view.

You wait. Even at such a young age, you were staring at him with a kind of exasperation and amusement that would follow the both of you through childhood. 

He reappears in the window holding a variety of DvDs in his hands. “My dad got me a new DvD player for my birthday. Do you want to come over?” 

He senses you hesitating before you. Vernon had always read you better than you could ever read yourself. “I have the new Terminator movie!” He waves the DvD case enticingly. 

You nod, agreeing to meet him at his front door for the movie. You watch him beam in excitement. 

Looking back at the memory, you still recall how you didn’t give a damn about the new Terminator movie. You had agreed purely because of the joy Vernon had on his face, sitting next to him in his bedroom as he ranted about how cool the action scenes were. Something about the reloading of a gun with one hand. 

You didn’t regret it, even now, in hindsight. It gave you your first dearest friend– and a stranger that would hold those memories in the palm of his hands, even if you’d never see each other again. 

Vernon rigs up a telephone between your windows. 

It’s made up of an old clothesline, paper cups, and a whole lot of duct tape. The device is reminiscent of the telephone line the two of you had made in science class at school. 

“Now we can talk whenever we want.” Vernon explains, tiny fingers tying the line to the hook by your curtains. 

“We already talk whenever we want.” You point out. 

Vernon glances back at you with a frown on his face. “Yeah, but we’re always yelling. What if we had secrets to share?” 

“You’re always over at my house anyways.” You rebuke his argument once again. 

His shoulders sink. “Shut up.” 

You walk over to tug at the knot, making sure it was secure. “I’m only joking, Nonnie. It’s a good idea.” 

Vernon lights up at the compliment. “Right?”

The two of you don’t ever use the telephone device. Instead, secrets are told underneath the duvet and in closets covered by winter jackets. 

Your parents joke that it won’t be long before their two families become one. It already has, Vernon’s parents are yours and vice versa, yet both you and Vernon are too young to understand that what your parents are implying is marriage. 

“Y/N, you must like Vernon.” Your mother comments causally on a random Tuesday afternoon. 

You’re one foot out the door towards Vernon’s house. 

“Yes, of course.” You reply, eyebrows furrowing at the question. “Vernon’s my best friend.” 

Your mother shares a smile with your father over the kitchen counter. 

“I swear one day I’ll be walking you down the aisle to marry that boy.” Your father jokes, a stern yet comedic expression crossing his face. 

You shrug, not quite getting it. “Whatever. Can I go play with Vernon now?” 

In the house next to yours, Vernon is faced with the same confusion. You enter his living room just in time to hear his father ask him about you. 

“So, you must really like Y/N.” 

Vernon’s sitting on the sofa, legs swinging mid-air, picking out the next movie you’re about to watch together. “Yes, of course I like Y/N.” 

“Like her enough to marry her one day?” There’s humour in his father’s voice at the question. 

Vernon shrugs. “Sure.” He spots you standing there and jumps off the sofa to pull you upstairs. “We’re watching a movie! We’ll be down for dinner.” 

It’s a silly joke, really. Neither you or Vernon thinks much of it. The conversation fades from memory as the two of you grow older, but the sentiment stays. As if it was something important that was supposed to happen. 

Vernon gets a puppy for his tenth birthday. 

You’re jealous, as you watch his parents settle the white and fluffy dog into his arms. 

“I want a puppy too!” You complain, pouting at your own parents. “Why does Nonnie get one? I’m literally older.” 

The parents laugh and Vernon raises the puppy towards you, a crooked smile on his face. 

“Here, Y/N.” He sets the ball of fur into your lap. “It can be our puppy. You can visit her whenever you want.” 

Both your parents coo at the sight, but they fall upon deaf ears. You stroke the puppy’s head and smile. “She’s cute.” 

Vernon hums, agreeing. “You should name her. I can’t decide.” 

“Snow.” It’s easy. Snow was you and Vernon’s favourite kind of weather. “She’s like a little snowball.” 

You can tell by the grin on Vernon’s face that he loves it. “She’s so tiny.” He scoops her up with just one hand and admires her. “I hope she stays this tiny.”

“The puppy will grow.” Your father comments from the other side of the living room. “She’ll grow with the both of you.”

You share a look with Vernon. “We’re never growing.”

“Yeah.” Vernon agrees. “I wanna stay like this forever.” 

It’s a childish comment. A fleeting, impossible wish to capture and freeze your childhood bliss. 

The first kiss is a stumble, a tentative and clumsy display of pure affection. 

You blink as Vernon pulls away, light pink coating his cheeks underneath the dimming light coming from the window. 

“What was that?” You raise a hand to your face as you feel warmth bloom into your cheeks. 

Vernon shrugs. “My parents do it all the time. They say you do it when you really love someone.” 

You smile. “You love me?” 

Vernon nods. “Of course.” 

“I love you too.” 

Vernon laces his hand in yours and turns back to the book he had been reading. Your heads bump together as you stretch out on the carpeted floor to read beside him. 

Neither one of you brings up the kiss again. Or the declaration of love. 

The first crack in the glass takes place somewhere in fifth grade. 

You knock on Vernon’s door, arms ladened with snacks and candy for your weekly movie binge on Friday nights. Sour Patch, Kinder Surprise, a bottle of orange juice. Vernon’s personal selection. 

His mom opens the door instead. 

“Vernon went out with his friends, honey.” There’s an apologetic look on her face that looks almost like sympathy. 

“Oh. He didn’t tell me.” It’s strange, but you don’t think much of it. You hand the snacks to his mother. “Give these to him, please.” 

“Don’t you want to keep these for yourself?” 

You shake your head. “I don’t like them very much. It’s Vernon’s favourite.” 

Vernon’s room is empty when you enter yours. The lights are off, and you squint to see that the Spiderman stickers have been peeled off the walls opposite his bed. 

One missed Friday night turns into two. Then three. Your parents pull you out of public school and move you to a school a city away. Friday movie nights become something a lifetime ago. 

You still see Vernon through the window some nights. You’re not home much anymore, and neither is he. 

But on the occasional nights where your schedules line up, you could spot him moving about his room, doing whatever teenage boys did. 

There are posters of cars and famous musicians covering his walls now. A new bed, a new gaming console. It looks entirely foreign– like you had never stepped foot into it before. 

Sometimes Vernon glances your way and you lock eyes. 

You wonder if he feels the same way about you that you feel about him. If your room also looked like a stranger’s. The pink walls were purple now, the childish toys on the counter replaced by books and a makeup mirror. 

He almost always looks away first. He’d blink rapidly as he averted his gaze to anything else, as if the very sight of you had burned his corneas and was painful to watch. 

You see him one last time at neighbourhood barbecue night in the middle of August. 

“Hey.” His voice is deeper now. He’s grown into himself. 

“Hi.” You don’t fail to notice the way his eyes rake across your figure as if he was trying to pick out what parts of you he still recognized. 

“I heard you’re leaving town. Heading east?” He shuffles until he stands right next to you, arm brushing against yours. 

“Yeah.” You had never planned to stay in your hometown for university. “I heard you’re staying.” 

Vernon nods. “I am. You know I never planned on leaving.” 

You’re caught off guard by the sudden familiarity because, you do know. “I guess.” You say instead. 

There’s a pause before Vernon speaks again, and your heart coils at his next words. 

“Snow misses you.” His voice is quiet, barely audible over the hum of the crowd. “She doesn’t understand why you stopped showing up.” He pauses. ��I don’t either.” 

The admission is quiet. Heavy. Altogether unwelcoming. 

“Oh.” There’s nothing else you can say. I’m sorry didn’t really feel like enough. 

“You left.” He adds, and there’s no accusation in his voice. Just a fact. 

The past is a blip in your memory as you try and recall what exactly tore the two of you apart. “I guess I did. I didn’t have much of a choice though. My parents wanted–” 

“I know. And I guess I wasn’t that great of a friend once we got older.” Vernon remembers neglecting you in favour of his newer, cooler friends. 

He reaches for your hand as the neighbour uncles start lighting the fireworks. It’s a fumble, uncoordinated and unfamiliar, as your fingers laced together for the first time in years. Neither one of you says anything, as you crane your necks to watch the fireworks fly. 

Vernon squeezes your hand once. Twice. One final time. 

A silent goodbye. A silent agreement that it was for good this time. 

You return to your childhood bedroom after graduating university. It’s a stranger to you now too. 

A shadow crosses your wall as you pack your childhood into cardboard boxes. You turn to see Vernon’s window is opened, and you watch silently as he packs his own memories into boxes too. 

He still looks the same through that window. Grown, taller, but still the same. 

You were proper strangers now. Strangers who knew each other takeout orders. Strangers who had seen each other laugh. And cry. And leave. 

A twist of pain enters your chest as you watch Vernon close his curtains. His eyes are fixed on a patch of peeling paint on your side of the house– anything to not look at you.

The curtains slide shut. A finale to your time together.

You each leave your respective houses and drive towards the undecided future as two separate entities. 

The bedrooms are empty, quiet. 

The telephone line sways in the wind, dirty and frayed. Neither one of you ever attempt to take it down. 

author’s note : 

A letter to r. 

In all honesty, I can barely remember you now. I remember blips, as if the times with you were something in dreams. 

But I do remember how alive I felt next to you, the middle of the summer, barrelling down the sidewalk in a golf cart. I remember how your dog’s claws feel against the skin of my thighs whenever she’d jump up to welcome me in. I remember movie night. I remember you. 

We don’t see much of each other anymore. And in all honesty, I’m okay with that. We were brilliant together as kids but sometimes things are just that. Just that. Nothing more than a pair of best friends who thought we could never grow up and stay innocent and lively forever. 

There’s a poem I wrote, years ago, as I walked past your house on my way to work. 

ten years old  driving a golf cart down the hill  going too fast, we tipped over  and almost killed ourselves  your dad and my dad joked we’d grow up to marry each other neither one of us took that seriously  we don’t talk anymore  i walk past your house on the way to work each summer morning your dog still sits patiently outside your window as if she’s waiting for me to come home after six years  as if she doesn’t understand why i stopped showing up 

 I hope you remember it all too.