#but I’m starting to feel better lately! and seeing your message cheered me up a lot when I was still really going through it

[thefinalsnart]

We don't know each other but I stumbled upon your blog and wanted to say Hi! How are you? I hope you're having a great day!!!

Hello!! I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to answer this until now, but it’s so sweet you stopped by and said hello! I’m doing alright today, and I hope you’ve been doing alright yourself. ❤️

[corroded-hellfire]

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 10

Written with the help of my beloved @munson-blurbs

Summary: The time comes for the first custody hearing between Eddie and his estranged wife. You do your best to be there for both him and his sons.

Note: I do not know the ins and outs of the legal system, so I did my best when it came to the court scene

Warnings: mentions of bad parents, Brittany, slut shaming, i think that's it?

Words: 9.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

There’s just over a week to go until the first court date and you can tell your boyfriend is on edge. Every time he sees the boys, he’s overly cheerful. You know he’s trying to make it seem like nothing is wrong, but the kids aren’t dumb. They see right through the forced happiness, even confiding in you after school one day about how weird they think Eddie is being. That night you pull him to the side to relay that message—but in much nicer terms.

Since that discussion, Eddie’s been more himself. He still forces himself to be more upbeat around the boys, but that’s more of wanting them to be around positivity and as much light as possible while they continue to struggle with the thought of two separate homes. 

Once the boys are in bed, or are at the house with Brittany, you take advantage of the time alone with your boyfriend. He’s stressed beyond belief, and you want to make damn sure that he knows you’re here for him in whatever way he needs. 

Evenings usually start with dinner, then a movie on the couch, but end up with Eddie’s head on your lap and you play with his hair as he gets things off his mind. Sometimes you just listen, sometimes you speak your mind in reply. 

“I know I’m the better parent,” he tells you one night a few days before the trial. “But I also know that courts usually rule in the mom’s favor. And what if…what if the boys don’t want to be with me most of the time?”

“Why on earth wouldn’t they want that?” you ask. “You know you’re their favorite. Because you are the better parent.”

Eddie squeezes your hand gently where they rest entwined on his chest. 

“I know. But home is familiar to them. It’s the only home Luke has ever known and the only one Ryan remembers. There are memories there, their old rooms are there, their favorite toys. It’s safe and comforting.”

“Do you think it’s going to feel that way with just Brittany around?” you ask in response. “Also, I think you have a double-edged sword there.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you said that the boys have memories there.” With your free hand you gently boop the tip of Eddie’s nose with your index finger. “I’m sure there are memories from that house that the boys would rather forget. Yeah, there are memories of Christmases and birthday parties, but there are also memories of Brittany screaming at them for no reason. Or of times when their mom was supposed to come home for whatever reason, like dinner or a special occasion, but she was late as usual. Here, Ryan and Luke won’t look at the front door and think of all the times they stared at it, waiting for it to open with their mother on the other side. The walls here don’t hold disappointments like the ones at the house do.”

Eddie gazes up at you with those big doe eyes and a charmingly crooked smile.

“My college girl is so smart,” he says softly.

You chuckle in reply and bring a hand up to his hair. Gently, you scratch your nails against his scalp. Eddie hums in appreciation and turns on his side so his face is buried in your belly. He mumbles against the material of your shirt, but you can’t make out what he said.

“What?”

He pulls away just enough for you to hear him.

“I’m scared.” His voice is low, and he keeps eyes on your midsection. 

He’s never said that to you before. You frown as you gently card your fingers through his bangs.

“Of what?” you ask softly. 

Eddie shrugs and you move your hand to cup the side of his face, your thumb gently brushing over his left cheekbone. It feels like the entire apartment complex has gone silent, not a sound to be heard except your breathing. 

“A lot,” he finally admits. “Messing up in court and not getting to see my boys anymore. Brittany lying so viciously that I don’t get to see them anymore. Them deciding they don’t want to stay with me. Putting them in the middle of this and it messing with their heads. Of Brittany trying to turn them against me.” He pauses and chews on his bottom lip, and you know there’s something else that he doesn’t want to say. You don’t want to push him, but you also want to make sure he knows that he can confide in you. 

“What, sweetheart? You know you can tell me anything.”

He sighs and rolls onto his back. You watch the reflection of the ceiling fan spin round and round in his dark misty eyes. After a minute of silence, Eddie reaches up and takes one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to the back of it before he holds it in his own and rests them on his chest.

“I know I can,” he says. “But I know you. And if I tell you that I’m worried that you’re somehow going to get hurt during all of this, you’re just going to tell me not to worry about you. Which, I don’t know if you know this or not, doesn’t really work.”

It's another double-edged sword, that he knows this about you. Because, on the one hand, it feels really good to be known so well and loved so deeply by him. But on the other hand, now you can’t use that reasoning with him, which doesn’t give you much of a leg to stand on. Instead, you come up with another question.

“How do you think I’m going to get hurt?”

A long inhale puffs up Eddie’s chest before a heavy sigh deflates it. 

“I’m worried someone is going to say something dumb on accident. Me or the boys. Or Brittany, only it wouldn’t be an accident. I’d rather you not be near us while all of this is going on, really. But I’m too selfish for that. I need you here with me.” He brings your joined hands up to his lips and presses a few kisses against your knuckles. “You keep me sane when the rest of the world is trying to throw me off my rocker.”

“Eddie, my love,” you begin, “it’s very sweet that you’re thinking about me but I’m not some delicate little flower that will crumble at an unintentionally—or intentionally, in her case—unkind thing that’s said while you’re all going through this. It’s insanely stressful, which can wear down patience sometimes. But I know you love me. I know the boys love me. The three of you would never say something to try and hurt me on purpose. And Brittany? Well, I don’t give a rat’s ass about what she says to me—or about me.”

A small smile grows on Eddie’s face, and you’re relaxed by the sight. He licks over his lips before he speaks.

“You be my rock now, and I promise to be yours from now on. Whenever you need me.”

“Oh, I don’t know if you know what you’re signing up for there, buddy,” you say with a chuckle. 

“You somehow deal with me, a genius little boy who is always rattling off things that he’s learned, a little hellion tornado of a boy, and did I mention me? Princess, if you can handle the three of us, the three of us can be there for you with no problem.”

You gaze down at him with a fond smile on your lips. 

“I feel super honored that you trust me enough to open up,” you tell him in a voice close to a whisper. “I know how lucky I am.”

“I open up to you because I feel safe with you,” he tells you. “It’s weird, I never… This is a new kind of safety for me. Finding safety in another person. I didn’t know this kind of thing existed.”

“Me neither, honestly,” you admit. “It’s a deeper level of trust than I’ve ever had before.” 

“I thank God just about every damn day that you came into my life. And the boys’ lives.”

“Oh, Mr. Religious all of a sudden?” you tease, leaning down so your face is hovering over his.

“Hey,” Eddie says with a chuckle, “I’ll thank whatever being in whatever realm or universe that had us cross paths.”

“Maybe it was aliens,” you joke, widening your eyes in alarm.  

“Then I’ll learn how to thank them in Klingon.”

Your nose wrinkles up, and Eddie thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“Do aliens speak Klingon? Does Spock speak it? Is Spock even an alien?” you ask. 

“Ah, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my nerd knowledge doesn’t reach quite that far. You’ll just have to be content with me knowing an inordinate amount about D&D creatures.”

You shrug, pretending to consider it.

“I guess I can live with that.”

The long-awaited Monday has finally arrived, and it fills everyone with nerves. Eddie took the whole day off from work, so he takes his time making the boys breakfast and getting them ready for school. 

As the two boys take their seats at the table, Eddie notices Ryan acting a bit more withdrawn than usual. Luke is his usual self, shoving spoonfuls of Lucky Charms into his mouth while his short legs swing back and forth beneath the table. Ryan is older and the more sensitive of the two, so Eddie isn’t surprised that he has the better sense of what will be happening today. 

“Whatcha gonna be working on today in school?” Eddie asks his oldest as he plops down between his boys at the table, a full bowl of cornflakes thudding on the table in front of him.

“Oh, uh,” Ryan starts, looking down into his bowl as his spoon stirs marshmallow pieces around, leaving streaks of blue, pink, and green throughout the milk. “We’re reading about Sacagawea.” 

“Ah, alright,” Eddie says between bites of cereal. “She was a pretty cool lady, huh?”

Ryan nods and scoops some oat pieces onto his spoon.

“Who’s Sar…Sarcas…Sarcophagus?” Luke asks through a mouthful of cereal. 

“Sacagawea,” Eddie corrects him with a soft chuckle. “Go ahead, Ry. Tell us what you’ve learned so far.”

“Uh, okay.” He sounds less than thrilled. But when the second grader starts to talk about something interesting he’s learning, he gets excited. “She was a Native American. And she went with Lewis and Clark to explore the west.”

“What makes her so cool?” Luke asks, shoveling in another spoonful.

“She did the whole thing with her newborn baby strapped to her,” Eddie replies.

“And she was only sixteen,” Ryan adds.

“Really?” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Wow. I didn’t know that.”

“She was a mommy at sixteen?”

Eddie thinks Luke’s eyes are going to pop out of his skull. 

“People had babies earlier back then,” Ryan answers, much to Eddie’s relief. He also notices the improvement in Ryan’s mood now that his brain has something else to focus on. 

The more pleasant atmosphere keeps up while the boys get dressed and Eddie packs their lunches. It does feel weird to put on a suit instead of his normal t-shirt and jeans, though. 

“You look funny,” Luke says as his eyes scan over his father’s gray slacks and matching blazer. 

“What else is new?” Eddie jokes, trying to keep the mood light. The white dress shirt tucked into his pants is an odd feeling and all Eddie can focus on is wanting to yank it free.

“Where’s your tie, Mr. Fancy Pants?” Ryan asks as he grabs his lunch off the counter.

Eddie stalls in his movements before turning to face his oldest son.

“Should I wear one?” He feels silly for asking the seven-year-old, but he feels self-conscious now that Ryan pointed it out. 

“I dunno,” Ryan answers with a shrug. “I just thought you’d wear one.”

The first real tick of nervousness hits Eddie now. It irks him that it’s not even about court itself, but whether or not he should wear a tie. He sighs and goes to grab one of the few ties he owns from his dresser. You’ll know if he should wear it or not. 

Instead of waiting for the bus, Eddie says he’s going to drive the kids to school since he has the time. He doesn’t have to be in court until this afternoon and he’s meeting you for coffee after your first class. 

It’s a nice mellow morning and it continues to get better when they’re all loaded up in the truck and Luke turns on the radio. 

“Ah, this song!” The six-year-old’s face lights up and he bops his head along to the beat. “It’s my favorite part!”

Both Ryan and Eddie join in to sing:

Chickity China, the Chinese chicken

You have a drumstick and your brain stops tickin' 

Eddie turns the volume up as the truck approaches a red light. Once they’re completely stopped, Eddie thrashes his head back and forth, headbanging to the song that’s taken over the airwaves. Ryan and Luke both giggle, watching their father’s frizzy curls go flying all around, before joining in and headbanging to “One Week” as well.

The light turns green and Eddie resumes driving responsibly, but that doesn’t mean his boys have to stop headbanging.

It's been one week since you looked at me

Dropped your arms to the sides and said, "I'm sorry"

Five days since I laughed at you and said

"You just did just what I thought you were gonna do.”

Ryan finishes singing out the song while Luke flails his curls around for the remainder of it. It’s perfect timing, as Eddie is pulling into the drop-off lane at school just as the song ends. 

“I’ll see you squirts later, alright? Have a good day at school.”

“Bye, Daddy!” Luke gives Eddie a quick side hug before climbing over his older brother to get out of the car.

“What time are you going to be home?” Ryan asks.

“I’m not sure,” Eddie tells him honestly. “But I’ll definitely be home in time for dinner.”

The boy nods, placated by this answer. He leans in and wraps his arms as far as he can around his dad’s torso.

“I love you,” Ryan says. 

“I love you, too.” Eddie rubs his hand over his son’s back, trying to convey so many thoughts and emotions in the one touch. 

It’s going to be okay.

I’ll see you soon.

I’ll never stop fighting for you.

The moment Eddie sees you tucked away into the corner booth at the small cafe on campus, he feels lighter. Simply being in your presence is enough to melt Eddie’s stresses away. Instead of sitting down across the table from you, Eddie decides to slide into the same booth you’re sitting at and instantly wraps his arms around your waist.

Without looking up from the book you’re reading for your Renaissance Literature class, you say, “If you’re going to feel me up you better hurry, because my boyfriend is on his way.”

“This boyfriend of yours is very lucky,” Eddie murmurs as he leans in to press a kiss to the side of your neck. 

“He is. Especially because I ordered his coffee just the way he likes it.” You shut your book and slide a white paper cup tucked into a brown cardboard sleeve in front of him. 

“You taste better,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss just below your ear.

The feel of his warm breath dancing across your skin coupled with his sultry words sends a shiver down your spine. Eddie notices the little tremor that passes through your body and pulls back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

“Drink your coffee,” you say, trying to will the heat away from your face as you put your book away. The last thing Eddie needs is to be late to court because you can’t keep your legs closed when it comes to him. 

That statement is especially true when you turn and get your first real look at your boyfriend. You’ve never seen him in a suit before and the urge to drag him into the back of your car grows even stronger. 

“Damn, you look good,” you say softly, leaning forward to run your hands over the material of the blazer. 

Eddie does his best to ignore the way your eyes darken and how you bite your lip—but it’s tough. Maybe this suit isn’t so bad after all. 

“Oh,” Eddie says as he remembers the rolled-up tie in his pocket. He fishes it out and holds it up for you to see. “I wasn’t sure if I should wear this or not.”

Your eyes take in the dark red tie, then look back over Eddie’s ensemble. 

“I say yes. It’ll add a nice pop of color, as well.” 

Eddie flips up his collar and slips the tie around his neck. You watch as his deft, guitar-playing fingers fiddle with it until it’s properly knotted. 

“Do you think I should put my hair back?” Eddie asks.

Opposing emotions fight for dominance in your body. One side is getting worked up because he already looks drop dead gorgeous and now he wants to put his hair back in a bun? Is he trying to kill you? But the other side hears the slight shake in his voice and breaks because this poor man is so nervous and unsure. Never more have you wished for a magic wand to wave and make all his problems go away. 

“Want me to tie it back for you, sweetie?”

He nods and you can see a minuscule amount of relief in his eyes. It’s no secret that he loves your hands in his hair, and it always calms him when you play with it. Though you don’t have time for that, you make sure to gently brush his hair back from his face with your fingers before securing it at the base of his neck. 

When he turns back around to face you, he lets out a sigh that has his shoulders sagging.

“I don’t want to go,” he admits quietly. 

“I know.” You reach up and gently cup the side of his face. “But everything is going to be okay. You’re going to tell the judge the truth and he’ll see that you’re the all-around better parent. And I’ll pick up the boys from school like usual and distract them to keep their minds off of what’s happening today. Even if I need to use puppies and candy to do it.”

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head.

“Great. Now I get to worry about coming home to a hopped-up Luke begging me to keep a dog.”

You smile at him and lean forward to gently peck his lips.

“You’ve got this, Eddie.”

He takes a deep breath and nods his head.

“I got this.”

Everything echoes. That’s Eddie’s first thought as he steps inside the courthouse. Every footstep, every cough, every conversation bounces off the walls and reverberates in the hollow space of the atrium. Brown eyes take in the gray marble that seems to cover every surface. Towards a hallway to the left, Eddie spots his attorney, which relaxes him and kicks up his nerves at the same time.

“Hey, Carl,” Eddie greets as he approaches the man. He can’t help but notice that his lawyer’s suit looks infinitely more expensive than his own. It makes sense though, given that the man practically gets paid by the hour what Eddie makes in a day.

“How are you, Mr. Munson?” Carl asks as he offers his hand.

Eddie’s told him several times to call him by his first name, but it always reverts back to the more formal. It makes Eddie feel old, though. When he hears “Mr. Munson” he either thinks someone is talking about Wayne or has flashbacks to Ms. O’Donnell scolding him in high school.

“Doing alright,” Eddie replies, but his shaky tone conveys that it’s less than true. 

“Ah, it’s going to be okay,” Carl says, gesturing for Eddie to follow him down a long hallway. “I’ve been in front of Judge Rogers plenty of times and he’s a fair guy. One of the better ones we could’ve asked for.”

Eddie nods his head and takes a deep breath as Carl comes to a stop in front of a set of mahogany double doors. The air in the courtroom is stifling, invading all of his senses. It only gets worse when he takes his seat next to his lawyer. 

Sweat beads at the nape of his neck, and it takes all of his willpower not to yank off his tie right then and there. His slacks—a far cry from his usual cotton coveralls or denim jeans—itch his legs. His dress shoes are laced too tight, squeezing his toes until he feels his pulse in his feet. 

I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this. 

Negativity floods every pore. Eddie shuts his eyes, steadying his breathing with reminders of who this is all for. In—Ryan. Out—Luke. 

Happiness. Peace. Love. Family. 

The room is silent, save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall. The secondhand glides past the twelve, signaling that it is now officially one o’clock. Time to begin. A glance at the other side of the courtroom shows that there is no other parent of Ryan and Luke present. 

The mahogany doors open once more and Eddie looks over his shoulder, expecting to see his soon-to-be ex-wife. But the only person walking down to the front of the room is another lawyer, by the looks of his suit. Brittany’s lawyer, presumably. He’s taller and younger than Carl, but Eddie just tells himself that means Carl has more experience on his side.

A heavy door behind the judge’s stand swings open on squeaking hinges and a bailiff steps out, the judge following right behind him.

“All rise,” the bailiff says. There are only three others in the room, so Eddie, Carl, and the third attorney stand as the judge takes his seat. 

“So, we’ve got Eddie Munson, correct?” Judge Rogers looks down at a few pieces of paperwork set in front of him before looking over the top of his bifocals at Eddie. 

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“And it looks like Brittany Munson is not here.” Judge Rogers looks up at the other lawyer for confirmation.

“Um, no Your Honor, I—”

A large bang covers up his next words as the double doors are shoved open. This time when Eddie looks over his shoulder, it is Brittany hurrying into the room. Her usually impeccably styled hair is a little askew. It’s all pulled up into a bun on the back of her head, that she sometimes wears to work. Her outfit is also one of the many skirt and blazer sets that are part of her repertoire for her job at the bank. 

Eddie glances at the clock on the wall again. Maybe this was her lunch break and there was traffic. But as Brittany gets closer, Eddie notices her blouse. It’s a silky pale blue that she’s worn a hundred times, but that’s not what catches his eye. It’s the fact that the blouse is not buttoned up correctly. She either missed a hole or there’s a button not tucked into where it’s supposed to be. 

A low disbelieving chuckle tumbles from Eddie’s mouth at this all-too-common occurrence he became acquainted with during their marriage. The unkempt hair, the disheveled clothes, and the way her face is slightly flushed, and her breathing is a little faster than usual tells Eddie exactly why Brittany is late, and it has nothing to do with work. Unless it was one of her co-workers she was fucking. Hell, Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if she was fucking her lawyer. 

“Nice of you to join us, Mrs. Munson,” the judge grumbles as Brittany takes her spot next to her lawyer.

Ugh, did he have to call her Mrs. Munson? Eddie internally gripes.

“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” Brittany says as she tries to smooth back some loose strands of hair. She offers no explanation or excuse for where she’s been, and Eddie thinks that’s for the better. 

“Alright.” Judge Rogers clears his throat before he smacks his gavel down. “Let’s begin.”

After school today it’s just you, Ryan, and Luke. Karen Wheeler came to pick up the Harrington kids and take them back to her place so your focus could be on the Munson boys. 

Neither brother has said anything about their parents being at court today by the time you get back to Eddie’s apartment, and if they’re not going to bring it up, neither are you. You prepare them a snack while they sit at the kitchen table, starting on their homework. 

It’s not long before the apple slices and peanut butter have disappeared, and the homework has been finished. Luke shoves his work folder back into his book bag and wanders off for a moment before returning with crayons and a small stack of paper. While he’s rummaging through the crayon box, Ryan reaches over and plucks the piece of paper on top of the pile. Instead of reaching over to use some of his little brother’s crayons, Ryan picks up the pencil he used for his homework and presses the tip of it onto the top of the sheet of paper.

“Whatcha doing, Ry?” you ask as you dry off their snack plate that you just washed. 

“Um…” Ryan chews on his lip for a moment before looking up at you. “I wanna write a letter. Actually, can you help me?”

“Of course.” You put the plate away and make your way over to the table. The chair next to the seven-year-old scrapes against the floor as you pull it out to sit. “Who is the letter for?”

The little boy bites at his lip again and it makes you frown. This isn’t a usual habit of his. He avoids your eyes as he looks down at the blank paper, nerves radiating off of his small frame. 

“The judge at court,” he finally says. 

“Oh.” You clear your throat after realizing your pitch was too high. “What do you want to say?”

Ryan sighs and taps the point of the pencil against the paper.

“I don’t like that I can’t go with Daddy and tell the judge how I feel. They’re talking about me and Luke, but Daddy said they might not ask us what we want. I don’t like that.”

The words crack your heart. He feels like he has no control over the situation. and the sad fact is that you can’t tell him that he’s wrong. The court might not ask Ryan and Luke who they want to live with. But Ryan’s determination to have his voice be heard is a testament to how Eddie’s raising him. 

“I’m proud of you,” you tell him, reaching up to move some of his hair off of his forehead. “I know this isn’t easy.”

“I also don’t wanna be there cause I’d be scared,” Ryan admits quietly. 

“That makes complete sense, sweetheart. I think most adults even get nervous in court. I know I would be. Daddy doesn’t like it either. But he would do it over and over again for you both. He’d do anything for you.”

“I know,” he says confidently. 

“Good.” 

Luke’s crayons scratch against his paper, and you look over at him. He’s hunched over the table with his small tongue poking out as the green crayon moves back and forth against the page. He doesn’t seem stressed like his older brother is. You hope that’s really the case though, and he’s not hiding or internalizing his feelings. 

“So,” you say with a sigh, turning to Ryan again, “how do you want to start the letter?”

So far, the hearing isn’t as bad as Eddie thought. For some reason he thought he’d be tripping over his words, not sure how to answer the questions asked of him. But even though it is nerve wracking, it’s pretty easy; all Eddie has to do is tell the truth.

“What is the living situation of the children?” the judge asks.

“They live with me in the house,” Brittany is quick to answer. “Eddie sees them after school sometimes, or on the weekend.”

“I just moved to a new apartment,” Eddie says once Brittany has finished. “And the boys are almost done setting up their rooms the way they like. So, I’ll start having them overnights as well.”

“No, I don’t want that.”

Brittany’s lawyer leans in to whisper something in her ear after the outburst. 

Judge Rogers scribbles something down before moving on to the next question. 

“How are each of you involved in their daily life?”

“I’m very involved,” Eddie makes sure to answer first. “I’m the one who makes them breakfast, moves them along to get ready for school, and gets them out on the bus. I know their favorite toys, games, shows, movies. You name it, I know it. They feel comfortable telling me anything because they know I’m always there for them.”

“He’s also very involved with the babysitter,” Brittany adds.

Eddie’s vision goes red. His hands tighten into fists beneath the table, and he does his best to breathe through his anger. 

Brittany doesn't attempt to add anything further, which Eddie realizes is because there’s nothing much she can contribute. She doesn’t know anything about her own sons and has virtually no part in their everyday routines. 

When the judge realizes there’s nothing else coming from Brittany, he moves on.

“That brings me to my next question, then,” he says. “What third parties are involved in their care?”

“My uncle, who is grandpa to the kids, will watch them sometimes,” Eddie says. “They like to go over and spend the night at his place a lot during the summer because they like to make s’mores over the fire pit. And there’s my best friends, Steve and Nancy, whose kids are best friends with my boys. So, they spend a lot of time there. And my, um, their babysitter. She picks them up from school every day and watches them until either I or Brittany come home from work.”

A witch’s cackle comes from the other side of the courtroom. Fitting, for who it’s coming from. 

“That ‘babysitter’ is the whole reason why we’re in this mess! She’s a little homewrecker who seduced my husband and now they’re shacking up together with my kids there.”

If Eddie thought he was mad before, now he’s in danger of turning into the Hulk. Brittany dares to call you a homewrecker when she’s the one who has been cheating for most of their marriage? When she’s the one who has skipped out on countless family events just to go fuck some other guy? The fact that she even had the audacity to entertain the thought that she might have the higher ground? Eddie’s surprised flames aren’t shooting out of his ears. 

“That isn’t true, Your Honor.” Eddie is doing his best to sound calm, but there’s a noticeable edge to his voice. “I mean, yes, I am involved with the babysitter, but the rest of what she said is a lie.”

Judge Rogers takes his bifocals off and sets them down on the desk in front of him. “Care to elaborate?”

“First of all, this divorce was a long time coming. I don’t mean to get crude, Your Honor, but Brittany has stepped out with countless men while we were married. It was lie after lie, but I knew the truth. And I was relieved when it was very obvious my sons are mine. That is what led us here today.”

“So, did you leave your wife for this babysitter? And are you living together?” Judge Rogers puts his glasses back on and makes another note. 

“No, Your Honor,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “To be perfectly honest, I was at a place of not caring that I was constantly being lied to and cheated on anymore. I became numb and just went through the motions of my life. I didn’t want to break up my boys’ family, so I did nothing. But when I met her—the babysitter, she helped me realize that I deserve better. In my opinion, I was a great husband. I did my best and stuck it out. But it became clear that the atmosphere in the house was too hostile for the boys. I’d rather them have two peaceful homes than one painful one.” Eddie pauses and licks over his lips before continuing. “I briefly stayed with the babysitter while I went through the process of getting my apartment, but the boys never stayed the night there. And the babysitter continues to live in her apartment and I in mine.”

“How do the boys feel about this babysitter?” Judge Rogers asks as he keeps writing. Eddie can’t help but wonder what he’s taking down.

“They love her. In fact, they tried to set her and I up.”

Brittany scoffs but says nothing. Eddie refuses to look in her direction and keeps his focus on the judge. 

Talking about you was relieving. Honestly, a part of Eddie had been afraid that he wouldn’t come off looking good if you got brought up. But he now sees how ridiculous that is, because in the reality of everything, Brittany has no leg to stand on whatsoever when it comes to you. 

“This is a vacation with me and my best buddy.”

“Donald Duck?”

“No, silly, with you!”

A knock on the apartment door distracts you from A Goofy Movie, and you push yourself up off the couch, leaving a gap between the boys as you head to open it. 

Wayne stands on the other side, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his rugged jeans. 

“Hey, darlin’,” he greets.

“Hey, Wayne. Come on in.” You move to the side so the older man can step inside. 

“How they doing?” Wayne asks quietly, nodding his head towards the boys on the couch.

“I think they’re doing alright,” you tell him as you close the door, making sure to keep your voice low as well. “Ryan wanted to write a letter to the judge before. So, we did that, and I think it let him get some of his emotions out. Luke seems like his usual self. I’m just worried he’s bottling it all up.”

Wayne nods his head and lets out a small sigh.

“And how are you doing?” he asks. 

The question catches you off guard. Honestly, you haven’t been thinking about how you’re feeling today. Your focus has been on Eddie and the boys and trying to make things as painless as possible for them. 

“I’m…okay,” you say. “More worried about Eddie and the boys. It affects them more so than me.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you, hon,” Wayne replies quickly. “You’re part of this family.”

His words cause you to choke on your emotions. He considers you family. He sees that you’re in this for the long haul and that you really do love and care for all of them. 

You force yourself to swallow and take a deep breath. It’s like Wayne’s words also gave you permission to feel your feelings about this whole ordeal. The front you had been putting up for Eddie and the boys was up so consistently that a part of you forgot that you had your own fears and worries deep down. Now, with the turn of a key, they all flood your head, dizzying you as you hold onto the back of a kitchen chair for balance.

“How can I support him?” you ask, voice soft and wobbly. “What if I somehow make him feel worse?”

Wayne’s eyebrows raise as he looks at you. Luke lets out a chuckle over where he’s watching the movie on the couch still, so Wayne gestures for you to follow him into the kitchen. 

“Darlin’, I don’t think you could do anything but make Ed feel better. You seen the way he lights up when you walk in a room? All you gotta do is be there for him. Ask him how he is. Listen to him. Nothing special, just what you’ve been doing for him all along.” 

“Well, that’s easy,” you say.

Wayne smiles and you tilt your head in question.

“It might seem a simple thing to you…but Ed ain’t had that kind of support in a relationship before. He ain’t been able to open up and talk freely. I remember he learned real quick to keep how he was feeling to himself when he started dating her. It broke me, but what could I do? He was dumb and in love. If I said anything ‘bout it, I would’ve lost my relationship with him and I wasn’t about to do that. But, hell, I saw him be open and comfortable with you practically from day one. You’ve always been willing to lend an ear and somethin’ inside of him picked up on that right away. Hon, by just being his friend you gave him more than his own wife did. It’s just who you are. And it’s part of why everyone in this home loves you so much.”

It’s impossible to see Wayne clearly through the tears that have pooled in your eyes. You refuse to let them fall, not wanting the boys to see even a hint of a tear track on your face. But your heart is so full it feels like it could burst. Somehow Wayne always knows the right thing to say. You’ve been grateful from the start that the man took Eddie in after everything went to hell with his parents, but it’s so obvious that was the best thing for Eddie for a myriad of reasons. No one could have raised him better or taken care of him more. 

“Thank you, Wayne.”

“It’s nothing, darlin’,” he says with a shake of his head. “I should be thanking you. For loving my boy the way he’s always deserved. All my boys.” He looks over to the couch where Ryan is sound asleep, and Luke looks to be in a losing battle with the sandman himself. 

“That’s something you never have to thank me for,” you tell him. “It’s the greatest pleasure of my life.”

As many times as Eddie got in trouble as a kid, he’s never been interrogated by the police before. Never had one of those moments you see on television where someone sits in an uncomfortable metal chair as a light shines in their face bright enough to burn their retinas. But sitting here, answering question after question for the judge, starts to feel like an interrogation after a while. Eddie could talk about his boys all day and night, but this was mostly talking about himself when it comes to the boys. He’s starting to feel over it all. But he keeps pressing through, always thinking of those two sweet faces at home anytime he wants to throw in the towel. 

“What are each parent’s plans for housing and stability loving forward?” Judge Rogers asks.

“I’m in the house,” Brittany reiterates, a smug tinge to her words. “With the yard and the pool.”

“Will you be able to remain there with solely your income?” The judge follows up.

Brittany’s mouth opens but no sound comes out. It tickles Eddie, but he manages to keep the smile off his face as he looks across the room at his ex. 

“I, u-um…” Brittany stutters. 

She’s got nothing, Eddie realizes. He knows her finances very well, having shared bills with her for the last decade. The mortgage took up most of their combined incomes every month, so Eddie knows there’s no way she can afford to stay there without him. 

“I’ll be able to remain there for a time,” Brittany finally says. “I’ll find a way to make it work.”

Eddie has to dig his fingernails into the palm of his hand, leaving little crescent moon shapes behind, so he doesn’t burst out laughing. Brittany’s not going to get a second job. She hates the first one enough as it is. All Eddie can think of “making it work” meaning is finding a sugar daddy, winning the lottery, robbing the bank she works at, or maybe borrowing money from her parents. Or a worst case scenario would be Brittany’s sister Sandy and her bratty kids moving in with her. 

“Mr. Munson?”

“As I’ve said, I have a new apartment. It’s now all fully furnished, all unpacked, and the boys have their rooms.” Eddie hates how repetitive this all is. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s mentioned his apartment, and he’s sure the judge knows it by now as well, but Eddie understands there are procedures that need to be followed. No matter how annoying they are. 

“Are there any concerns about the safety or well-being of the children in either home?” Judge Rogers asks, looking back and forth from Eddie to Brittany over the rim of his glasses. 

“I have reason to believe the boys are better off with me, due to Eddie’s drinking.”

This time Eddie almost succumbs to his rage. Brittany lying and the judge believing her was one of his worst fears, and here she is trying to do just that. Eddie can’t remember the last time he had a hard drink, only a beer or two after work. And actually, now that he’s thinking about it, he isn’t sure when he last had a beer. After moving into his apartment, he thinks. A bunch of them drank beer with the pizzas they had once the work was done. But a moment of clarity leads Eddie to a realization. He used to come home every night and have a beer. Now, it occurs to him that he hasn’t had a beer after work in a number of weeks. Because he doesn’t need one to deal with Brittany. He doesn’t need to attempt to numb himself to the horrible woman he was living with. Now he comes home to you. He can hug you, kiss you, talk with you. There’s something to be excited for when he comes home, now. You and his boys. 

“Drinking?” Judge Rogers asks her.

“Yes, Your Honor. Eddie drinks every night.”

“Is this true, Mr. Munson?”

“No,” Eddie responds confidently. “I used to have a beer or two when I’d come home from work, but that hasn’t happened in at least a month. And it was never more than one or two beers. I have never been drunk in front of my boys, but Brittany is not able to say the same.”

“Is this true, Mrs. Munson?”

“No,” she lies reflexively. The boys may have been too young to realize that’s what was going on with their mom, but it was most certainly the case. 

Eddie catches a quiet sigh from the judge as he jots down another note. It causes some of his nerves to flutter back in.

“Any other concerns about safety or well-being?”

“Perhaps you should mention how your upbringing has caused you to prioritize the safety of your boys,” Carl says softly to Eddie. 

He nods and clears his throat before speaking.

“Your Honor, I lived in an unsafe environment with my parents when I was young. Thankfully, I was placed with my uncle instead, which is the best possible place I could have been. I’ve lived and seen the difference between a home that has the well-being of children prioritized and one that doesn’t. It taught me how to make sure that my boys are always safe. Not just child-proofing the space or taking them to the doctor, but also by making sure they know how loved they are and that they can make mistakes and everything will be okay. That my love is unconditional, and I’ll always be on their side.”

“Would you say Mrs. Munson has those same priorities?” Judge Rogers asks.

“No.” Eddie didn’t even need to consider the question. He has so many examples on the tip of his tongue that if he told them all, they’d be there for days. “There have been instances of Brittany hiding the fact that our son Luke was sick from me, then taking him out of state just so her plans weren’t canceled. Both boys have also made remarks to me about knowing their mother does not care about them.”

“The boys have a preference?” Judge Rogers asks.

“Yes. They’ve both informed me that they’d prefer to be with me.”

“I don’t believe that,” Brittany immediately snaps back. 

“Feel free to ask them,” Eddie responds without looking in her direction. 

Carl nods at Eddie, letting him know he’s doing a good job. It comforts Eddie, but more than anything, he wishes for this to be over already. 

Thankfully, it’s only a short time later that the judge wraps things up.

“Alright, let’s get to the temporary custody arrangement,” he says. “What is the arrangement between the two of you now?”

“The babysitter,” Brittany begins, the acidity emphasized on your title, “brings them either to my house or the apartment, depending on our schedules.”

“Okay, we’ll keep it that way from now on, then,” Judge Rogers declares. “It’ll be fifty-fifty custody right now. Between the two of you, look at your schedules and decide how you’ll split the time. Weekends are also fifty-fifty, which can either be one parent with them on Saturday and one on Sunday, or both days with a single parent every other weekend.”

The arrangement doesn’t thrill Eddie, but he’s mostly relieved that Brittany didn’t get primary physical custody. He can live with this back and forth right now if he has to. 

Court is dismissed shortly after, and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief as he steps outside. The stuffiness of the courthouse disappears, and Eddie feels he can take a deep breath for the first time since entering earlier this afternoon. 

“Okay, let’s figure this out.”

Eddie looks behind him to see Brittany approaching him, her lawyer not exiting the building with her.

“Okay.” The familiar feeling of wanting to rip Brittany’s head off is right below the surface, but Eddie knows he has to keep things civil. 

“Why don’t you come back to the house, and we’ll talk about it? Since the boys are at the apartment.”

There’s a glimmer in her eye that instantly makes Eddie uncomfortable. Going back to the house with her? With them being the only two there? His stomach roils at the thought. Eddie has absolutely no trust in this woman whatsoever, and he wouldn’t put it past her to try something when they’re alone. Whether she tries to seduce him or uses the period of time to later claim that he harmed her in some way, Eddie isn’t risking it. He also wants to spend the least amount of time possible with her.

“Why don’t we go to a diner or something?” Eddie offers instead.

Brittany stares at him for a moment before rolling her eyes. It’s clear she’s irritated, but is she really dumb enough to think Eddie would fall for whatever is going on in that twisted mind of hers?

“Whatever,” Brittany scoffs. “I’ll do Monday to Wednesday morning, and you can do Wednesday night to Friday.”

The fact that she already had a plan in her back pocket only enforces Eddie’s idea that she wanted him to come back with her for another reason. 

“Weekends we’ll do by ear? Depending on if you work Saturdays or not,” Eddie says.

“Fine. Have your tramp drop them off at the house tomorrow.”

“Brittany…” Eddie seethes.

“Bye.” She gives him a small wave over her shoulder, throwing him an over-the-top smile before heading towards her car. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mumbles to himself as he heads towards his car in the opposite direction. “How did I ever love that bitch?”

As much as Eddie is yearning to see you and the boys, he knows he needs some time to cool off before going home. He takes a detour to visit the man who has the best track record of talking him down off the ledge.

“None of that surprises me, sadly,” Wayne says once Eddie finishes filling him in on the hearing. 

Eddie rolls out his neck, trying to dispel some of the tension as he stretches out on the couch next to his uncle.

“What do I do?” Eddie asks, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice. “How am I supposed to refute every goddamn lie she tells?”

“You just tell the truth,” Wayne says simply. “You got nothing to hide. Everyone knows you’re better for the boys, all you gotta do is let the judge see it, too.”

“How the hell did you go through this for me?” Eddie rubs his hands over his face and lets out a long sigh.

“Yeah, well, at least Al had the decency not to fight me tooth and nail.”

Eddie chuckles. “At eleven, I never thought I’d be happy about that. But thank God.”

“I know what ya need.” Wayne smacks Eddie’s thigh before pushing himself up and walking into the small kitchen.

“Oh, Wayne, no beer,” Eddie says. “Don’t wanna touch the shit at all, now.”

“I’m not getting you beer, ya dingbat,” Wayne teases, making Eddie smile. 

The older man grabs two mugs off the wall–an old army one and Eddie’s favorite Garfield one. Wayne pulls a glass bottle of YooHoo out of the fridge and pops open the lid. Eddie laughs as he gets up and goes to join his uncle near the refrigerator. 

“Your favorite as a kid,” Wayne says as he pours half the bottle into each mug.

“Luke’s favorite now,” Eddie adds.

“What, you think I have this here for me?” Wayne asks as he tosses the empty bottle into the trash. 

“Eh, you’re a kid at heart,” Eddie says, picking up the orange cat mug. 

“Here’s to the best outcome we could hope for,” Wayne says as he raises his cup. 

“Brittany getting eaten by the Loch Ness Monster?” 

Wayne snorts a laugh and shakes his head. 

“Sounds good to me. Hopefully the judge can sentence her to that.”

“Here’s hoping.”

Eddie clinks his mug against his uncle’s and they both down the chocolate milk. 

The pots and pans clatter together as you pull out the skillet to get started on dinner. Just as your hand reaches for the dial to turn on the burner, the front door opens. You immediately set the pan down and march right over to Eddie. Without saying a word, you wrap your arms around his middle and pull him into a hug.

A small smile grows on his lips as he returns your embrace. He hums softly as he closes his eyes and rests his head against yours.

“How’d you know I needed this?” he asks quietly.

“Lucky guess,” you mumble against his shoulder. 

He pulls back, but you don’t let go of him. Your hands rest on his waist, below the blazer, as he drops his wallet and keys on the counter. His back arches and stretches as he shrugs out of the blazer and tosses it onto a barstool. 

“What did you and the munchkins get up to today?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you again.

“Y’know,” you say with a shrug. “I let them bungee jump, then skydive, and then they ate their weight in Pixy Stix.”

“I figured.” He places a kiss on your forehead.

“Daddy!” Ryan runs in the room and takes advantage of the small space between you and his father to wriggle in. But when you try to step away to let the little boy have his father all to himself, Ryan catches your hand and keeps you there with the two of them. “What happened today?”

“Just answered a bunch of questions,” Eddie tells him, reaching up to ruffle his sandy hair. 

“Did Mom go?”

“She did.” Eddie nods. “We talked with the judge and with each other. Everyone just wants to make sure you and Luke are happy.”

Ryan looks over his shoulder at you, then back to his father.

“Can I show you my letter?”

“Letter?” Eddie asks, brow furrowing.

“Ry wanted to write a letter to the judge,” you explain, resting your hands on the seven-year-old’s shoulders.

“I’d love to read it,” Eddie tells him.

The little boy slips out from between the two of you and goes to pick up the piece of paper on the kitchen table. He comes back and silently hands it to Eddie.

Dear Judge,

My name is Ryan Wayne Munson, and I am Eddie’s oldest son. I am seven years old and my brother Luke is five. I know we are young and sometimes grown-ups don’t listen to kids, but I wanted to share how I feel anyway. My daddy is the best man in the world, and he loves me and Luke more than anyone else in the world. We are always happier when we are with him than with our mom. Our mom has missed lots of things in mine and Luke’s lives. I had a Christmas concert last year and she didn’t show up at all, even though I had a solo and was very excited. But Daddy made sure I got there on time and told me how good I was and how proud he is of me. He always makes sure to tell me that. And he tells Luke, too. 

I don’t want to live at the house with my mom. I want to live at the house with my daddy, but I know he does not live there anymore. Even though I love my first room and my house, I would rather live with Daddy anywhere. I have a cool new room at his apartment and Daddy worked hard to help make it special for me. 

I am writing this letter while you are having your first meeting with my mom and dad. I had some help with spelling and punctuation, but the words are all mine. I would be scared to come to court and talk, but if it meant that I would get to live with my daddy, I would do it. I know Luke would too. I hope this letter helps you make your decision.

Love,

Ryan

Eddie can’t help but smile through his tears at the endearing “love” signoff. That’s Ryan in a nutshell; always spreading love. 

The words have restored Eddie’s exhaustion and fill his drained soul. 

Small arms wrap around Eddie and large brown eyes look up at him.

“Why are you crying, Daddy?” Ryan asks.

“Because that was a really sweet letter, Ry.”

The older brother doesn’t get a chance to respond as Luke rushes into the room and runs head-first into his dad.

“Daddy! Can we get ice cream for dinner?”

“After dinner?” Eddie suggests, arching an eyebrow.

“No,” Luke pouts, “because then I’ll be too full.”

Eddie playfully rolls his eyes as he lets out a laugh. 

“You earned yourself an extra piece of broccoli with dinner tonight, kid,” he tells his son.

Luke lets out a growl and sticks his tongue out at Eddie. Eddie sticks his tongue right back out at the five-year-old, who giggles in response.

“Oof,” Eddie grunts as he scoops Luke up and throws him over his shoulder. “What do you say we order pizza? Hmm? Have a movie night?”

“Yes!” Luke cheers.

“Can we watch Hook?” Ryan asks. 

“Sounds great,” Eddie says, rubbing his hand over Ryan’s hair. 

You watch as the three of them head towards the couch. It’s impossible not to smile as Eddie plops Luke down on the cushions and flops down next to him. The youngest Munson laughs as Eddie rolls on top of him and laughs even harder when Ryan gets on top of the pile of boys. 

Tears begin to fill your eyes as you reach for the telephone. You sniff and blink them away as you scan the fridge for the magnet with the pizzeria’s phone number on it. Hearing the three of them laugh as they roughhouse is a balm to your heart after the stress of the day. Unfortunately, this is just the beginning of the journey to keep these boys where they belong, but as long as there is laughter and love at the end of days like today, you think it won’t be so bad after all. 

[eevees-hobbies]

Hello! 1. your writing is AMAZING and 2. Sorry for this long request.

Can I request experienced!Reader x virgin!Sakura smut (or you can make it that he doesn't have that much experience as the reader). Sakura and the reader have always done things like heavy makeout sessions and him receiving bjs. He starts to feel bad because he hasn't eaten her out yet and he doesn't want to disappoint her, she always tells him to take things at his pace and that she will always be there for him when he's ready to take things further. So he asks the guys for advice on how to eat her out and then during movie date night at her place he's acting more flustered/nervous than usual and she notices. He then confesses that he wants her to feel pleasure to and that the reason why he hasn't done it yet is because he doesn't want to disappoint her but he wants to try and eat her out. You can have them go all the way after or just leave it at that. I'll be happy either way😊😊. Thank you in advance!!!

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your kind words! This was fun to write and I hope you enjoy this. I’ll always enjoy writing for Haru, so this request was very much appreciated.

Synopsis: Sakura loves the fuck out of you, so maybe that’s why he’s asking his friend, Hayato Suo, to help him get better at initiating oral sex. Totally normal things happen to an orange, but it’s all worth it in the end, right?

Content Warning:  experienced!FemReader x inexperienced!Sakura. defiling of fruit, sexual education in a public place, pray (and perform a wellness check) for Suo’s girlfriend, dirty talk, insecure Sakura, harmless teasing, use of pet name baby girl, cocky Sakura makes an appearance at the end (because I can’t help myself), I curse a lot in my writing, cunnilingus, fingering, brief p in v. I’m on my usual bullshit, but at least the writers block is gone! Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 3.1K

Story banner by me. Dividers by Firefly Graphics. As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

“The first time we held hands, I thought my head would explode.”

“I see. Go on…”

“The first time we made out, I….” Sakura looks away, a crimson blush making its way past the collar of his white tee and up his neck. “I could hear my heart beating in my ears or somethin’ cliche like that.”

Suo couldn’t help but feel the corner of his mouth twitch upward at his inexperienced friend’s confession. Still, he knew better than to poke at Sakura. He was attempting to be supportive, and supportive friends don’t tease their friends during bouts of insecurity—much. When Suo had received a text message from Sakura the night before indicating that he had an urgent request, he knew he had to temper his usual faux-cheerful demeanor and provide his friend with whatever he needed.

But he wasn’t expecting this conversation.

Sakura shifts uncomfortably in the booth across from Hayato, his eyes now darting down to his knuckles, which always seem permanently purple and red with bruises and fresh knicks. “And the first time she….you know…”

Suo’s eyebrow quirks up, expecting Sakura to elaborate further, but he doesn’t. To prompt Sakura to continue, Suo clears his throat and carefully navigates the next sentence, “I don’t really know what you mean, Sakura. Care to be a bit more specific?”

Sakura lets out a frustrated scoff, but he knows that if he wants Suo to help him, he’s going to need to give him details—details that he had fully intended to always go to the grave with.

“The first time she gave me head…”

The cup of tea that Suo was bringing up to his lips shakes ever so slightly, but he offers a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and provides a supportive nod. 

“Oh?”

Sakura sighs, figuring it’s too late to hold back now; he dives into the issue, ready to be judged at best, and laughed out of the restaurant at worst. “The first time she gave me head, I swear to fuckin’ god, if there is a god, I fell in love. But she’s always….doing stuff to me, and I haven’t done much for her.”

Suo nods, places his cup of tea down, and looks thoughtfully at his friend. “Sounds like you’d like to return her…kind gestures.”

Sakura runs a hand through his hair and nods, “Yeah, that’s it. I want to do stuff to her instead of her doing stuff to me, but I don’t know how to-”

“Initiate?”

“Sure.”

The silence that settles between the two is deafening. Sakura shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and Suo can’t help but look at his friend with sympathetic eyes. Usually, he’s the first one to tease Sakura, especially involving his relationship with you, but this feels different. Suo’s eyes wandered to an orange currently serving as a garnish on the small plate of untouched Omi Rice Sakura had ordered. “May I?’

Sakura shrugs, unsure what he plans to do with a piece of fruit. Doesn’t he see that he’s in crisis and Vitamin C can wait?

Suo grabs a knife and cuts the citrus down the middle, exposing the soft center. Discarding one half, he holds up the other to curious, dual-colored eyes. “Do we need to go over the basics of female anatomy? Like the labia and clitoris?”

Sakura sputters as he hears his friend say words he’s only heard you—his girlfriend—say. His eyes dart to the nearest escape route, but Suo's firm kick under the table brings his attention back to the scene in front of him. Sakura looks away in frustration and gives a curt nod, indicating that, at the very least, he could point to certain parts of your body and identify them.

He wasn’t THAT far gone. 

Suo nods, “Well, I’d say the battle is half-won, then. Let’s talk about what women like, shall we?”

Suo brings a finger up to the center of the orange where the small opening glistens with droplets of juice that are now dripping languidly down his fingers. The scene before Sakura is practically obscene, and the irony of Suo using fruit for his sexual education lesson that looks similar to your intimate area does not fly over his head, even though he wishes it did. 

As Suo points to the plump center, his finger gently strokes the small hole. “Some people immediately think it’s a good idea to force their fingers in with little thought to foreplay, but that’s crude, hostile, and not the trait of a good partner. In fact, bullying your fingers in could very well hurt her, so I personally like to take a few hours to get my girlfriend aroused.”

Hours?! Sakura doesn’t think he can come near being the type of libido-beast that Suo is. He briefly gives a silent prayer for his friend's partner but leans in nonetheless to listen intently.

“Now, the tip of your tongue can be rather overstimulating at first, so remember that the clitoris deserves to be kissed, too. Your lips are your ally.”

Sakura swallows thickly as he tunes in and watches his friend defile an orange in Cafe Pothos. As his cheeks burn, his fingers twitch, and his cock hardens as Suo goes into great detail about how much pressure the clitoris can take. Sakura can’t help but think that he must be absolutely, horrendously down bad for you to deal with this shit.

“I can’t BELIEVE she was Lady Whistledown this entire time!” 

You reach for the remote to select the next episode of Bridgerton, but a lack of response from Sakura, who is sitting on the couch next to you, causes you to look over. You can sense that what you just said didn’t register because he seems lost in thought, his thumb placed between his upper and lower canines as he chews on the skin aggressively.

“Kitten?” You turn your entire body to face him, worry already etching across your face. 

His eyes look up at you, and the faraway look quickly dissipates as he gives you a grunt.

“You’ve been distracted all night. Should we head to bed, or can we talk about it?” You offer him a gentle smile, hoping the bond you share will be stronger than any secret he may be keeping from you. You watch as he visibly swallows, his adam’s able bobbing as he turns to you, and he lowers his now mangled thumb to rest in his lap. The way he avoids eye contact, the way the air now feels somewhat stale with unspoken words, has your breathing slowing and you preparing to hear the worst. 

“Let me…eat you out.”

You blink once, twice, and then several more times as you stare at each other. You place a gentle hand on his knee, and your confused eyes meet his vulnerable ones. “Sakura, what the absolute fuck?”

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. You can see a pout practically form on his lips as he fights the urge to end the conversation. But Sakura is a man on a mission, and he continues. You have to lean in to hear what he mumbles but as his mouth moves, you realize you heard him clearly the first time. “You give me head almost every day. I’m tired of not reciprocating.”

Everyday, Sakura? Let’s be real. Sure, you like giving your boyfriend head but your jaw isn’t permanently attached to his cock. You give him a blank stare before responding and trying to keep your voice light and without a hint of sarcasm–and god, you REALLY want to be sarcastic right now but you’re a good girlfriend.

“Sakura, our relationship isnt about keeping score, especially in regards to our intimacy. I don’t count how many blowjobs I give you,” you pause as you realize you just spoke a lie. “Well, maybe I do count, but only because I have an ego, and I’m trying to beat a number I set in my head.”

Sakura’s eyes squint and he holds back the urge to ask further questions about your perverted personal goals. “That’s so weird. Anyway, it isn’t about any of that. I want to do it. I think about doing it a lot.”

You tilt your head to the side, your ear facing him a bit more because did your boyfriend, the one who was emotionally stunted when you met him, admit to fantasizing about you? “You think about eating me out? Say more, please.”

“Fuuuuuck, why are you so-. Fine! I think about it when you’re on the couch with your legs spread–I mean, sure, it isn’t lady-like–but it’s hot and I think about just getting on my knees and…”

“I might pop you for the lady-like comment but I’ll refrain because you made me tingle.”

“Shut up and…spread your legs.”

You purse your lips, stifling a giddy giggle at your boyfriend using his stern voice. You shimmy out of your sleep shorts and throw them haphazardly to a corner to be forgotten about until who-knows-when. 

Putting on a brave front, and as though he’s done this many times before, Sakura rises from the couch and perches himself between your legs with his knees firmly placed on the plush rug on the floor.

You bite your lip—his gaze is unyielding and smoldering. You aren’t surprised at how hot your face is getting under his stare; it’s almost enough to make you clamp your legs shut and call the whole thing off, but you couldn’t if you wanted to as his hands, which are placed firmly against your inner thighs, grip you like you’re being held open in stirrups. 

“It's nothing like an orange…”

“A what!?”

Before you can say anything and before you can back out, Sakura is leaning forward, his breath is hot and fanning against your labia. For some reason, you need to look anywhere but at the top of his head as his tongue slips past your folds and swirls small circles around your clit. His hesitancy is palpable, making you a bit insecure until he pulls back, an earnest but determined look in his eyes, “Am I doing ok? Does this feel…right? I’m trying to imagine an orange, but it’s completely different.”

Weird recurring comments about oranges aside, you realize he’s not hesitant because of you. He’s hesitant because he’s worried that he isn’t doing a good job. He’s hesitant because, above all else, Haruka will always desire to impress and please you, and anything less is unacceptable to him. His inexperience has always been a non-issue for you, but to him, it’s a crutch and another way he feels like he doesn’t deserve you. 

Your gaze softens and you give him an encouraging smile. “You’re doing amazing, Kitten.”

The corner of his mouth twitches upward and with a dignified nod, he dives back between your thighs. Your praise fuels his desire to please you—and that fire burns bright, and the cautious licks before are replaced with suckles and tongue swipes that are far more confident. 

Your head falls back to rest against the cushiony headrest of the couch. Your hand finds the back of his head and pushes him in further, encouraging him to get lost in you and risk drowning. Sakura doesn’t mind the threat of suffocation as he considers it a worthy way to go. Still, he thinks you’re getting a little too cocky, and humbling you is his favorite pastime, so the gesture earns a playful nip to your thigh from Haruka, which in turn makes you giggle.

“Can’t you be serious for once? I’m trying to eat you out down here.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Kitten.” Despite your snarky come-back, you give him an encouraging moan that’s brought upon by open-mouthed kisses against your clit. Sakura willingly entwines his long fingers with yours, his thumb tenderly stroking the inside of your palm.

His other hands grips the plush of one of your thighs and pushes them forward, pressing them against your stomach and allowing himself the unbridled access he craves to get as deep as his tongue will reach. His licks become far more aggressive as he takes the time to map out your cunt through eager exploration. He commits every one of your sinful moans and gasps to his memory and revels in the way in which you get increasingly louder for him. 

Each one of your cries makes his cock twitch, and he finds himself having to adjust himself in his jeans. The scent of you, the sound of you, is simply intoxicating. You, to Haruka Sakura, are everything and then some. Your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s going to take that fact out on your cunt which is growing increasingly more sloppy just for him. 

Something that felt intimidating only hours ago now feels natural to Sakura as he drags his tongue across your clit, smirking as he feels it swell and twitch under the assault of his muscle. 

“You’re dripping for me. We might need a new couch after I’m done with you.” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes because fuck, why is he so-oh! Yeah, that’s the spot. You nod in agreement as you spread your legs wider to give him better access. “Y-yeah, a trip to IKEA is definitely in the future, I think.” Without little to no warning, he pushes two fingers into you so deeply that his knuckles kiss your entrance. Haruka’s fingers curl, and the sound of him twisting them inside you makes a lewd, wet sound, the kind that would make anyone blush. 

The pads of his fingers rub against the bundle of nerves deep within your aching sex. Sakura lets out a satisfied grunt as he strokes the spongy bundle of ridges. He doesn’t need an orange to see that this is what you like, all he needs to do is look down at the way your toes curl or watch as your eyes roll back and you bite into the plush of your bottom lip.

“Holy fuckin’…just relax for me. Don’t act like we haven’t been here before, at least.”

You let out a pathetic whimper, the sensation of being filled up almost threatening to push you over the edge, and he fucking knows it. He’s doing this on purpose, stroking you like this, making you more sensitive than you already are as you drip into the palm of his hand.

You look down to give him a glare, but you can’t help the squeak that leaves your lips—his intense gaze is set on you and threatening to light you ablaze. He stands up so that he’s kneeling over you, his face mere inches from yours, as he continues to push and pull his fingers in and out of your fluttering sex. 

“Look at you….a fuckin’ mess. Look me in my eyes while you use my fingers to get off.” His eyes are scanning your face in predatory reverence, they flicker down to your lips as you let out a low guttural moan. “That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me.”

Your heart palpitates dangerously as he uses a pet name that feels so intimate you want to melt into the couch. Your bottom lip quivers as you begin to buck your hips to meet the motion of his fingers, but it’s hard to keep up when he’s finger fucking you like he owns every inch of your cunt.

“Tch, what are you trying to prove by holding out?” His lips ghost against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, his tongue darting out to lick and suckle at the sensitive flesh. 

“You’re practically milking my fingers right now. You like every single inch that I give you, don’t you? You get so hungry for just a touch.” His voice is husky, his words only making you ache and arch more as the cocky, ex-Bofurin leader goads you on.

His mouth finds its way to the curve of your neck as he presses his lips against your quickened pulse. The proximity and gesture feels tender until you feel his teeth sinking into your skin, sending a delicious, searing pain shooting through your very being. “Cum like a good girl so I can bend you over this fuckin’ couch.” His voice is hoarse and coursing with his desire for you, and he’s not asking you to let go for him, he’s demanding it.

Your face, despite being contorted into pleasure, heats up because who the fuck talks like that? 

Haruka Sakura does. 

You groan, pressing the palm of your hand against the nape of his neck and pull him forward so you can give him the physical and verbal praise he seeks–your moans fill his mouth and your hips grind against his hand to roll out your orgasm in desperation. He eagerly presses his palm against your clit, adding more pressure to the sensitive bud that takes your breath away as he continues his curling, pushing, and pulling of his fingers.

You let out a final moan into his mouth and the smirk that forms on his lips as they press against yours does not go unnoticed. You haven’t realized it, or maybe you have, but at that moment, you created a monster. He now knows you better than he ever did and will use it against you every chance he can. He may be unable to commit to hours of foreplay, but he can guarantee that every second in which he’ll have you spread open for him will have you looking at him exactly as you’re looking at him right now. He’s committed to your pleasure moving forward and makes absolutely no apologies for it. 

“Theeeeere she goes. Now was that so hard?” Your half-lidded gaze meets his arrogant and pleased one as he pulls away, his hands already moving to unbutton his jeans. “Guess I’ll start to keep a number in my head to beat now, too.” 

You don’t have time to react before he’s turning you around and positioning so that you're offering yourself up to him and he’s adjusting himself between your spread legs.

And Sakura is truly pleased with himself as he places a hand on your lower back to steady you as he slides into your welcoming warmth. His eyes roll back because you fit him sooooo fucking well. Like a goddamn glove, and fuck, you feel even better with his saliva dripping out of you. 

Who the fuck needs store-bought lubricant when you could just produce your own with spit? Moving forward, Sakura fully intends to put Astroglide out of business. 

As the loud squelches and airy sounds of his cock spreading you in half fills the air, Sakura reflects on how he got here. 

He can’t help but give a mental thanks to the orange that made this all possible–and he guesses, also Suo, but mostly the orange.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Hello! I saw ur request is opening so hope u don’t mind this^^

So! I’ve been thinking of the trope “he falls inlove to late” with the demon bros (OG! Timeline) a whole lot lately because it’s just that fitting for all of them and sometimes the heartache is just too good

And that’s it! I’m excited for what you could come up with.

Thank you <3

COMMENTS: Hi. There are a lot of tropes that I don't know well, so I did a little research with Bard's help first. 😅 I couldn't see this happening easily because some characters would confess immediately (Asmo). So I used a cursed book where they enter and forget that they had already confessed.

I enjoyed writing this, I thought the idea was interesting. I hope you and everyone likes it too. 📖🚂

CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration

WORD COUNT: An average of 430 words per character.

CONTEXT: Diavolo asked you and one of the demon brothers if you could go get some books that had just arrived for the RAD library. Unfortunately, one of the books was cursed, and you two were transported inside.

Your memories didn't seem to have changed much. But in his case, he completely forgot all the love declarations he ever made to you. In his mind, he never declared himself to you. And, apparently, you were at the train station with Solomon, about to leave for the human world, never to return.

You won't hear anything from him until the last second. He will be there, right in front of one of the train entrances. Waiting for you. Somehow. Probably not even the book itself knows how he arrived at the station so quickly.

He walks steadily towards you. “You're late.” Lucifer says “I need to talk to you before you go.”

“But like you said, we're late.” Solomon says “We need go on the train.”

“I spoke to the train driver. It won't take long if you stop interrupting me and let me talk to (Y/N) alone.” Lucifer emanated that aura that not even Diavolo himself would dare to contradict.

Solomon took a few steps back and let Lucifer take you to a more secluded corner.

“Since the chances of you returning to Devildom are slim, there is something extremely important that I need to tell you in person before you leave. And it's something simple and difficult to misunderstand.” He looks you in the eyes with the greatest confidence and certainty of all three worlds. “I love you. And I know that whatever you feel for me is strong too. I'm not the type to fall in love for someone who wouldn't see me in a similar light that I see them. I hope you realize how special and important you are to me to the point where I tell you this sentence looking you in the eyes. And I will reiterate it: I love you, (Y/N).”

“That's what I wanted to tell you.” Lucifer continues “Regardless of what you do with this information, I didn't want you to leave without it. And I trust you with it. Regardless of how you feel about me, I am not ashamed or regret loving someone like you. You deserved it.” he crosses his arms “Now you have two choices, accept it,say goodbye and get on the train, or tell me how you feel about me back.”

If you choose the second option, you realize that there are no words better than an action. And you kiss his lips. You will feel his hands on your waist. and his kiss is controlled, as if he were treating you, And like saying that if you want more, you should stay.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

You didn’t receive messages from Mammon. And if you tried to send him one, he wouldn't receive it.

“Maybe his D.D.D. is dead?” Solomon suggested. “Don't worry. I'm sure he wouldn't ignore your messages on purpose.”

You two get on the train and sit in your seats. Calmly, the other passengers enter, sit down and eventually the train closes the doors and starts to move. Solomon offered to buy your favourite snack to try to cheer you up a little, and then you started to hear screams of fright and surprise throughout the train. You look around, the other passengers are looking out the windows. And then you heard a knock on your window.

Mammon was upside down, in his demon form, wanting to get in while the train was moving and moving faster and faster. He was using all the strength he had to not let go of the train. After also being startled by that sudden vision, Solomon used magic to transport Mammon inside the train.

Mammon lay down on the floor, exhausted from all the effort it took to get there. He could barely speak because his priority was breathing. “I couldn't... *breathe* ...message... *breathe* ...D.D.D... *breathe* ...dead...”

“Ha ha ha. I told you so.” Solomon says.

Mammon needs time to catch his breath, but as soon as he feels able, he gets on his knees in front of you. He still doesn't have that much strength to stand up. “Ya dummy! I needed to tell ya somethin’ very important before you left!”

You ask what he wanted to tell you and he blushes very hard, especially knowing that the other passengers are looking at the two of you. “HEY! Conversation is private! Go mind your own damn business!” Passengers move away slowly, returning to their seats with caution.

“You know, you might need to be quick.” Solomon tells him “It might not be long before someone kicks you off the train with all this commuting.”

“I...” Mammon hesitated and the train conductor began to be heard approaching quickly. “AH! NO!” The conductor arrives, grabs Mammon by the coat, pulls him to his feet, and pins his arms behind his back. “NO! WAIT!” he looks at you “I LOVE YOU! AND I'M SORRY I DIDN'T SAY IT SOONER! I LOVE YOU! PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME!”

This is your chance to kiss him before you part once and for all. And if you do, and kiss his lips, he will find enough strength to let go of the reviewer, to the point of pushing him back, and grabbing you with the greatest passion he feels for you.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

You were being bombarded with messages from Levi. He wanted to know if you were already at the station, how long until the train left, if it was late, etc. There was something he wanted to tell you, but it couldn't be via text, it had to be in person. Which is surprising coming from Levi.

Unfortunately, there came a time when you couldn't wait any longer. The train was leaving and you couldn't miss it. You and Solomon entered. You sent a message to Levi to tell him that. He did not answer. When the train started to move and you still didn't see signs of him, you sent one last message saying that the train had already left.

Just a few minutes later, the train stopped abruptly, frightening all the passengers. Someone shouted something about a giant monster on the line. You start to hear noises of something above the train carriage, until it reach the door that leads outside. And then, the door is broken down and Levi enters.

He almost freezes in panic when he sees all those strangers, but as soon as he hears your voice calling his name, he forgets everything and everyone and runs to you.

“(Y/N)!” He hugs you “Please, don’t go!” only to realize in the next second what he just did and break the hug with a completely red face. “I-I-I... I needed to tell you, No, I had to tell you, before you go, this feelings cannot be let unspoken.”

“That you don't want me to leave?” you ask.

“No. I mean, that to, but...” You all hear and see the train conductor approaching to, probably, catch Levi and throw him out. “I-I LOVE YOU!” Levi says like someone ripping off a bandage, knowing it's his last chance, and putting all his shyness aside. “You are my best friend and the person I admire and love most. I don't want you to go because I want to stay by your side forever. But if you really have to go and never be able to come back...” the train conductor grabs Levi's arms and holds his hands behind his back. “Urg!... please... don't forget me, ok?”

If you kiss his lips, you will feel him reciprocate with the greatest of passions. And if the conductor tries to pull him and separate your kiss, Levi will grab him with his tail and secure him.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

You received some messages from Satan asking if you were already at the train station and what time were you going to leave. You respond to him, but after that you don't know anything from him again.

You get on the train and sit in your seat. Satan didn't show up. Until the train left at least. Solomon notices that you are a little sad and tries to cheer you up. But then, just a couple of minutes later, the train stopped. Through the speakers, you hear the train driver's trembling voice asking YOU to please go to the driver's cab. Solomon goes with you, because the train driver's voice sounds scared and he wants to protect you in case it's a trap.

When you arrive, the train drivers are scared in the corner, yes, but that's because in front of them there is Satan in his demon form and in a very bad mood. Until the moment he sees you, and his eyes shine. When he sees Solomon, he gets a little grumpy again.

Fortunately, Solomon gets the hint and leaves you in the driver's cabin while he goes to another cabin. Satan tells the train drivers to leave too because he wants to speak to you in private.

“B-but, we are t-the train drivers. T-this is our c-cabin. Y-you shouldn’t-”

“Is the train moving right now?” Satan asks. The drivers say no with their heads. “So you are not needed here!”

The drivers get up and leave, closing the door behind you and leaving you and Satan alone. And suddenly, all his anger disappeared, being replaced by a light blush.

“(Y/N), I have something very important to tell you and I couldn't let you leave without you knowing it. I should have told you this before, but I don't know why I didn't. I think I was scared. That if it wasn't reciprocated I could get angry. But now it doesn't matter. I can't get mad at you anyway. So I just want you to know that you are very special to me. I love you and I always will. Wherever you go, I wanted you to know this. Of course, what I want most is for you to stay here with me, but if you really have to leave, know that you will always have my love. I will never forget you, so please do the same for me.”

This is your chance to show him that you love him too with a kiss. And if you do that, he will reciprocate with all that boiling passion he was trying to contain.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

You were being bombarded with, not only messages, but a lot of missed calls from Asmo. You and Solomon were rushing to catch the train and that's why you weren't able to answer his calls.

As soon as you managed to get on the train and sit in your seats, the train leaves. You pick up your D.D.D. and try to call Asmo back. But all calls go to voice-mail. However, Solomon's D.D.D. starts ringing and when he looks, it says that is Asmo who’s calling him.

“Aw, and I thought you wanted to say goodbye to me with a thoughtful call.” Solomon says after answering the call. “What? Why?” Asmo responds, but you don't understand what he says. “Yeah, that's really cute of you but I'm sorry, I don't believe that.”

And then you hear Asmo's voice loudly coming from his D.D.D. “JUST SUMMON ME THERE THIS INSTANT!”

Solomon jumped at the yell he received in his ear. “Fine, fine. But you'll owe me one after this, ok?” He gets up and summons Asmo, who appears in his demon form.

The moment Asmo sees you, he hugs you, almost crying. “(Y/N)!!! Please do not leave me! I love you so so so much! *sob* I don't know what came over me that I never said this to you before. I wanted to say goodbye to you so much! *sob* I wanted to show you all my love but I couldn't get to the station in time. *sob*”

The train conductor appears and heads towards Asmo. He holds him by the shoulders and breaks your hug. He says Asmo has to leave because he's not a passenger. Asmo looks at him in the eyes and you realize he's using that special power of his.

“Aw, but I just want to say goodbye to the love of my life. They’re leaving and I couldn't even tell them in time how much I love them. You're not insensitive, are you? I’m sure you understand and will let me stay here as long as necessary. Right~?”

The conductor let go of him. “My apologies. I understand perfectly. You can stay as long as you need.” Turns around and leaves.

Asmo focuses all his attention on you again. “Are you sure you can't stay? Here with me~ I will love you every day at all times. I need you. *sob* I need you so much. *sob*” Tears begin to slowly flow down his face. “Please, don’t forget me. Promise?”

This is your cue to kiss him. If you do so, you will surprise him. And then you'll feel his arms desperately around you, and a passionate kiss from someone who is already good at kissing.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

You received a message from Beel asking where you were. After telling him that you were at the train station, he asked how much time he still had to get to you before you left. Just 3 minutes. After that he stopped messaging you.

You boarded the train with Solomon and you took your seats. The train left and you didn't get to see Beel. Solomon noticed that you were sad about not saying goodbye to him and he tried to cheer you up a little by buying your favourite snack.

A few seconds later the passengers start to get agitated because something is happening outside the train. Over the speaker, a voice asks the passengers to remain calm. They know someone or something is on top of the train but they will sort it out.

At that moment, the door of the carriage you are in is broken down. And Beel gets in, walking directly towards you, ignoring all the other passengers.

“I knew it was you.” Beel says with that cute smile of his. “He says with that cute smile of his.” He looks at the snack Solomon bought you, and his smile starts to fade. “I don't think I'll be able to eat it again after you leave. It will remind me too much of you. And I'll be sad that I can't be with you. So I wanted to tell you-”

“THERE!” one of the three train conductors shouts, and all of them run straight towards Beel to catch him.

“I don't want to hurt anyone.” He says “But more than that I don't want to leave without saying goodbye to (Y/N).” He fights the three conductors, knocking them all out.

Then he turns back to you. “Sorry, I'm making a big mess.” Beel says, already regretting it, but knowing he had no other alternative. “But I can't let you leave without knowing one thing. You're very important to me. As special as my brothers. It hurts so much to see you go, but I need you to know that I love you. Whenever I eat something good, I will think of you and how much I would like to share that meal with you. Take good care of yourself, okay?”

This is your chance to kiss him. If you do, you will feel his strong arms around you, as if protecting and guarding you like his treasure.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

Solomon notices that you are sad about not receiving messages from Belphegor. “I'm sure he really wanted to say goodbye to you.” He tells you “But, you know him, maybe he took a nap and didn't pay attention to the time.”

Eventually, you both boarded the train and sat in your seats. You didn't have any sign of Belphie until the train left. Solomon tries to cheer you up a little. He can't stand there seeing you sad.

But suddenly the train starts to slow down until it stops completely. Through the speakers you hear someone informing the passengers that there has been an unforeseen event and that the train has to turn back. You see the drivers passing you to get to the cabin on the other side of the train. They looked worried.

The train returns to the station and the doors are opened for anyone who wants to get off or on. And it is at that moment that Belphie enters, calmly, as if it were just another passenger. He stops next to you.

“(Y/N)~ You were leaving without saying goodbye to me. That's mean, you know.”

“Belphegor!” Solomon exclaims. “What happened? Why are you here?”

“I'm here because I wanted to say a proper goodbye to (Y/N). As for what's going on, why don't you go see? I would really like to speak alone with (Y/N).” He had that sly, slightly menacing smile on his face.

Solomon gets the hint and says he'll be right back before leaving the carriage.

“Sorry, I let myself fall asleep.” Belphie explains with an apologetic look. “I was dreaming about you. I dreamed that you had stayed, that you weren't leaving. So, to be honest, I didn't want to wake up. But then, you in my dream told me that I still had time, that I could still try to make that dream come true. That's why I woke up and came here. I don't want you to go, I want you to stay here with me. I love you. Are you sure you really can't stay? For me? For us? You also looked very happy in the dream, by the way.”

This is your chance to kiss him. If you do, you will feel a reciprocal tender kiss, and his arms lazily around you as if preparing to cuddle you until you both fall asleep in each other's arms.

After that, the curse will be broken and you two will return to the real world.

If you want to know what book that was: It was the story of a man who, for never confessed his feelings to the woman he loved, regretted it for the rest of his life. Especially after discovering that she also loved him after she passed away.

The first couple to enter the book and confess their love for each other would break the curse and the souls of the never-lovers in life could rest in peace together.

And they... died?... happily ever after... I guess...

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[kingdumkum]

WHERE THE RIVER MEETS THE SEA

this has been a long, long time coming. hopefully it’ll live up to the obscenely high expectations i’ve set. agree or disagree, please reblog/comment/send an anon with your thoughts--but make sure you read the RULES of interaction first.

summary: your date stood you up… again. Don’t worry, though, Baji will be there to pick up the pieces, like he always is. The only question… what will you do when you find out his secret? wc: 15k (we don't talk about it)

cw: virgin fem afab!reader x virgin!Baji, a lil itty bitty baby bit of blood, somewhat public (initially), bc why not, marking, creampie, Confessions galore, somewhat gendered pet names (princess, babe, sweetheart), actually gendered pet names (one handful of "good girl," "pretty girl," and "my girl"), subtle yandere themes but not to the extent a DC label is needed—correct me if I’m wrong though—be nice if I missed something, this is my first time :) way too many words but c’est la vie such is the way.

dedication: Storm, my friend, your support and advice has made me a better writer. Without you, this would probably still be sitting in my drafts, collecting dust and every hateful thought I’ve ever had about my writing. Thank you for being you and all of your aid in getting this to where it is. 💛

Your coffee’s cold when you give up. Well—second coffee, to be precise; the first you’d ordered after Tadashi said he was a few minutes away. That one had grown cold too, but the barista, taking pity, had given you a piping hot refill—for free.

It feels like an insult when she offers you a third.

An hour and a half has passed since Tadashi said he’d be there, and… well, you were still kinda hoping he might show up. But when the manager approaches with a tight-lipped smile, not-so-kindly pointing at their hours plastered ever so neatly on the glass door and indicating they’re just a few minutes to closing, your hope ebbs entirely.

The heat in your cheeks could’ve rewarmed your cup—but not one to cause a scene, you offer a tight-lip smile of your own and apologize. You don’t explain that you were waiting for someone; the pitying look in the barista’s eye as she mouths sorry and slides the unwanted third cup your way says they know.

You slip into the bathroom, wondering how in the world you could be so stupid— again. This was your third first date in three months… and the third time in three months that you’ve been stood up. 

It hurts more when you check your phone. Two new messages from Emma, asking how it’s going and if you want to grab dinner to dish; one from Draken, asking if you can bring back a vanilla frappe and a triple dark roast espresso with two pumps of caramel; one from Baji, saying he might be late to pick you up, but he’d be there, and could you get him an order of whatever you’re having?

Nothing from Tadashi.

You don’t respond, instead letting your phone rest against the mirror while you stare at your reflection and try, desperately, to convince yourself it isn’t your fault.

Everything had been going great—you thought. You thought he really liked you, that he was excited to get to know you, and that this one, this one for sure would show up. You made jokes that he found funny, you were just the right amount of flirty, and you knew—thought—hoped—the picture you’d sent of your outfit (a simple sundress that accentuated your best features and wedges that made your legs seem endless) was enticing enough that he’d want to see it in person.

But here you are. Crying in the bathroom of a cafe you’ll never be able to return to, wondering how you’re going to explain to your friends that you got stood up.

Again.

Your phone starts to buzz. With a deep breath, you wipe off your dripping mascara. You force yourself to smile at the hollow reflection staring back at you, then answer with an overly-cheerful, “what’s up?”

“Kenny’s worried.” Baji’s familiar drawl echos, making the space seem even smaller. “I said he was being too overprotective, but—well, you know how he is. Said it’s his duty or some shit to make sure you’re okay. He tried to come down here himself, wanted to meet the guy trying to woo you—can you believe that? He actually said woo—“

“What do you want?” you interrupt. Too harsh, you realize when Baji doesn’t answer. “It’s just—I’m kinda in the middle of something, you know?” 

Baji takes a moment, then forces a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, the little princess’s got a date, we know. God, they wouldn’t let it go. You should be thanking me, ya know, I’m the only reason they’re not all crashing—”

“Baji.”

The line falls quiet. Then, softly, “where are you, y/n?”

You frown and start searching for your mascara. “At the coffee shop. Why, where are you?”

Another pause. This one heavier. With the phone tucked to one ear, you slowly swipe the wand over your lashes. It’s clumpier than you usually like, but it’s better than nothing—

“I’m outside.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoes. You mouth another fuck, heart plummeting, then start reapplying your mascara. More carefully, now that you’re out of time. “I, uh—I’ve been here. A while.”

“Oh… yeah?” you question, teeth starting to grind. “How long’s a while?”

Baji clears his throat. “Long enough. You gonna come out, or are ya gonna make me come in?”

Mascara gets tossed in your purse, gloss comes out. “You’re not exactly welcome in the ladies room, Baji.”

You can picture the dangerous curl in his smile when he replies, “not without an invitation, babe—why, you asking?”

Your laugh isn’t completely real, but not unnatural, either. You hover the gloss over your lips, and for a moment, you imagine what it’d be like. To sneak someone into the bathroom, kissing until your lips start to bruise, his hands playing with the hem of your dress, his lips marking your skin, his voice whispering your name…

You shake the thought away. There’s no point in getting your heart broken twice in one day.

“Three’s a bit of a crowd for a single stall,” you deflect. “Be out in a minute.”

Baji hums. Your gloss feels too thick, but you don’t take it off. You fluff your hair again, placing it the way you like, turning your necklace so the clasp faces the right way, lips smacking together once, twice, three times—

By the time you run out of things to do, you think you’re ready. You pick up your purse and give yourself a final once-over. Pretty, you think. Doesn’t look like you spent the last seven minutes sobbing in a public restroom.

When you exit, Baji’s still on the line, but he doesn’t hang up. You know, because the teasing, “well shit, babe, if I had known you’d worn that, I would’ve come two hours ago,” echoes; once from your phone, and the other from the man himself, standing right in front of you.

You laugh, and this one isn’t forced at all.

Baji’s smile gleams in the evening sun. A low wolf-whistle causes your face to warm pleasantly—the way it should have, when you met Tadashi. You take Baji’s extended hand, not flinching when his callouses rub against your soft palms. 

You’re used to their roughness. Much like the others, Baji’s always been a hands-on friend (and fighter), so over the years, you’ve gotten used to the various bumps, cuts, and jagged edges, to the extent that the only hands that’ve ever felt comfortable have been those rough ones, soft only for you. 

Baji spins you, over-exaggerating the way he checks you out. “Sweetheart, you’re going to stop traffic looking like that.”

“Oh, please,” you deny, but your smile hasn’t been this genuine all day. “Laying it on a little thick, Baj.”

“Only the realest truth for the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” is his sly reply, accompanied by a slyer wink. It’s his usual charm, but you’re oblivious to his sincerity, the way you always are. Baji pulls you into a tight hug and closes his eyes, and for a moment, he allows himself to pretend this was your intention all along; to wind up in his arms, with his compliments, by his side—the way it always seems to go after every failed date.

But you never say as much, and you always seem so genuinely excited for the next one that he’s never going to ask. Instead, he’ll take these moments. The ones where you turn to him for comfort, where he gets to hold you, your knight-in-shining-armor, and do all that he can to make everything better.

He’s so close that you almost miss his muffled whisper of, “fucking—stupid bastard. Doesn’t know what he’s missed.”

Your smile slips. Your thumb rubs against the back of his knuckles, familiarly cracked with scabs that never seem to heal. These are fresh, though; you can tell by how his hand darts to the back of his neck, preventing you from looking too closely. 

“Been up to no good?” you question with a raised brow.

“‘Course I have,” he responds easily, “you’ve been busy.”

Baji won’t meet your gaze. ‘If only you knew,’ he thinks—but he’ll never say it. Not that. Not to you. He shrugs off his black leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, fingertips lingering as he straightens the collar. His dark eyes flick to yours, a coy smirk almost hiding his guilt as he hopes beyond all hope you don’t see through him.

You almost do.

Not enough to call him out on it, though, so instead, you roll your eyes—but you can’t deny how this—him—is making everything better. He picks up the helmet he only brings when he’s driving you and puts it on for you, visor up so he can brush the hair out of your eyes. Baji offers a comforting smile, then juts his chin to his bike. “Wanna ride?”

The answer, of course, is yes; for him, it will always be yes.

Silently, you climb on and wrap your hands around him, chin tucking into his shoulder as if you were made to be there. He revs and pulls off, seamlessly weaving in and out of traffic. Your eyes close. The wind whips in your hair, and the familiar scent of nicotine, mint, and Baji’s crisp aftershave envelopes you. For a moment, you feel like everything’ll be okay. Your heart might hurt now, but after an evening with him, it’ll all be okay.

That’s the power of Keisuke Baji, though; the sense of embarking on your greatest adventure but feeling like being home, all at once.

It’s nearly sunset when he stops. Pulls up to the river, kicks the bike stand, then grabs your waist to lift you off the seat.

“I can do that,” you say, even as you let him lift you.

“More fun when I do,” he replies with an easy grin. Your feet hit the ground, but Baji keeps one hand around your waist. He takes off the helmet with the other and laughs when your hair flops out. Hurriedly you go to smooth it, but Baji catches your wrist after setting the helmet down. “You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

He cages you between the bike and his hips with just a few inches of space—and suddenly, your heart starts to race. When did he get this close? How hadn’t you noticed the way his leg slid between yours? Why isn’t he taking his hand away? Why can’t you breathe?

Baji’s dark eyes dart between yours, then down to your lips, and for a second, for a split second, you think he’s about to kiss you—

“Not like anything can make it better now,” he smirks, and if it weren’t for how his fingers were locked in yours, you would’ve slapped him.

“Asshole.” 

Baji laughs, and you swear the moon shines a little brighter. You’re grateful that he turns to check out the area before he can see just how much of an impact his laugh has on you—though you don’t doubt that he knows. He’s Baji, after all, and you’re not blind (or deaf). He’s handsome, witty, flirty with anything that moves—and that laugh of his could bring even the tides to a standstill.

“Coast’s clear,” he says, looking back at you, a lazy smirk curling his features. It shouldn’t be a surprise, hardly any ever comes this far south of the city—but a few weeks ago, you’d accidentally stumbled upon a couple who were… not expecting company, to put it delicately, and ever since, Baji had been extra cautious to make sure it was just the two of you before getting settled.

He takes a few steps backwards, leading you to your spot; a grassy knoll that overlooks the river as it feeds into the darkened sea. The moon slowly rises over rolling waves while the sun, more a memory, sets over the river’s bend. It’s a secret, sacred place for the two of you, where heartache and daydreams don’t exist; only the moon, the tides, and each other.

Your stomach flips but you can’t tell why; this is exactly what happens every time you come here, from the way he helps you off the bike to how he stops you from picking at your appearance. The only difference is the way his hand is still wrapped in yours. 

You wonder if Tadashi’s would have been this warm. 

But Tadashi isn’t here—Baji is, and it’s Baji’s warm hands that always make things better. So you let him keep his hand in yours, even though you’re not sure you should, and you let him gently tug you along when you don’t move fast enough. Let him take his time in taking his jacket back, in spreading it on the grass before waiting for you to sit. You even let him settle next to you, instinctively leaning into the familiar comfort of his body and for a minute, you wonder how you ever could’ve wanted your day to end different.

Then Baji meets your gaze, smiles that sweet, genuinely kind half smile that he only shares with you, and you remember: Baji is your friend—and no matter how many heartaches he heals, that’s all he’ll ever be.

You can’t remember when things got so complicated.

When it was just you and Kenny, you’d sneak up to the roof of the brothel and watch the sun dip behind the buildings and talk about how one day, you’d get a house that was that color pink, and it’d be on the far side of Japan where you could watch the sunset from your porch and life would be good. The sunset was the only dream you’d ever need, and it would be good.

Then Mikey started coming. More often than not he’d fall asleep before the sun did, and on the days he didn’t—the roof felt too… small. The dreams, too… little. They evolved, from a porch where you could watch the sunset to a skyline that never sleeps.

Dreams change, and that’s okay… but a part of you aches for the time when the sunset felt like enough—when the family you had, the brothers you’d found and the friends you’d made—was enough. You still had the sunset, but rarely. More often than not, you were by yourself up there, or stuck to Kenny’s side somewhere out there, or brushing against Baji’s shoulder down here.

So these days, you prefer to watch the moon rise. There’s more comfort in a light to guide you through the night, rather than watching your dreams disappear with the day.

And you do, the way you do every time you’re stood up or don’t feel—enough. You sit beside Baji with the full moon crawling towards you, staring at the conjunction of the river and the sea, and focus on how you’re going to get through this.

Baji cut his hair since the last date—the last time you’d been stood up, you correct. Still long, but now only to the edge of his jaw, not mid-back like you were used to. The light is bright behind him, bringing out the warm undertones in his onyx hair. You can make out the scab on his cheek from a bar fight a few weeks ago; the scar on his nose from when Mikey split it the first time they fought; the tender bruise along his jaw that looks too new to have told you the story yet.

Instinctively, you reach for it… then chicken out, instead teasing the edge of his hair. You’re left wondering if an angel’s wings would be as soft.

Baji glances at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t like it?”

“What? I didn’t say that.” Your hand falls back to your lap, eyes quick to follow. The light behind him is too bright—too blinding. Too much like a halo. It’s impossible to hide the truth from an angel, and you know you don’t have the right words to convey just how beautiful you find him. “Just… gonna take some getting used to. I don’t think you’ve ever had it this short.”

He scoffs. “Maybe at birth.”

The idea of baby Baji flashes through your mind; sweet, chubby cheeks, little fists flailing at the world. A tuft of hair, dark as his and long already, but when he opens his eyes, they’re yours—

“Why’d you cut it?” your voice is steadier than you expect. It does nothing to change your thoughts, especially when Baji’s slender fingers start pulling at grass, just the way a baby grasps what's in front of him.

He stares straight ahead, letting one hand splay by your lower back as he watches the green blades dance in the wind. “Figured it was time for a change.”

You hmm in acknowledgement, brain too traitorous to come up with anything other than, ‘I bet you were a cute baby’ or ‘you look handsome either way’ or, worst of all, ‘why would you ever want to change?’

He probably meant nothing by it. Baji’s as flexible as they come; sets his own hours at the shop, varies what time he wakes or goes to bed, never eats the same thing too many times in a row… there’s not much permanency in his life as it is, so it sticks with you that he still wants something different.

If he thinks you’re being weird, he doesn’t say so. He waits for you to speak, like always, and like always, you find yourself loving him a little more for it. Baji’s so—quick; to judge, to speak, to fight… but in these moments, when it’s the two of you and the moon and no one else, he’s not. He’s slow; slow to speak, slow to touch, slow to pull away…

Slow to make you wonder why you keep wasting time with boys who don’t deserve it when he might be enough.

The silence becomes too much; too easy to drown in. Too tempting to fill with all the wrong things.

“What happened to your jaw?” is the best you come up with.

It’s no surprise when he answers, “got into a fight,” but how he says it… how he immediately ducks his head and covers the darkening bruise with a broad palm, as if he’d forgotten all about it and wished you would, too… that makes you pause.

One tenet of your relationship is that you don’t lie to each other. There are often times you wish he would, like when Chifuyu teases him about the pretty girl at the pet shop who came back and asked for the number of the flirty hunk who sold her a dog collar and Baji admits she was pretty cute and he’ll take her to drinks tomorrow night, or when Kazutora reminds Baji that he promised to go on a double date with the twins they met clubbing so no, he can’t take a look at that leaky pipe in your bathroom—but you’d never say that. Not when he could, so easily, call you out for keeping your own.

So when he goes out of his way to not have to tell you the truth, you know better than to push.

“Did it hurt?”

Baji looks to you with a cocky smile. “You should see the other guy.” You snort. Baji knocks his shoulder into yours. “I’m good, really. Just… had some business, s’all.”

It’s supposed to be comforting, but it’s not. It only flares your curiosity… and honestly? Your annoyance. “I hadn’t realized a pet shop needed such security.”

Baji barks out a laugh. “I mean, you’ve seen how crazy some people get about their pets, ‘specially when they think Dr. Google is a better resource than Chifuyu’s degree… but nah, this was… off the books.” He catches your inquisitive gaze and offers a smile, but it’s more like a grimace in the lowlight. His hand creeps closer, fingers pressing into your back, and for a moment, you’re willing to let it go. He gently grazes the middle of your spine. “It’s done, alright? Finished. Won’t happen again.”

You know he’s lying because he holds you close, the way he only does when he thinks you’re about to leave.

But you don’t leave; you never leave. You just give him a withering glare you know he can’t see, then turn back to the ocean.

You hate this feeling. The one where the world becomes unsteady, and everything you’d been trying to keep buried since you were thirteen sneaks up on you. That horrid, awful, destructive fascination and jealousy and yearning that’s plagued you since Baji first bragged about stealing a kiss from the pretty girl that lived three floors above him and only gets worse every time he mentions someone new.

Going on dates was supposed to squash this. Meeting a nice guy, having a good time, and getting a kiss or two of your own was supposed to end this. This—obsession—you’ve had since the first time Baji said he hopes that one day, you meet the right guy and you accidentally thought, ‘maybe it’s you.’ Because at the end of the day, he’s the one who’s there. Not Tadashi, who couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Not Draken, who recently started putting Emma above all else (even you). It’s been Baji, your Baji, whose mere existence makes everything better, that’s been the last one standing.

You can’t ruin that. You can’t risk pushing away the only companion who still puts you first for something you’re positive you can find somewhere else.

At least, that’s what you have to tell yourself, as yet another date fails and Baji is here, again, picking up the pieces and making you feel more whole than when the day started.

The sky is nearly dark when you finally ask the question that’s been on your mind since the barista gave you that pity cup—the one that’s probably still sitting in the bathroom, the last witness to your heartbreak. Just as alone and unwanted as you. 

“What’s… wrong with me?”

Baji’s sharp. He alway has been, from the stern angle of his nose to the feral way his teeth carve like a predator’s. He watches everything—the road, the fighters, you—with a scrutiny that’s often clouded behind cheshire grins and snide quips.

But there’s nothing sharp about him tonight; only soft. Soft hands that gently grab your chin and force you to look at him. Soft breathes as he pulls you close. Soft words as he makes sure you hear him whisper, “nothing.” 

Baji’s eyes, dark and teeming with something you can’t place, move from one eye to the other; to the fingers on your cheek; to your tongue, wetting your lips. He leans in, forehead resting against yours as his hand slides back, gripping your hair like you're his lifeline and not the other way around, and you’re back to thinking okay, this is it, he’s going to kiss me, he’s finally going to kiss me—

But all he does is repeat, “absolutely—fuckin’ nothing, alright? And—‘n fuck whoever makes you feel otherwise,” before resuming his seat like nothing happened.

You let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. It’s stale and hot and full of fury, your fury, and suddenly, you can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck you, Keisuke.”

“What?” Baji scrambles for your arm as you abruptly stand, too furious to even look at him. You rip away but don’t stop, trying to will the stupidness of—whatever this is—to go away, to release you so you can go back to feeling better and right and whole. “Wait—come on, I didn’t—what did I say? Did I do something? Where the hell are you going?”

“Forget it!” you snap. His every question—the fact he wants to make it right even though he’s the reason it hurts—just makes it worse. “Just—leave it alone, alright? It obviously doesn’t matter—” 

This time when he grabs your arm, he doesn’t let you leave. He pulls you in to him, nearly crashing you into his chest as he holds you in place.

“Damnit, y/n, what the hell? What did—why are you being like this?” For the first time tonight, he meets your eyes without falter. He tucks a hand under your chin, all but pries your eyes open himself to search for what you're hiding. You try shrugging out of his iron grip, but he’s too strong. “What did I do?”

“Nothing—” You’re horrified at the way your voice cracks. “Fucking—nothing, Baji, you did nothing—“

“Then why’re you so fucking mad, hunh? Why’re you acting like I’m the bad guy here?” His fingers tighten. It would’ve hurt, if you weren’t so angry. “I’m not the asshole who stood ya up—I’m not the one who’s been dickin’ everyone around, pretending like everything’s fine when I know, Draken knows—even fuckin’—Pah-chin—can tell that something’s wrong—“

“You’re calling me an asshole?” you gasp incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“Yes!” he retorts hotly—then, upon realizing how horribly angry you’re growing, quickly backtracks, “I mean—no! Actually, no, you know what, I did mean yeah, because guess what, princess? You are acting like an ass! You’ve got—all these people who wanna be here for you, I want to be here for you, and all you’re doing is getting mad at me for it—”

“What do you want me to say, Baji?” It’s useless, trying to get free, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. “That I’m—heartbroken—at being stood up—again? That I’m done with dating, that I’m giving up, that everyone fucking sucks but I must suck worse—”

“They don’t deserve you—”

“Like hell!” Your tone is scalding. It must burn him just as bad, because a single lapse in his grip lets you rip your arm away. “That’s the whole goddamn point of dating, jackass, to figure out who’s worth what—and all this has shown is that I’m not worth it, to anyone.” You slam your hands against his chest, tears stinging your lash line. If you weren’t so angry, you might not have missed how his face falters when you push him away. “And you just—sitting there, and—and holding me like that, and—and telling me that I’m not the problem when I’m the only common denominator—you’re such a fucking liar—”

“You think it’s any easier for me?” he’s quick to yell, frustration making him bare his teeth like fangs. Anyone else would’ve cowered—but you stand your ground. Place two hands on his chest and shove, hard, forcing him back as he continues, “you think it’s any easier to see you gettin’ your hopes up, to freak out over what to text, what to wear, what to do—all for those fuckin’ dickweeds? Hunh? Guys who can’t even—spell your name right, or remember what your favorite flower is, or fucking—show up? You think it’s any fucking easier seeing you so goddamn upset over someone who doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone spend time with you–be with you? Because it’s not, sweetheart!”

The sweet pet name that usually makes your heart skip a beat only aggravates you further. Your hands go from shoving to slamming, open palms against the hard muscle of his chest—but he doesn’t even flinch. Just catches your wrists before you can do it again and stares, like you’ve started speaking in tongues. “Oh, poor Baji, must be hard, hunh, thinking no one’s good enough, thinking everyone’s so lucky as to have people throwing themselves at them left and right—but newsflash, Keisuke, not all of us are like you! Not all of us have the ability to pick whoever we want, some of us actually have to work at it—“

“Stop working on the wrong guys then!”

“You’ve never even met them, how would you know—“

“Because they let me stand in the way!”

The world stills. 

You can’t place why; why this feels like a sucker punch, why your heart is suddenly skipping beats–why you can’t tell if this hurts. Not until Baji’s grip tightens, then his eyes widen, and you have a sneaking suspicion you know where this is going—but still, you ask, “what?”

He doesn’t respond. He can’t.

He lets go of you, though every fiber in his being begs him to stay. He takes a step back, though his heart pleads for him to wrap you in his arms and hold you close and tell you the truth, about what he did, why he did it, why he can’t bring himself to regret it…

He has to turn his back to you, to stare at the waves crashing along the sand as he tries to process just how badly he’s fucked this up and if there’s any possibility for redemption. It’s too late to lie. Too late to try and salvage this.

He’s made his bed; it’s time to lie in it.

Baji sighs–or something close. Something choked, not quite a laugh but also not quite a sob. Something is stuck in him, and even with the ice in your veins, you piece it together. Somehow, this—the failed dates, the heartache, the loneliness—it's all his fault.

Still, you have to ask. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You try making the venom in your voice match that in your blood, but you can’t. Not when he looks so—defeated. He runs his hands through his hair, doing a miserable job of either pretending he can’t hear you or attempting to buy enough time to come up with a plausible lie—though you don’t need him to. Not when his actions say enough.

It’s your turn to reach for him. Your turn to grab his arm, to keep him in place. You want to hold on to your anger, but the way his hands are shaking makes it impossible.

You draw him close, voice gentle as you say his name. You reach for his cheek, keeping his hands still with one of yours, and you tilt his head; he lets you tilt his head so that he has no choice but to look at you. 

When your gazes meet, you wait.

“I had to,” he eventually says. His voice is steady, but his hands aren’t. His fingers wrap around your wrists tightly, as if he’s afraid you might try leaving—but your grip on him is equally tight. “They weren’t good for you. They were jerks, and they were only going to break your heart, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. I had to—I had to.”

“Had to… what?” He doesn’t answer, not until you prompt, “had to what, Baji?”

“Don’t—” he breathes. “Don’t… call me that.” His eyes close, and he leans into the palm on his cheek. For a moment, you pretend that he’s memorizing the feel of you, as if he’s scared to lose you—but that can’t be it. Keisuke Baji isn’t afraid of anything.

You’re not sure what’s more painful: the knots in your stomach or the hope in your heart. “Tell me what you did,” you muster up. “Keisuke, tell me what you did.”

When his eyes finally open, all of his anger is gone. In its place is something you’ve rarely seen, and even rarer directed at you: desperation.

“I stopped them.”

For a moment, all you hear is your own heart… then the waves of truth come crashing down.

“I—I found them, and I swear on my life, on your life—I only meant to talk to them, to figure out if—if they had good intentions, if they were gonna treat you right—but they all sucked, y/n, they were awful—going on and on about how they were—how they wanted to—to fuck you, just to say they could—or they weren’t—serious about how they felt and I couldn’t—I couldn’t let them do that, I couldn’t let them hurt you like that, so I… I hurt them first. Not—not much, just enough so they’d—get the idea. Leave you alone. Stay away from my girl—”

He cuts himself off, and for a moment, you’re frozen. You don’t know what to do, what to think—is this real? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Does he really mean it?

Baji’s voice cracks when he says your name.

“Y/n, listen—listen to me,” he pleads. His forehead presses against yours. Your cheeks grow wet, though you can’t tell if that’s because of you or him. “You are—the most amazing person in this whole freaking world. You get that? You’re—smart, and pretty, and so fucking funny and—and anyone who can’t see that is an idiot. And it fucking—kills me—that you’ve got it in your head that what these—stupid pricks think is the only thing that matters, because it’s not. It’s never mattered. The only thing—the only thing that has ever mattered… is you. Okay? You.”

Your throat closes. Your hands reach for his, catching only wrists as he cradles your face, trying to ground yourself in this moment. In all the things he says and all the things he doesn’t; in the silent, desperate dream that refused—refuses—to die, taking over you once more.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” His lips are so close, they brush your nose. “I’d say I regret it, but I don’t, because— you deserve better. You deserve the world, if you want, or—or the moon and all the stars, and—and unless they’d get it for you, they don’t deserve you. Okay? None of them deserved you.”

You’re just a hair away from kissing him, from caving to the impulses you thought were dead and gone and hopeless all these years, and the worst possible sentence sinks out: “you’re an idiot, Kei.”

Then you lean forward and kiss him.

In an instant—you feel whole. You feel right, in a way you haven’t since you decided you never had a chance with him; in a way you’ve been searching for in the words of all the others who’d let you down, who’d broken your heart and always, always, always led you back to moonrise with Baji, back home—

Baji jolts. He pulls away and stares at you with a wild mixture of shock and confusion. His fingers ghost his lips, only to draw back as he stares at them, then at you, then back at them, like he can’t quite comprehend this hand is attached to his body—like you were. Like you want to be, like you thought he wanted to be, like you thought he was asking you to be—

Your heart plummets as he just—stands, no witty quip or teasing remark at the ready. No lines to read between; no phrasing to draw false confessions from; nothing other than the stillness of the night, and the pounding of your heart.

“Wait—” you shrink as you realize just how hoarse a single stolen kiss has left you. “I thought—please, Kei—”

A flicker of… something dances in his eyes, and then—he watches you. Studies you, with the same scrutiny he holds before a fight or when picking apart a bike to see what parts are broke and what can be saved.

“Say it again.”

It’s your turn to blink; your turn to have wide eyes and parted lips, to study him like you’re not sure how to fix it. “I don’t—“

“My name,” he says, and your heart starts to leap. “Say my name, sweetheart.”

“I say your name all the time, Keisuke.” You’re barely above a whisper. Barely above the fear that this time, he’ll break your heart and there’ll be no one to pick up the pieces because—you ruined this.

“Not like that,” he breathes. You forget how to. “Say it like it means something. Like—you don’t hate me. Like—”

“Kei,” you interrupt, hands coming to cradle his cheeks as you read between the lines, “I forgive y—”

He doesn’t even let the final word form before his lips are on yours. Hard, aggressively melding like he’s worried you might change your mind and wants to milk every second out of this as he can—but you reciprocate just as desperately. Keisuke’s hands wrap around you, one gripping the base of your neck and the other resting on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly close, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth opens, teasing your lips apart as you trade air, fingers digging into your soft skin like it’s the last thing he’ll ever touch.

You pull away first, and that’s only because your lungs are aching—not that you mind. The pain helps make this feel real. 

For once, Keisuke’s grin doesn’t seem mocking. He moves a hand to cradle your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, sweetheart.”

“Not as long as I have,” you admit with a breathy laugh. Your hands lock around his neck, fingers playing with his hair, and you realize you’re smiling.

You kissed. Keisuke kissed you, you kissed him—everything makes sense. Everything is right, and with the moon and tides as your witness, everything is good again.

“Can I…” Keisuke starts, eyes flicking to your lips in an unspoken question. You finish his sentence with a kiss.

“You can always kiss me, Kei,” you say. “You don’t even have to ask.”

There’s the grin you recognize; the scheming, teasing grin that always makes your stomach flip in a way you thought meant he’s up to no good, but now realize as a sign you’d fallen for him long ago. 

“Oh, yeah?” he questions, brushing his lips against yours. “Only here? Or can I kiss… here?” He moves to the corner of your lips, then to the hollow of your cheek as he continues, “and… here? And maybe…”

He trails off, and he trails down, letting his lips drag against your cheek while his hand keeps you firmly in place, lips going done to your chin, down the column of your throat and back up. Your breathy yes would be pathetic—if it ever made it out. All that escapes is a breathy groan of displeasure when he stops, teasing lips hovering just above your own. “What’s that, babe? Want me t’stop?”

“You’re such an asshole.”

Your hands tangle in his hair, lips melding as your make-out turns heated. He slides his tongue along the seam of your lips, silently asking you to open—and you do. His hands curl around you, bringing you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Something digs into your leg. Something hard and unmistakable, and it leaves you grinning deeper than Kei.

You break away, laughing at his whine of protest and briefly glance down. Keisuke follows your eyes and is quick to splutter a nervous chuckle, hands dropping as he tries to step away with a short apology—though the way you catch his belt loops stops him. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t—I just—it’s your fault, y’know—“

“Shut up,” you giggle and drag him back. Now, you kiss him; once, twice, then a third before trailing your lips along the sharp ridge of his cheekbone, along his temple, to his ear. “How about you take me home, Kei?”

Keisuke’s whiplash nearly hurts you. His eyes, big and brown and wide, stare like you’ve grown an extra head. His hands shakily splay against your back, as if he wants to keep you close but he’s not sure he’s allowed to. His voice wavers slightly when he asks, “but I thought… aren’t… I mean, isn’t this… what you wanted?”

Slowly, you nod. Even slower, you pointedly look at the space between you, bridged only by the tent of his black pants. You smile at the sweet way a blush covers his cheeks, and risk slowly trailing your hand along his belt until your fingertips are hovering over that stupid, shiny, obnoxiously big belt buckle you always tease him for.

“I want you, Keisuke, and I want you to take me home.”

He doesn’t need more encouragement. 

Keisuke’s kisses grow fiercer. He devours you, never once breaking contact as his hands slide to find firm purchase on the back of your thighs. With ease, he lifts you atop his bike, setting you in front of him and stepping between your spread legs. The hem of your dress slides up with his calloused palms, collecting in a bunch then pooling down to protect your modesty as he finds two handfuls of ass. He gives a squeeze, eliciting a delighted gasp from you, then pulls back with a toothy smile.

“Then have me, sweetheart. Always been yours, anyways.” 

Your stomach twists, the way it always does when he looks at you like that, and you like it. It makes sense, it feels right—and you don’t have to pretend to justify why it makes your panties wet.

“Gotta—gotta get home—“ you try saying, but Keisuke’s hands have a mind of their own. They’re the only reason you’re still upright as he starts kissing along your neck, carefully grazing his sharp teeth but never once digging in. Your arms lop around him, digging into his scalp and shoulders as he finds this one spot that makes you moan, and you almost curse him for what that smile has done to you.

“Fuckin’—insane—if you think I'ma make it,” he mumbles into your skin, and you think you finally understand how some people can climax from someone’s voice alone.

You laugh and intend to push him away and demand that he do, that you have to, that you need to, because this—isn’t like you, you’re not one to get hot and heavy like this, certainly not in public—

But you can’t think straight. Not when Keisuke’s hands are kneading your ass, pinching and releasing like he can’t decide if he wants to hold on forever or explore somewhere new. Not when his teeth nibble your neck, and you shudder at the unbelievably primal sensation running through you.

Not when the unmistakable hardness of Keisuke’s boner finds home between your thighs, and he starts bucking his hips. It’s subtle, and he doesn’t tease you for the pathetic way you start whimpering. He focuses on continuing to explore the expanse of your otherwise untouched skin, while all you can do is revel in the way your high starts building.

You’ve been kissed before, on the lips and neck and once a little lower, but no one’s ever done this to you; pressed against your collarbone. Moved your neckline aside to suck on the fat of your breast. Left a mark that’ll last longer than a minute. For a moment, you wonder if you should tell him he’s the first, but when the zipper of his pants starts catching your clit, the only thing you’re able to do is moan his name.

Loudly.

Breathy and passionate and different than before, and he pauses. Lifts his head from your collarbone, a thin tendril of salvia keeping his lips still attached to the sensitive skin you know will bruise. He lets one hand trail up your side and cup your face, staring like this might be the last time he ever sees you, all while his hips continue to rut against you.

“Say it again,” he breathes, thumb catching your bottom lip. “Just—just like that.”

“Kei,” you repeat, giggling at the way he brightens and starts kissing you, “we need to go home—now.” For good measure, you boldly let your fingers slide to the edge of his belt buckle, in case he needs some more convincing. His free hand darts to yours, but he doesn’t stop you. He laces his fingers in yours and guides you, letting you palm at his thick hard-on. He lets out a low groan and drops his head from your lips to rest at your chest, just above the collar of your dress. You card one hand through his hair, the other applying light pressure to the (you assume) very painful ache between his legs—and not at all because you know, if he kept bucking into your core the way he just was, the way he keeps doing against your palm—you wouldn’t be able to make it home, either. “Take—take me home, Kei—”

“Not—” he huffs. His grip on your ass tightens, but you can barely feel it. Not when Keisuke whines, low and needy, teeth coming out to nip at your breast, and all you can focus on is the ache between your own legs, getting even worse as his hips start moving faster, forcing the back of your hand against your cunt as you continue to palm him. His hips don’t stop; they push against you so fiercely, so desperately, that you cave, taking away your hand so there’s nothing between you but your clothes. 

You’re on the precipice in minutes; hands digging into his shoulders as you choke on a sob, pleading with him to go faster, to not stop, to keep making you feel good—and it’s made all the worse when he does, pressing his throbbing erection even harder against your soaked panties, all the while pleading into your skin, “can’t—can’t—fuck, baby, I can’t—y/n—“

You gasp when his teeth break skin.

Keisuke’s hips still. Warm air saturates your chest as he groans into it, and for a moment you’re frozen. Your whole body aches, and you want to scream at the cruel way your orgasm was stolen—but you’re too in shock that he got you there that fast, that easily. Something warm trickles down your cheeks, between your breasts—blood? saliva? tears?—he doesn’t move. You don’t move. You’re not even sure he’s breathing, until his shoulders heave and your skin is warmed once more. A slight burn starts to spread across your chest, and when you open your mouth to ask him why the hell he stopped—all that comes out is his name.

You say it softly, then a little louder, but it’s not until you grab his face and force him to look up that he speaks—but his eyes are fixed firmly on the reddening bite mark forming atop your breast.

“M’sorry…”

A mean part of you wants to tell him he owes you a lot more than sorry, but the way his lower lip disappears as he nervously chews on it has you choosing otherwise. “It’s okay,” you comfort instead, “it didn’t hurt that bad.”

Keisuke grimaces. “No, I—” 

He sighs, head dropping back to your chest. Both arms wrap around your waist, and he presses a light kiss to the place he’d just bitten; the only way he probably figures he can keep close without meeting your gaze. He mumbles something, but you only know because you feel his lips moving.

“Can’t hear you…” you try prompting, but it only makes him snuggle deeper. He sighs again, loud and warm and in a way you’re familiar with—the way that really means, I can’t believe I have to do this… “C’mon, Kei, don’t you want to take me home?”

“Ididntmakeit.”

You have never, ever, in your life ever seen Keisuke embarrassed. Not when he told you about needing Chifuyu to tutor him post-juvie; not when he failed his college entry exams; not even when you accidentally walked in on him showering (in hindsight, he was probably a little too comfortable with how long it might’ve taken you to leave).

This was the man who went skinny dipping for fun. He’ll order fruity drinks for his friends who are too embarrassed to do it themselves. His approach to a lost fight is to get a rematch, not pretend it didn’t exist, and even in mundane moments that have you at a loss for words, like mistaking someone’s name or forgetting a face, Kei’s always quick for a retort or defense or a smile that makes everything better.

Keisuke Baji doesn’t get embarrassed—but that’s the only word that fits. His cheeks are redder than you’ve ever seen, his breathing faster than his pulse. His eyes refuse to meet yours, and his fingers knead into clumsy, nervous patterns along the side of your thighs.

Then he takes a deep breath, and with one shaking hand, he slowly brings your palm to the crotch of his pants… that are now sticky.

Your eyes widen, and you’re almost too late to choke down a gasp. Kei’s eyes close, and he ducks his head in shame. “I didn’t—I mean, I haven’t—you're just—I’m so sorry—”

“Why?” It sounds curt, and you don’t intend it to. Better than laughing, you reason—although you will absolutely get him for this later… when it stops feeling like the most humiliating thing in the world.

Keisuke swallows. “I haven’t ever… you know.”

“What, cum early?” It’s cruel to tease, you know that, but you can’t stop the slight satisfaction that you—you—are able to bring a man like Keisuke Baji to his knees.

“No! I mean—no, I…” Kei looks out to the ocean, fingers still anxiously kneading into your thighs. The temperature drops, though you’re not sure if it actually does or you’re just feeling like it as you try to understand what’s happened, what’s happening—what you’re to do next. His jaw clenches and he tries to pull away from you, but you don’t let him. You wrap your legs around the backs of his thighs, keeping him in place.

“Kei…” you say softly. You don’t force him to look at you. Instead, you let your fingers trail up his abs, curling around his neck so you can rest your forehead against his temple and kiss his cheek. “I don’t care. Just means you gotta make it up to me—”

“I’ve never had sex before.”

You’re grateful he doesn’t look at you, because you’re not able to control the utter shock coloring your face. How is that possible? You’ve heard the whispers when you go out; you’ve seen the looks. At parties or bars or clubs, he’d find a pretty thing and disappear, and you assumed you knew what happened behind those closed doors—because why, why, why would you want to ask about that? 

The others didn’t dispel it, either; in fact, they’d constantly rip on him for his… gift, and Keisuke never fought back. He’d just smirk and wink and say, “it’s never disappointed,” and by the time you’d turned red, thinking about when you caught him in the shower and knew what they were saying was true, they’d moved on to taunting someone else.

So how the hell is it possible that Keisuke’s a virgin—and, more importantly, how didn’t you know?

You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover. If he were to ask, you’d say you were just waiting for him—because when you do speak, it’s only when Keisuke turns to you with narrowed eyes, an apprehensive blush clear on his face. 

“Wanna know a secret?” you ask, forcing a teasing lilt to your voice—though your stomach twists. This isn’t exactly the way you wanted to tell him, and for a flash, you think of how disappointed he might be to learn the truth. 

But when he meets your gaze, eyes wide and focused entirely on you, somewhere between hopeful and nervous, you know it’s for the best. Your smile is sweet, but not as sweet as your lips when you kiss the crinkle between his eyes. He immediately relaxes, hands stilling as he leans into you. “Neither have I.”

He straightens and pulls far enough away so he can examine you. For a minute, your confession hangs between the two of you, then Kei starts floundering, “but I thought… you said… but he… what about your ex?”

You shrug, your own cheeks starting to flush. “It never felt right.”

Keisuke blinks. His mouth parts, eyes darting between yours like he’s waiting for the gotcha!, but all he receives is the embarrassed way you can’t meet his gaze, feeling as if you’ve somehow let him down. You squirm, his warm hands still atop your thighs sending butterflies to your stomach, and shrug again. “I dunno, I just—didn’t think it was fair. Doing that with someone, when all I could think about…” you swallow, lips twisting as you debate whether or not to tell him the truth. 

He catches your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Think about what, sweetheart?”

The way he asks tells you he already knows; but like earlier, when you knew and had to hear it anyway, he needs you to say it, too.

So you take a steadying breath. You gently trail a finger down the side of his jaw, and you make yourself smile as you say, “you, Kei. It didn’t seem right if it wasn’t you.”

This time when he kisses you, it’s slow. He takes his time in tasting you, in savoring the moment. He lets you guide where his lips go, how his hands wander, and he waits for you to pull back before he suggests, “how about I take you home now?”

Your stomach flutters. Fingers knot at the base of his skull, and slowly, a smile spreads on your face. 

“I’d like that.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple. You can feel the joy in it, one that doesn’t fade for either of you as he unhooks your legs so you can properly straddle the bike, then tucks the helmet on you and pops on himself.

“Hold on,” he calls as he revs the engine, “might be goin’ a bit faster than usual.”

“Don’t worry,” you laugh, and even though you know he probably can’t hear you, you add, “I’m never letting go.”

You make it to Keisuke’s apartment in seven minutes flat—which, normally, would leave you terrified, given his place is twenty minutes from your spot, but you doubt that’s what’s got your heart racing. He barely gives you enough time to take the helmet off before his hands are back on you, easily scooping you up and carrying you up the stairs. You bump into a few walls, and the way you’ve got a loose grasp on his helmet sends it craning into his back just as often, but neither of you care. Between fits of giggles and cautious glances to make sure he’s not about to walk you through a glass door (or down a stairwell), you kiss like it’ll be the last time you ever get the chance to.

“Anyone home?” you mumble into his lips. He slams you against the front door of his shared three-bedroom apartment, using his hips to keep you up while he tries to find the lock by memory.

“Nope,” he replies, lips busy with your skin, fingers fumbling uselessly behind you. “Stupid—fucking lock—told Tora to leave it—never fuckin’ listens—”

“Relax,” you laugh, although that’s rich coming from you. Your legs tighten around him as you break free from his kiss, instead sucking along the column of his throat. Freeing his face is supposed to give him enough room to actually look for the lock, so the two of you can stop dry-humping in the hall and finally get the privacy you need—but like always, Keisuke does the unexpected.

He throws his head back and moans, giving you more access to leave a matching hickey—and you’re not strong enough to resist the temptation. A whine starts in his throat, from where you’re sucking on his pale skin. The keys clatter to the ground.

“Keisuke,” you scold—but before you can tease him for being in a rush, his lips are back on yours.

“Never gonna make it,” is his only defense.

“Gonna—gonna have to,” you reply, but every time you try pulling away or reach for the keys yourself, he grabs you. Wraps your wrists in his rough hands, pins them to the door beside your head, and leans so far forward that, even with your limp legs, he’s able to keep you up himself. “Kei—“

“So help me sweetheart,” he warns, hips rolling against yours with a sense of urgency only outmatched by his kiss, “if you keep saying my name like that, I swear to the gods I’m gonna fuck you right here.”

“So help me, sweetheart,” you shoot back, breathy and hot as you try to avoid the way his lips chase yours, “if you don’t get me inside right now, I might let you.”

He freezes. Pulls away from the delightful bruise he’d just been leaving below your ear and stares at you with a mixture of awe and utter delight. “Really?”

You swat the back of his head. “No, dumbass, open the fucking door.”

Keisuke’s lips, pink and bruising slightly, twist in a pretend pout as he squats. He keeps one thick palm under your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around him as he snags his keys. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“Says the guy who does—that,” you try scoffing, but you’re cut off with a moan when Kei stands and bounces you against his hips. His boner is back and harder than before, pressing into your core, the messy, wet mix of your drenched panties and his earlier cum making a lewd sound in the otherwise silent hallway. 

“Does… what, babe?” he teases. “C’mon, finish that sentence.” 

You don’t know how he finds the focus to actually find the lock this time, but you thank every deity in the world that he does—because it takes just a second, a single, solitary second for him to jimmy it in, slam the door open, and you’re finally alone.

The door frame rattles. Something falls, but you can’t tell if it’s the mirror you insisted he hang above the entry table you insisted he get or if it’s the rickety old coat rack Chifuyu said would ‘class up the joint’; all you know is that as soon as the key is in, Baji’s hands are back to cradling your thighs for support as he crosses the threshold. 

You reach for the door, but he catches it with his ankle and slams it shut, quickly spinning to pin you against it.

“Really—” you pant, “really got the place—to ourselves?”

“Mhm,” Keisuke confirms. He leans into you, palms rubbing along your thighs until they get to your knees, silently asking you to wrap tighter around him. You do, and the moment he feels your ankles cross at the small of his back, his hands move to your waist. “Told ‘em—needed space.”

“Oh?” you question, your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt and tug, tug, tugging—“And when’d you do that?”

He reaches behind his head and yanks his tee off, tossing it carelessly into the darkness of the apartment. You hadn’t even paused to turn on the lights.

“After I saw Tadashi.” You can tell he’s grinning, especially as you drag your nails along the chiseled plane of his abs. His hands slide up your torso, thumb rubbing your stomach through the thin cotton of your dress, grazing the underwire of your bra. “Told Tora this one wasn’t gonna work, either, ’n he said I should just tell ya the truth, 'cause he couldn’t watch me mope around all night again—”

“Mope?” you tease. Kei’s fingers dig in. “Kazutora accused you of moping?”

“Well—shut up!” he whines. “You try watching the person you’re in love with go out with guys who don’t deserve them and tell me you wouldn’t start moping either—y/n? Why… are you looking at me like that?”

Your eyes are wide. Your hands go limp, the helmet falling to the floor with a loud clatter. Your lips part to say… something, but you’re not sure what.

Keisuke’s told you he’s loves you a thousand times; the brief ‘kay love ya! before he hangs up; the gentle love you, see ya tomorrow whenever he’d bring you home; the drawn out gods I love you after you’ve surprised him with his favorite meal—but none like this.

None so… blatant. So unmistakable.

Kei stares at you curiously, as if he isn’t even aware of what he’s just said. He repeats your name, hands leaving your waist to catch your chin.

“You’re… in love with me?” 

Keisuke blinks.

For a moment, you think you must’ve misheard, he must’ve misspoke, you must have misunderstood—but a brilliant smile breaks his face, and he nuzzles his nose against yours. “‘Course I’m in love with you, sweetheart. I’ve been in love with you, and I ain’t ever gonna stop loving you—”

You kiss him.

The gentlest one yet. The way you always dreamed your first one would be; soft, sweet, lips pressing together while your hands held him close. Heartbeats synching. The world falling away as it’s just the two of you, in this moment, endless and forever.

There’s only one thing to say when you pause: “I love you too, Keisuke.”

Your teeth knock together as Keisuke can’t contain his smile, either. Hands move, one around the small of your back and the other under a single thigh. Your lips never part as he carries you to his room.

He sets you at the foot of his bed and stands above you. His chest heaves, bare and flushed with need. Your hands slip from his neck to his bed to keep yourself propped up, legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. Keisuke’s hands travel to your knees, and he just—stares.

He loves you. How could he not, with the way that pretty dress puddles on his mattress, exposing nearly all of your leg but hiding what he’s been waiting for his whole adult life? How could he not, with the way his spit makes your collar glistens in the moonlight, filtering in from behind those sheer curtains you insisted he get? How could he not love the way you say his name, reaching towards him, fingers catching on his belt buckle as you ask him if he’s ready?

“Not yet,” he whispers. The hoarseness of his voice, the way it’s dropped several octaves from merely seeing you on his bed, sends a jolt of electricity through you. You’re about to ask why, but the reverence in how he’s looking at you makes you not want to break this spell.

He trails his fingers along your calves. Gently, he unhooks your legs from his waist. His fingers shake as he struggles with the straps of your heels, but when you go to help, he catches your wrist. 

“No,” he repeats, “not yet.”

You keep quiet and merely watch as your best friend, the man of your dreams, takes his time in undressing you. One wedge, then the other, falling off your feet with a dull clank! on the carpet. Keisuke kisses your ankles, then starts kissing up your calves, then your knees, then your thighs—

The anticipation has you dripping. Your thighs instinctively clench when he gets to your hem, hands curling into fists by your sides. Your panties are uncomfortably glued to your cunt, sticky in a way you’ve never been before, and he’s not even lifted your dress to see yet.

Keisuke rests his chin atop your thigh. “Please,” he pleads—pleads—“Let me—baby, let me. I wanna taste you.”

Today is not the day you learn to refuse him.

Your muscles shake from anticipation as you slowly spread your legs, but that’s not enough for him. “Baby, no, I—I wanna hear you say it.” His voice is soft, shaky. A little hesitant, as if he’s not sure if this’ll ruin the moment but he knows he has to be sure—he has to hear you say it… if only to revel in the desperate way you say his name. 

“Keisuke, please… whatever you want, have it. Just—touch me, Kei, please, I need you—“

“Need you too, sweetheart,” he praises, running his lips along your thigh. “Gonna—gonna have you now, okay?”

His fingers still shake when he lifts your dress, exposing the black lace of your panties to him. At first glance, he can’t tell that they’re absolutely soaked—but that doesn’t stop the way you start to squirm in embarrassment as he just… stares. His thumbs dig into the fat of your hips, broad palms keeping your thighs spread and pinned to the bed.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s not breathing.

“Kei?”

He doesn’t look up. 

His grip gets tighter. His eyes narrow. Before you get the chance to ask him what’s wrong, he growls, “you wore these for him?”

You blink. That is not what you were expecting, but before you can defend with they’re my lucky pair, or I wanted to feel sexy, or it doesn’t matter, I’m here with you—Keisuke’s ripped them off.

You yelp when the fabric bites your skin, failing to wriggling away as Keisuke strips them off your ankle. “What the fuck—“

“I’ll get you a new pair,” he mutters. “Shit—I’ll get you a hundred pairs, but you get rid of every single set someone else has seen. Got it?”

Your lips purse. He’s being unreasonable, you think, and totally ridiculous… but no matter how much your brain tries to reason he’s out of line, your fluttering pussy doesn’t get the message. Your slick is evident now, exposed and iridescent in the moonlight, dripping down your hole and slowly saturating the sheets.

Usually, Keisuke wouldn’t let it go. Usually, he’d keep picking at it until you cave, or at least recognize you heard him—but usually, he’s not staring at your cunt. 

Right now, he can’t focus on anything but how desperate he is to be inside you.

“Yeah, think ya got it… fuck, babe… seems like you like it when I say shit like that, hunh?” 

You whimper slightly, having to bite your lip to keep it together. Slowly, he drags the tip of his finger from the sheet beneath you up along your wet folds. He barely touches you, but when he pulls his finger away, it’s covered in a layer of you. 

He brings it to his face with a cocky grin, watching how the pad shines in the moonlight. “You always this wet, or am I special?”

“Shut up,” you shoot back, preparing to bring up how special he found you earlier—only to immediately throw your head back and moan as Keisuke buries his face between your legs.

There is no preamble. There are no more teasing quips or pauses; Keisuke dives in like a man starved, and the only thing that can sate his appetite is you.

He starts with broad strokes, gathering as much of your slick as he can. He’s messy, messier than you, and soon there’s more of his spit than your wetness between your legs. His arms wrap around your thighs, keeping them pinned and spread on his shoulders as he continues to feast, thumbs spreading your lips open so he can truly devour you.

When Keisuke starts suckling on your clit, your fingers knot in his hair. You moan, loud and whiney and plead for him to keep going as your orgasm starts to boil—faster than before, more powerful too, with greater ease than you’ve ever managed to pull from yourself.

Keisuke brings a hand to your clit, quickly swiping the puffy bud with the pad of his thumb as he focuses his tongue on your fluttering hole. In and out, up and down, the warm muscle drives you insane. Your grip on his hair must hurt, but he says nothing; he focuses on making you feel as good as humanly possible, never once letting up, not even when you start to choke, “Kei—I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he commands. “C’mon, pretty girl, make a mess on my face, wanna feel how you clench, wanna make ya cry—”

It sends you over the edge.

With a scream of his name, your back arches. Your thighs try closing around him but still, he doesn’t let up. He keeps pace, tongue-fucking you, lapping up all the juice that spills out as his thumb continues caressing your clit until you do start crying and you do have to plead, “no—no more, Kei, can’t—“

“Can,” he corrects—but he stops. His hand stills, moving so that the warmth of his palm covers that sensitive bundle of nerves, and only then does he stop lapping at your hole. He presses a gentle kiss to your sex, then to your inner thigh. “But I’ll be nice tonight, sweetheart. Only ‘cause I love you, though.”

You stare at the ceiling as you catch your breath. The paint is peeling in the corner. The glow-in-the-dark stars you helped him put up when he first moved in are dim. The walls are covered in motorcycle posters. A calendar set to the wrong month hangs above a salvaged desk, covered with various veterinary textbooks, barely legible notebooks, a handful of empty beer cans, and a handful of DVD cases, one of which you know is Dyslexia; How to Read When Even Your Brain Doesn’t Want You To. A neon sign advertising Margaritaville is unlit beside his closet. A pile of clothes that didn’t make it to the hamper rests beneath it.

 The room is so—Keisuke , you feel at peace, even as your limbs turn to jelly.

Your heart is racing faster than if you’d just run a marathon. “Thought—thought you said you hadn’t—“ you try panting, but it’s too much effort, too soon. You end up collapsing back on the bed, head swimming with euphoria.

“Said I hadn’t had sex,” Keisuke corrects as he stands, your limp thighs falling to the either side of his waist, “not that I’ve never eaten pussy.” He scoffs, as if that should’ve been obvious. “I’m not an idiot, babe. I respect women enough to know where the clit is.”

A little laugh escapes you. The fan motor is the only other sound. It’s cool, your nipples perk beneath your bra, but you’re still hot. Still hyper aware that Keisuke is just a few inches away, watching your bare cunt flutter and beg him for more.

Keisuke does love you. You know he does, because he gives you time to catch your breathe before he starts up again, only pressing soft kisses to the inside of your legs and quiet offerings of, “so fuckin’ pretty” and “can’t believe you’re here” and, your favorite, the only one you respond to: “so in love with you.” 

“I love you too, Kei.”

He runs his hands along your sides, slowly taking more and more of your dress up with it until the entire thing is resting by your neck. He makes quick work of your bra, not even needing you to sit up as he unhooks it and lifts the cups away.

He says nothing; just stares at your naked body with the same adoration and awe he held when taking off your shoes.

“You’re—so beautiful,” he whispers. “Y’know that? So—so fuckin’ beautiful.”

He bends down and takes a pert nipple in his mouth. You whine, hate yourself for doing so, then whine again as his free hand starts tweaking your other nipple. He runs his tongue over every inch of your chest, making sure you’re covered with his spit and hands, traversing as much of you as he can.

When he gets to your face, he smiles. “You’re mine, yeah? All mine?”

Your fingers run over his jaw, over the bruise that’s barely discernible in the moonlight. No one’s touched you like him; no one’s even kissed you like him, either, and you’re not sure if it’s the “Keisuke” of it all making you feel like this, or if this is how it’s supposed to have felt all along. 

The answer comes easily.

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile of your own, “yeah, m’all yours, Keisuke. Pretty sure I always have been.”

“Always, hunh?” He holds you gently now; a stark contrast to the hungry way he’d just devoured you. “That mean you’ve always loved me, too?”

Your breathy yes is lost in a gasp when his hand slides between your legs. Gently, he prods a single thick finger into your virgin hole, shallowly dipping in and out. “Never had someone else in here, hunh? M’gonna be your first?”

“Y-yes,” you repeat, voice cracking. Your eyes flutter close as he keeps fingering you. You’d had fingers in there before, but none like this. Your own couldn’t compare, two of yours barely able to stretch the way one of his does… and he’s not even going all the way. Not even knuckle deep as he explores only the shallows, letting you adjust.

Your face scrunches when he adds a second.

“This okay?” he asks. You look at him, hand wrapping around his neck as you bring his forehead down to meet yours.

You nod, then remember what he said earlier, how you could feel his cock jumping when you were sweet and needy for him. “Yeah, Keisuke. Yes—yes, I want this. I want you.”

He cups your face and trails soft kisses from corner to corner, breaking apart only to lift your dress and bra over your head. They’re carelessly thrown to the floor, you have half a mind to scold him that it’ll wrinkle—but when he goes back to your cunt, two fingers halfway in, all you’re able to say is the harsh inhale of his name.

They’re shallow, never pushing in deep enough to hurt, slowly stretching your rim to its max. He goes a little deeper, then starts scissoring them, and it becomes nearly impossible to believe he hasn’t done this before.

“No—no way you’re a virgin,” you hiss when Keisuke’s lips travel to your breast. He alternates between sucking hickeys and kneading them while staring at the way your cunt sucks him in, never stopping his ministrations.

Keisuke lets out a short scoff and shifts. “You literally made me cum my pants like a teenager.”

“Then how—“

“I told ya, babe, I respect women,” is his only reply. The only one he’s willing to give, at least, because he starts paying more attention to your tits than what questions are spilling his way.

You feel like you’ve got to be ready when he adds a third, and you say as much—only for Keisuke to meet your gaze with a cocky grin. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re gonna thank me for this.” 

It can’t be much longer until he deems you ready, but it feels like forever, even if he keeps you distracted from the slight burn between your legs by playing with your breasts, sucking on your throat, praising you.

“Taking m’fingers so well, pretty thing. You’re such a good girl f’me, can’t believe you made me wait this long…”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you scold. He curls his fingers mid-way through your sentence, rubbing against a sensitive spot you’ve never been able to find on your own. You keen his name, hand snapping down to catch his forearm. He pauses.

“Too much?”

Slowly, you shake your head, eyes watering. “Please, Kei, I—I want you to fuck me.”

Keisuke presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Never could say no to you, sweetheart.”

If you could think clearly, you’d start listing all the times he has denied you, starting with just a few seconds ago—but him withdrawing his fingers leaves you feeling too empty to do much but pout.

When he pulls away, you chase after him, only for him to shake his head with a fond grin. “How am I supposed to fuck you if you won’t let me take my pants off?”

With hot cheeks, your lips twist. “You were the one who wanted to fuck on your bike, and then in the hall—what, were you planning on stripping naked then, too?”

You’re rewarded with a very rare, very endearing blush. He sits back on his knees and rubs his neck, eyes dropping from yours—then his lip curls in a smirk. “With how wet you got, seems like you wanted me to. What—you like the idea of that? Getting fucked in public? Don’t worry, sweetheart, maybe we’ll try that one day…” He laughs at the way you squirm, but he’s not wrong; your cunt clenches at the thought.

“You’re such a dick.” Your hands reach for his belt, fumbling slightly as you try to undo it. Keisuke’s hands take over, getting rid of the black leather in seconds.

“Your dick,” he corrects, hands back on you, gently laying you back against his pillows, trailing over your now completely naked body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You roll your eyes but say nothing, heart in your throat, pussy pulsing in anticipation.

He straightens, taking in the display in front of him. Taking in you.

You sit up slightly, chewing your lower lip. He’s beautiful, but even more so in the moonlight. It illuminates his pale skin, almost making him glow in the darkness of the rest of his room. Obsidian hair falls in a straight sheet around his flushed cheeks, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Violet and red marks adorn his neck and chest. His abs flex when he watches the way your eyes trail down; down the inlet between them, down the stern jut of his prominent v-line, over the faint trail of dark hair that disappears into the band of his jeans.

His fingers—the ones just inside you—hover on the button. They’re covered in your slick, resting just above a bulge that looks absolutely delicious, one that you know he can’t wait to bury inside you—but still, he hesitates.

“I love you, Keisuke,” you say. He smiles. It’s the only further confirmation he needs before he’s pushing off the bed and pulling down his jeans and underwear in one go.

The others have lied about a lot—like Baji’s lack of virginity—but the size of Keisuke is not one of them.

Your jaw drops as you push to your knees, staring at Keisuke’s cock like it’s the first you’ve ever seen. It’s not, and technically speaking, it’s not even the first time you’ve seen his—but that time in the shower, when it was hanging heavily between his legs and you only caught a glimpse… apparently, that was him soft.

Keisuke hard is more impressive than any porn you’ve seen. So heavy that it can barely support its own weight, even with all the blood rushing through it, and so wide around even Keisuke, with his broad palms and lanky fingers, doesn’t dwarf it. 

A thick bead of pre slips out the tip, trailing along the bulging vein that disappears under Keisuke’s hand as he starts to stroke it.

“This… is where the others tapped out,” he says slowly, taking in the way you watch. “I mean—not that I’m thinking about them—but I just—“

“You’re big.”

Keisuke chokes on a laugh. “So I’ve heard. Pretty virgin like you wouldn’t know any better though, would you?”

You give him a withering glare. “I’ve sucked dick before, asshole. You’re big.”

Keisuke’s jaw clenches. “Yeah? Go on, then. Show me how you’ve sucked dick.”

Later, you’ll tease him for how jealous he got, and later, you’ll revel in the possessive way he determines to erase every other touch from your memory—but now, you obediently crawl towards him, one of your smaller hands overlapping his, and you take control.

You press a soft kiss to his flushed tip. It’s larger than your lips, his pre a salty gloss as you kiss again and again—Keisuke grips your hair. “Suck.”

It’s as much a plea as it is a command, one you can’t ignore. You take him,—just the tip—in your mouth, tongue swirling over his warm head as your hand replaces his on the rest of his dick. Your fingers barely touch, and no matter how you adjust, how you lay your palm or spread your fingers… there’s still at least an inch of him exposed.

He hisses, nearly drowning out the lewd, wet sound your pussy makes as it clenches around nothing.

“This—turning you on?” he says, as if his cock isn’t twitching obscenely against your tongue. “Fuckin—sucking on a big cock making you wet?”

You let go with a wet pop! and bat your eyelashes at him. You know exactly what you’re doing when you say, “No, Kei. I’m this wet ‘cause of you.”

With a groan, Keisuke pulls your head back to his dick and thrusts in, sliding as far as you’ll let him before you start to gag. “That’s—that’s it, sweetheart, get it nice and wet.”

He holds you there for a moment, waiting until you tap on his thigh before sliding out. Your eyes are teary, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. Deftly, you twist your wrist while catching your breath. His fingers go from knotting in your hair to petting the back of your head.

“You keep doing that, I’m gonna bust,” he warns, but his fond smile gives him away.

You merely smile. “Telling me you’ve never had your cock sucked, Kei?” 

His lip curls in a snarl, which disappears with a groan when you take him in your throat once more. Slowly, lips pursing around him, tongue flicking along the sensitive underside of his cockhead as you try going as far as you can. Your jaw is already starting to ache, but you’re determined to prove yourself.

“Not—like this,” he moans, pushing your head a little further down. Your lips split in a smile, and you raise your hand to start fondling his balls—a trick that’s always gotten you success before—but before you make contact, Keisuke is sliding out and grabbing your jaw. He’s breathing heavily, pupils blown out with lust. He stares at your lips then leans forward, not flinching at the taste of himself on you.

“Wanna fuck you now,” he mumbles. You wrap your arms around his neck and start to lean back, nodding.

“Want you to fuck me too,” you agree. One of Keisuke’s muscular thighs slides between your legs, easing them apart. He keeps kissing you, letting you fall softly against his pillows while he keeps stroking his member, slick with your spit.

He taps the tip of his cock against your clit. You hiss in surprise, eyes closing shut at the sudden sensation of pleasure that rushes through you. “Let me know if it hurts,” he says quietly. He grips his cock right beneath the head, guiding it through your slick folds, getting as much of your fluids on him as he can. 

He’s torn between needing to see the way you suck him in, and the need to squeeze his eyes shut. The sight of you alone, legs spread on either side, pussy gushing because of him, covering in marks because of him, mewling his name as you beg him to fuck you—it’s almost enough for him to cum on the spot. 

Faintly, honks echo from the street below. It’s amazing that in this instant, as your world is about to change forever and for the better, everyone else is going about their business like nothing’s happening. They’re catching a late-dinner with their partner; walking home from a late-night meeting that could’ve been an email; swinging by the grocer’s to pick up snacks and drinks to share with their friends… The whole world is continuing on, just beyond that window, but for you and Keisuke… it’s as if time’s stopped. 

The world is only real for the two of you.

He bends down to kiss you, making sure to pour every ounce of love and care he has into this one. You respond just as sweetly, reveling in the power of this moment, this one decision that will irrevocably tie you together forever, the way you were always meant to be.

He loves you, you love him, and there’s nothing else that matters.

“Ready?” he asks. You nod, then echo, “ready,” and he puts it in; just the tip, spearing past your tight hole. The two of you let out a synchronous gasp.

It’s even more than three of his fingers; warm, too, and thick, softer but also harder and full—you’re so, so, so full as he slowly edges in. It hurts—it feels good—it burns—you need more—

“Baby,” Keisuke pants. He’s let go of his cock, letting just the first inch or so rest comfortably within your walls. You feel him twitch, feel how tight his fingers dig into the sheets on either side of you so he doesn’t add more bruises to your ever-growing collection. “Baby, talk to me. Tell me—are you—are you okay?”

You whimper slightly when he sinks a little further. Eyes scrunching, your fingers digging into his thighs as you try to even your breath. “It—it’s so—“ you try saying, but it’s like you can feel him in your stomach, the pressure tightening all the way up your throat and cutting you off.

“So—good,” Keisuke gasps. He does the best he can, really, but you—you’re so—warm, and wet, and inviting—the place you’re joined might be the best thing he’s ever felt–ever seen. He slides a little further, presses a kiss to wherever he can reach as he waits until your chest stops heaving as horribly. He tries telling you he loves you, he really tries telling you how amazing you are, how perfect you are, how good you feel—but all that comes out are choked, half-sentences that fade into groans.

Tears prick at your lash line by the time he’s securely sheathed in you. Your fingers dig into his back, trying to pull him flush to your chest and bury his head in your neck so he can’t see. You know how he’ll feel; he’ll pull out and say he’s sorry, that he never meant to hurt you and it’s not worth it and he won’t try again–and that’s not what you want. You just need some time to adjust, that’s all. 

You never realized how empty you were.

Keisuke lifts up from the crook of your neck when the first tear slides against his cheek. “M’sorry,” he breathes, kissing one eye, then the other, licking the tear tracks and kissing you again. “M’sorry, I don’t wanna hurt—“ His arms shake on either side of you. The urge to start shifting his hips is sinful, but he doesn’t. He can’t, not until you're okay, not until you tell him it’s okay.

“It’s—okay,” you breathe. Your face says otherwise, but really… it’s okay. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, offering him a little smile as you shift your hips ever-so-slightly against his. “I’m—I’m okay, baby, really. Just—just go slow.”

Keisuke kisses you. Slowly, deeply, spreading your lips with his as he gently pulls out and slides back in, heeding your directive to go slow. It hurts, it still hurts, is it supposed to hurt like this—but right when you’re about to give up, right when you’re about to tell him it's too much and maybe you should stop… it starts to feel good.

Not just full, but satisfying, bumping against the back of your messy cunt with every stroke. The ridge of his cockhead catches your insides in a way that makes your toes curl, and before long, your legs are wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Gods—fuck, Kei, fuck—“ you hiss, burying your head in his shoulder, biting his collarbone to keep yourself from screaming. “Just—there, like that, don’t—fuck—“

“Thought you said you were a virgin,” he hisses. Your broken pleas of, I am, I am, I am—go unrecognized as he slowly picks up speed. “Virgin pussy—heh—always feel this—fuckin’ good?”

You moan, loud and unreserved, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. Your stomach burns. Your pussy clenches, but for the first time, there’s finally something to hold on to, finally something to fill you up—you’ve never been so full, never felt so good. The coil tightens in your stomach, made all the more tense by the fact there’s something inside— “Gonna— gonna cum, Kei, don’t—don’t stop, please—“

“Yeah, sweetheart? You gonna—gonna cum for me? Go on, cum f’me. Cum on my cock, baby, show me what we’ve been—been waitin’ for—“

You cry when your orgasm finally washes over you.

You’ve never climaxed this powerfully before, to the point that you’ve felt like—this. The world is empty besides the two of you. Bells ring in your ear as you struggle to keep your eyes open, your whole body floating. You feel everything and nothing; like you’re weightless but have never been so heavy in your life.

You gasp for air, fingers digging into Keisuke’s shoulders as his hips stutter a few more times then still. His moans into your ear as his own orgasms consumes him, painting your insides white, shooting so much it drips out of your spent pussy and starts to puddle between you.

He stays there for a moment. Lets his lips trace lazy patterns beneath your ear, still half-hard inside you, one hand gripping the back of your neck and the other holding your breast. Even though you’re spent, your hands delicately trail up and down his spine. Your breathing is heavy and your smile bright and you think you could stay right here forever.

The plastic stars one his ceiling smile down at you, and you imagine the ones outside are doing the same. ‘About time!’ they seem to say. After all these years, about time. There’s a shrill whistle of bus brakes, screeching to a halt; a muffled shout from one pedestrian to another. The fan creaks slightly, the cool air washing over you and helping calm the raging fire on your skin. The clock on Keisuke’s lopsided nightstand, made even with a stack of textbooks he never got to put to use, beeps at midnight: the end of one day, the start of forever.

Kei takes a deep breath and slides off, hissing as his sensitive cock is exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. He lays on his back, taking a hand and placing it over his eyes as he tries to calm his racing heart.

Your legs are sticky. They’re already getting sore. Your hips ache, your spine stretches, your chest burns—but you relish it. Kei’s breathing evens beside you. 

Glancing, you check if he’s asleep—but with the way his forearm covers his eyes, you can’t tell. He looks even more like an angel now. Light, from a city just waking up, creeps past the curtains, illuminating slivers of his pale and flushed skin. He looks–relaxed. Content, even with the blush still coloring his high cheeks bones. His lips are parted, shallow gasps of air being sucked through them, but the longer you look, the more it looks like they’re curling in a smile.

His chest rises and falls steadily, and just when you start to think he might actually be asleep, the hand beneath your neck starts playing with your hair.

“Think it’s—always this good?” he asks breathlessly, pulling you in a little closer.

You pretend to think. He tilts his head, cracking an eye to look down at you curiously. You smile. “I don’t know. Think we better try again—y’know, just to be sure.”

Kei barks out a laugh and pulls you to his chest, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And right now, with the gentle light filtering through his open window, sweaty and smiling and with his cum dripping from between your legs to make a mess of his thigh, you are.

You play with the edges of his hair, sprawled lazily across his sweaty forehead. With a soft smile, he reaches for your fingers and pulls them to his lips. “Do you actually like it? My haircut, I mean. Pretty sure you liked the other stuff.”

You answer with a laugh, pressing a kiss to where the edges fall. “I love it.”

He grins and rolls over, pinning you to the mattress. The short locks make a curtain, hiding the two of you from anything but each other. “Good. Did it f’you.”

“For me?”

He hums and buries his face in your neck, delicately kissing the bruising skin. “Noticed your type. None of them had long hair, ’n I thought…”

With a pealing laugh, you grab his cheeks and bring his face to yours, smothering him with kisses. “Keisuke, you are such an idiot.”

He pretends to frown, but kisses you all the same. “Weren’t calling me that when I was making you scream earlier.”

“Kei,” you say, forcing him back so you can really meet his eyes, “short hair, long hair. No hair. The only kind of guy I’ve ever truly wanted has been you.”

Keisuke blinks. Short, thick lashes bat against those endlessly high cheekbones of his, and then he smiles. He lowers his lips to yours once more and gifts you a kiss; deep, slow. A kiss that’s been years in the making, that says all that your words have and then some.

“I love you,” he says, and you barely have time to say the same before he’s kissing you, hardening cock easily gliding back through your sticky folds, and you go for round two.

So... happy adventuring :) thank you for reading! if you made it this far… pls reblog, drop a comment, or leave an ask if you enjoyed!! I worked really, really hard on this, and it would mean the absolute world to me that, if y’all enjoyed it, you told me why. if you hated it, tell me why. if i made you cry or scream or fall in love or fierce fiercely full of disappointed rage, tell me why!! i won’t bite (unless you ask)!

hopefully the next adventure gets even better. thanks for reading!

[weirdkpopgirl]

Stay | Dream Reaction #7

Reaction: To the First Time their GF Stays at their Place

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Warnings: mentions of stress, subtle mental health stuff in Renjun's, making out in Haechan's (but nothing explicit), oh, and mentions of fighting in Jaemin's part?

Word Count: 2780k

Author's Note: Hii, this was requested by a lovely anon. It's been a while since someone requested something, which made me really happy. To the person who messaged me, this may not be exactly what you had in mind. I did go a slightly darker route with some of the members. But I still hope you like it. Thank you for reading ^ - ^

Also, no one probably cares. But I've been listening to Dream's mini album nonstop XD

~ ~ ~

MARK

The corners of your lips downturned into a frown at the sight of your boyfriend’s workaholic state. Honestly, you weren’t surprised. But it didn’t make you any less angry.

Taeyong had sent you a text, relaying his concerns about the boy overworking again. He already had enough on his plate with hectic schedules for both 127 and Dream. Yet there he was, hunched over his computer and surrounded by crumpled balls of paper.

“Baby, it’s so late,” You said quietly, walking up from behind,

Alerted by your voice, Mark lifted his head. “(Y/n)-ah? When did you get here?”

“Just now,” You replied quickly. “I was worried about you.”

You gently lifted his chin, to get a better look at him. Despite his room's dimmed lights, you could still see the dark circles under his eyes. 

Mark brushed you off. “Babe, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”

He always told you that, and it always lit this flame of anger in you. Usually, you refrained from saying anything for fear of causing him more stress. But you cared too much to hold it that night.

“How can you tell me that when you've been working nonstop this past month without a break?” Your voice wavered. “You probably haven’t gotten any sleep, have you?”

Mark looked down, unable to respond. So you took matters into your own hands and started by shutting his computer off. You ignored his poor attempts to protest and brought him to his bed.

“I’m going to stay here to make sure you get some actual rest,” You asserted before laying down beside him.

Even though Mark knew you were being serious, he couldn’t help but smile. This stern side of you was refreshing, and a reminder that there were people who cared about his well-being.

“Will you stay the whole night then?” Mark asked softly, reaching for your hand.

You didn’t expect him to say that, as you've never slept over at his dorm before. Honestly, you didn’t hate the idea. And if it meant getting your boyfriend’s mind off work for the rest of the night, then you’d say yes.

When you nodded, the two of you moved closer to get more comfortable. And for the first time in weeks, Mark finally got some sleep.

✎__________________________________________________________

RENJUN

It was one of those days when Renjun had a small gray cloud of rain over him. Maybe because work has been hectic lately, or maybe he was suffering from a lack of confidence. Whatever it was, sometimes Renjun just felt down. Fortunately for him, you were determined to cheer him up.

Before going to his dorm, you stopped by the grocery store and picked up a few things for hot pot. Renjun’s eyes immediately lit up when he saw you even bought his favorite shrimp balls. Since some of his members were there, you guys all ate together.

Aside from dinner, Renjun locked the two of you inside his bedroom. Then he would vent to you about what’s been bothering him lately. Sitting beside him on the bed, you would hold his hand in yours and listen the whole time. When it came to responding, you gave the best encouragement you could and reassured him that his feelings were valid.

8:30 p.m. was when you usually left to go back home. But this time, Renjun tugged on your wrist when you made a move to get up.

“Stay, please?” He spoke in a tiny voice. 

You were a bit taken aback because this was the first time he’s asked you to stay over. The two of you could get pretty shy about these things. But there was none of that from Renjun tonight.

So you nodded and let him pull you back into the bed to lay down next to each other. He hummed as your fingers stroked his hair.

“Thank you. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you,” He’d say a few moments later. In response, you smiled and kissed him on the forehead. 

“Of course. I’ll be here for as long as you need.”

✎__________________________________________________________

JENO 

He and the Dreamies had just returned from their tour in Japan. Even though he was gone for a few days, the time was too long for Jeno. So when you came over to cook a welcome-home meal for him and the Dreamies, the boy refused to leave your side.

Throughout dinner, you were practically glued to Jeno’s lap. His arms remained securely wrapped around your stomach, as his chin rested atop your shoulder. Any teasing from his members went largely ignored. Even when it was late, Jeno didn’t want you to go home.

“I spent all week missing you. Can’t you stay a little longer?” He avoided the stern look you were giving him.

The sensible part of you said to just go home like you usually did. Jeno’s slept over at your apartment a few times. But you’ve never stayed in his dorm, afraid that it’d be weird with his members also being there. However, they had all retired to their rooms by now. And it wasn’t like you had any plans the next day.

Your eyes dropped down to the boy who was playing with your fingers with a pout. Though you had a hard time expressing it, you had missed him just as much as he did. There was no harm in staying over one night, right?

You let out a pretend sigh, “Okay…I guess I can stay.”

“Really?” The boy’s eyes lit up, surprised that you said yes.

Since you didn’t have any clothes to wear to sleep, Jeno happily lent you one of his shirts and a pair of sweatpants. His eye smile appeared when you waddled out of the bathroom. 

“I look ridiculous, Jeno-ssi.” 

“No, you look cute,” He stood up to take you in his arms. “I should just have you wear my clothes from now on.”

You shook your head with a smile, and let him carry you to his bed. From there, you guys would lay in each other’s arms, talking about miscellaneous things until you guys fell asleep.

After the first time, Jeno knew that he wanted to sleep with you in his arms for the rest of his life. This was where he belonged.

✎__________________________________________________________

HAECHAN

A smile crept on his lips when he heard you yawn beside him. Since the holiday season was busy for both of you this year, you took this single free night to have an at-home movie date. And by at-home date, you were at the 127 dorm, cuddled up with your boyfriend in the living room.

As the ending credits of the movie you just watched played on the screen, you sat up to check your phone. It was pretty late. You then glanced out the window and gasped when you saw how much snow was flying everywhere. The storm had just started when you arrived, but you didn’t expect it to be still going on. And you didn’t have a car, which meant you’d have to walk home because the buses were most likely done for the day.

You then glanced at Haechan who already read your mind. “Well, it looks like you’re snowed in. I guess you won’t be leaving tonight,” He cutely shrugged. 

“Of course, you’re happy about that.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He pouted in response, “Whyyy? This means we can spend more time together!”

If anyone else saw how clingy and cute Haechan was around you, the boy would never hear the end of it. You shook your head at the boy and reached for the remote. 

“Should we watch another movie then?” You suggested. 

The male smirked and looked at you with a teasing glint. “I was thinking we should try something else.”

Before any suspecting questions could be asked, Haechan grabbed you by the neck and pulled you into a passion-filled kiss. You let out a gasp, only to be swallowed by the pressing of his lips on yours. The initial shock quickly faded as you felt yourself melting into his touch. However, your eyes opened as soon as they closed. You forced yourself to pull away, earning a whine from the boy.

“You do realize any of your Hyungs can walk out this very second, right?” You pointed out while trying to catch your breath. 

There have been too many embarrassing times when someone caught the two of you in moments like this. All thanks to Lee Haechan, of course.

“Don’t worry about them. They’re all sleeping.”

He kept his hand on the nape of your neck, ready to kiss you again. But just as your noses touched, the sound of shuffling footsteps disrupted the two of you. 

“Hey, Donghyuck are you still up?” 

You instantly motioned for the boy to get off you and sat up to see Mark coming from the hallway.

“Oh (Y/n), I was wondering if you had gone home yet. It’s pretty messy outside,” He scratched his head.

You nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it is.”

“What were you guys doing?” He asked. Haechan rolled his eyes, annoyed by the rapper. 

“Before you interrupted us, (Y/n) and I were—” 

“Deciding on what movie to watch next!” You cut in, afraid of what he was going to say.

Haechan shot you a “why did you do that?” look. You sent him a glare in response. Mark, on the other hand, remained clueless as ever.

“Really? Has (Y/n) seen Elf yet? You should totally watch that,” The elder walked around to sit at the end of the couch. “Do you mind if I join you guys?”

Before you could answer, Johnny and Jaehyun came into the room.

“Yah, are you watching Christmas movies without us?”

You laughed nervously and turned to your boyfriend who was dumbfounded by this turn of events. Things certainly didn’t go as he had wanted them to. You mouthed a “sorry,” as the other members started to join you guys. He sighed in defeat and rested his head on your shoulder.

And that’s how the first time you stayed at Haechan’s dorm ended up turning into a Christmas movie marathon with the 127 members. Not as romantic as he would’ve liked. But it was certainly memorable.

✎__________________________________________________________

JAEMIN

Over the past week, your roommates have been at each other’s throats. As someone who was a little afraid of conflict, you chose to stay out of the situation. But their screaming at each other nonstop prevented you from getting any sleep. They remind you of when you lived with your parents who fought all the time. You tried to hold it together, repeatedly telling yourself that you should be used to this by now. Yet no matter how strong you pretended to be, it wasn’t enough. 

One night, you decided that you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew it was late, but you were so desperate right now. After grabbing your phone and wallet, you snuck out of your home. Not that you think they would’ve noticed if you had left in front of them. They probably wouldn’t care and continue blaming each other for things.

Jaemin would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when you showed up at his apartment at 11:30 p.m. But he was more concerned when he saw the clear distress on your face.

“I-I’m sorry.” You huffed out cold air. “But can I stay here for the night?”

It only took him one look at your watery eyes to tell you were on the verge of breaking down. Of course, he welcomed you with open arms. Not many words were exchanged as you guys settled in his living room. 

“Sunji and Juran haven’t made up yet?” He asked in his usual low voice, as he sat beside you on the couch. You noticed that he sounded deeper in the nighttime.

You shook your head despondently. “At this point, I’m waiting for one of them to move out.”

A short silence followed your words. Jaemin watched as your eyes fixated on the mug of green tea he gave you.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” You mumbled, before finally taking a sip of the warm beverage.

A small smile stretched across his lips. You always kept up this wall around your friends and family. Part of him was grateful because he was the only person who saw your vulnerable side.

“You did well (Y/n)-ah,” He cooed, reaching his hand to pet your head. “Thank you for coming to me.”

Calmed by his touch, you glanced up at those adorable eyes of his that were overflowing with admiration. In the next second, you let him take you into his embrace. The two of you stayed cuddled on the couch, watching some k-dramas to get your mind off things. Every so often he’d press kisses into your hair, which made you snuggle into him further.

You guys only started dating two months ago, and have never spent the night at each other’s places before. He was probably tired from work, and yet he let you in without question. If this wasn’t love, what was it?

✎__________________________________________________________

CHENLE

It was just another one of those days where you were at Chenle’s house keeping him company. His mother and aunt weren’t in Korea at the moment, so you guys had the whole place to yourself. The both of you agreed it was nice, after not seeing each other for the past few days.

Currently, you guys were napping on the couch. Napping was a more recent thing for the two of you. Mainly because he was always tired from work, and for you it was school. Though you were hesitant about the idea at first, you started to love these moments with your boyfriend. They were those few chances you got to relax and recharge.

Chenle secretly loved when you guys did this as well. Especially when you nestled your head into the crook of his arm, while your arm rested on his chest. Often he found himself staring down at you, admiring your features. It was always the hardest when you guys had to break out of such a comfortable position. And today, he really didn’t want to.

You had woken up first, realizing you had slept much longer than you intended. But when you began to sit up, Chenle brought you back down.

“Don’t go,” He said with his eyes still closed. “It’ll be too dangerous to walk home when it’s so late.”

“It’s only nine,” You murmured. “And I have university tomorrow.”

His hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you closer to him. “Your class isn’t until noon, and you have your school bag here.”

 You weren’t sure how he could speak so coherently when he was half asleep. But he was right. His place was also closer to the college you went to.

“Just stay.” 

His words were simple but persuasive. So you returned to your previous place in his arms and closed your eyes. 

“Okay.”

Chenle would smile, pleased to have won you over. He placed a small kiss on your knuckles before letting sleep consume him.

✎__________________________________________________________

JISUNG

For the first time, Jisung bought an apartment and was able to move out of the dorm. It took some convincing from his manager and the members. But Jisung was ready for this. After all, he wasn’t a 14-year-old kid anymore.

With that said, Jisung and you decided to take the next level into your relationship. By “next level,” that meant spending an entire night together. Jisung was quite excited because he would get to spend some quality time with you. However, things didn’t go quite as he expected.

Everything was normal up until you finished your third movie and it was time to sleep. Despite being together for almost two years, you guys were as awkward as you were when you started dating.

“I can sleep on the couch…” You suggested.

Jisung instantly turned down that idea. “What? No, we can just sleep on my bed!”

So after some anxious rambling between the two of you, you eventually ended up in his room. The two of you would lay face to face on his bed, with his comforter covering you up to your necks. 

“Not too bad, right?” Jisung chuckled nervously.

You nodded, “Yeah, we’re okay.”

The two of you would spend the rest of the night giggling like little kids and exchanging kisses under the covers. Overall, 10/10 experience!

✎__________________________________________________________

[ateriblewriter]

A Sign (q.h)

Family is Everything

Series Masterlist

Requests

requested ✅

Enjoy!

Tonight felt different. The whole day felt off. Quinn left earlier than normal, leaving you to deal with a very upset little girl who never got to say goodbye to her daddy. In order to get Hattie settled down you promised to bring her to the game with you that night. And because you couldn’t find a babysitter for baby Beck, you had to bring him too, this was quickly becoming a family affair. On top of that, you wore the wrong shoes and stepped in a puddle and then the check engine light came on in the car. This night could only get better from here. After all, it was a hockey night.

At the game everything seemed to get better. There were no major meltdowns for either child. That odd feeling you had earlier almost completely dissipated, when you felt the little tug on the sleeve, making your eyes snap forward to focus on the game again.

You didn’t see what initially happened to get everyone in your area standing, gasping and cheering for the ensuing battle. You had seen the majority of the game, your main focus on your two babies. So it was a bit of a surprise when you looked up and saw a sea of blue jerseys going on the attack, fists were flying and a brawl was breaking out.

“Mommy, where’s daddy?” You could hear the anxiety in your child’s voice. It always scared her when someone went down, especially if it was one of her uncles or her father. You watched as the trainer was brought over to the player in a blue jersey who was still in obvious pain on the ice.

“Hattie, daddy’s.” You have a dark feeling starting to form in your stomach, your eyes dancing around trying to spot the familiar number 43 on the ice. It was  becoming very evident that he was nowhere to be seen, except for. Oh no.

You could hear your oldest rattling off a million and one questions about the scrum and the player that you were one hundred percent was Quinn. Not feeling bad for one second you drown out the child’s questions.

“He’s not getting up. Why isn’t he getting up.” You whispered hoping no one would hear your trembling voice. Quinn was still sprawled out on the ice. There wasn’t anything you could do about it. Why wasn’t he getting up? He always got up. A dark cloud of what ifs started circling inside your mind.

“Mama?” The scared little voice of your crying daughter brought you out of the trance you were in. Hattie was an empath and could pick up those kids of negative feelings. You quickly bottled your own emotions, to keep her calm.

“Look Trixie girl. Daddy’s okay.” The two of you watched Quinn get up with help and make his way down the tunnel. Before he completely disappeared looked up at you, gave you a slight nod and tugged on his left ear twice, a gesture whose meaning was only known to your little family. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. He was going to be fine., but it was clear that he wasn’t going to going back into the game.

Towards the end of the game, you got a message from your husband telling you he was still getting checked out and it would be a while and that you just take the kids home.

“Daddy!” Hattie jumped her father as soon as he entered the door to the modest home you lived in. It was late and although her nerves were soothed after Quinn indicated he was okay, the small child refused to go to bed until she had a chance to inspect Quinn for herself.

“What’s the damage? You were down for awhile.” You finally got your husband to yourself once he laid Hattie down for bed.

“I was only down for a few minutes. Nothing major.” He tried to down play the unexpected hit. He just wanted to relax and not talk.

“Quinn.”

“Y/N, darling, my love I’m okay. Just a couple of bumps and bruises. They want me out for a couple of games.” Quinn shrugged wrapping himself around you, wincing as he did so. He would deal with his issues another day.

Please let me know what y’all think! Any thoughts, comments, or complaints! Also if you have any requests for the this little family, request away. I haven’t introduced the third child yet.

[taiyaki-translations]

Murmurs of Flourishing Blossoms - 1

Season: Winter Characters: Kaoru, Mika, Tatsumi, Midori, Arashi, Koga, Hiiro, Shinobu Translator: taiyaki-translations

<One day in late January, inside the ES Building>

Kaoru: Hope everyone's doing well... Or um, if you're not, that's okay too...? 

(Honestly, why am I so nervous? I’m going overseas with Anzu-chan soon, but it’s just normal work so I don’t need to be so tense.) 

Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to make a mistake right at the beginning. Hm? It’s better than making a mistake in the middle of the shoot and having to start over again? 

Haha, that’s true. Then, let’s hurry and start filming again. 

Yahoo~ Good morning everyone, I’m UNDEAD’s Hakaze Kaoru. Surely us meeting like this is a pleasant surprise for you~?

All of you in front of the screen probably have a lot of questions, but let’s keep up the mystery for a little longer. For now, just follow along— 

As you can see, this is the ES Building that was built to support idols and is home to some well known agencies. 

When I just graduated, there was a sense of freshness in working here as a professional, but unfortunately, I seem to spend more time doing jobs outside. I came here again today for overseas work. 

I’m really looking forward to experiencing the charms of different countries. What will be the destination of this trip and which idols will be accompanying me? You’ll find out soon ♪

Kaoru: Haha, was that opening okay~? There was a small hiccup at the beginning, but I think we got enough material. 

Now it’s time to film the gathering scene of the idols. It seems both Takamine-kun and Kagehira-kun are a bit shy, so I’ll need to work twice as hard as a reliable senpai who often appears on variety shows. 

Of course, Anzu-chan, you can also rely on me as much as you want. It’s relatively easy for us to finish the filming, but since you’ll also be preparing for the exhibition overseas, you have to make sure you get enough rest. 

The exhibition that that photographer asked us to model for is the same one you’re preparing for, right? 

A large exhibition held in Paris every year, where various works of art, including fashion and photography, are gathered in one place… You can say it’s a recent hot topic in the fashion and art worlds. 

So you want to go there to show the world the charm of idols? Haha, that’s just like you, Anzu-chan.

<Meanwhile...>

Arashi: Mika-chan, I prepared a travel skincare set for you. Jet lag or environmental changes can easily affect your skin. You have an important photoshoot, so don’t forget to use it.

Mika: Ngah~

Arashi: Are you listening properly? Don’t get too excited thinking about seeing your Oshi-san. 

Phew, it can’t be helped. I can’t stand the thought of you ruining your face, so I’ll send you a message to remind you later.

Koga: Why is that guy not here yet? How long does it take to film an opening? 

Tatsumi: Koga-san seems to really care for his unitmates. You knew that Kaoru-san would be here so you came to see him off, right?

Koga: Ha? Aren’t ya my roommate? Can’t it be me wantin’ to see you off?

Hiiro: The other two members of ALKALOID were busy and couldn’t come, but I’m really happy that I’m able to see off Tatsumi-senpai together with Oogami-senpai! Next time we go for a drive with Tatsumi-senpai, let’s invite Oogami-senpai too!

Midori: I’m so depressed… I wanna die…

Shinobu: Midori-kun, you haven’t even left yet and you’re already wilting! Come on, cheer up!

Midori: Ugh… I’m nervous about going abroad, my social battery is drained, and the atmosphere around me is so intense, it feels like the spirit of Morisawa-senpai is right next to me…

Shinobu: Please don’t call Morisawa-dono a ghost. Morisawa-dono will be frightened.

Midori: Huh? That’s the part you’re commenting on? Oh, Anzu-san is here.

Kaoru: It’s really lively in here. Is everyone packed? The interview segment is starting soon ♪

Koga: The way you’re talkin’ is really gross. We ain’t little kids, why are you talkin’ all gently?

Hiiro: Hmm? Oogami-senpai, earlier you were asking when Kaoru-senpai was coming. Why are you so mad at him now?

Arashi: Ufufu, that’s just how boys are. 

Anyway, it looks like filming is going to start soon. Mika-chan, do your best~

Mika: Nnah~ Anzu-chan, are you startin’ with me? What’s the most important thing I’m bringin’ ?

The only thing that I can think of right now is that skincare set Naru-chan kept talkin’ about earlier…

Oh right, I brought along a gift fer Oshi-san! ‘Cause I'm goin’ this time fer work, I probably can't stay fer long, so I haven't told Oshi-san about it yet. Maybe I can give him a nice surprise…!

Midori: The most important thing for me is… probably my mascot characters. If I don’t get healing from them, I might die on the plane…

Tatsumi: Fufu, I recently received a “traffic safety” amulet (1) from my unitmates in ALKALOID, but I didn’t think it would come in handy so soon. This is probably the last thing I would want to lose during my trip.

Midori: (Eh? That amulet… I don’t think that was the reason why they gave it…)

Hiiro: Umu, if Tatsumi-senpai needs more, we can definitely give you as many as you like! How about putting one in your car?

Midori: (It would probably be better to leave it in the car. I think both the driver himself and his passengers will definitely need it…) (2)

Shinobu: Oho, I think Midori-kun’s face is quite expressive, it's interesting to look at.

Kaoru: Hmm… If you want to go abroad, things like your passport and wallet are more important than anything else. In that sense, I’m a practical person.

Koga: I thought you’d say somethin’ like “Of course, the most important thing is myself.” If you had said that, I’d have been angry.

Kaoru: Aww, Koga-kun’s being awfully clingy today. Is it perhaps… me going overseas is making Wan-chan feel lonely?

Koga: Who gives a crap about you!?

Tatsumi: Haha, you all get along well. In any case, we are going to an unfamiliar place, so it will be safer if we stay together as a group.

Arashi: That’s right. Everyone, take care of yourselves, okay? Otherwise, I’ll worry…

Translation Notes: 1. Japanese amulets (or omamori) can usually be bought from Shinto shrines or Buddhist temples and are said to give various forms of good luck and protection if you keep it on your person. Usual types of omamori include ones that promote wealth or good health, helping one get good grades, helping one find love, and of course, traffic safety. 2. A reference to Tatsumi's 4* feature scout story, An Appraiser Appears?

Directory | Next

[i-live-in-spite]

Too late

Summary: You feel in love too late Pairing: Spencer X GN! reader Genre: Angst/hurt Tw/Cw: Unrequited love, semi buzzed/drunk Emily, Penelope, and JJ, drinking, slight cursing, slight talk of sh(drinking to ignore the pain), if i missed one please tell me Word Count: 882

____ The flowers in your hands seem heavy when you hear the laughter from Spencer’s apartment. You could already tell who was there, Spencer and his ex Max. The last time you heard of her, she and Spencer had a pretty bad break up. He tried to make it seem like it wasn’t that bad but you knew Spencer better than that. The day that relationship ended you realized you never wanted to see Spencer sad again, but he was still going through the break up. How could you ask him out straight after? You couldn’t bring yourself to knock, but your feet were stuck to the floor. Light fills your eyes as Spencer opens the door to walk Max down to her car, their night coming to an end it seems. “Oh, hey. What are you doing here?” His voice was filled with confusion and he looked down at the flowers in your hands. Max looked at the two of you, she smiled and offered her hand to you. “I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” You just stare at her hand not being able to find your voice in the mingst of you choking on a sob. You practically throw the flowers into Spencer’s hands, mumbling something about how it is for his mom. “Oh, thank you. I’m su-” You didn’t let him finish before turning on your heels and rushing to your car. You’re hardly outside the building before your choked sob fights its way out. You quickly get into your car and cry, luckily you parked down the road so you didn’t have to see Max being walked out by Spencer. You don’t know how long you had been crying but you know that Spencer tried to call you 5 times. You turned off his notifications and didn’t dare to check his text messages. After finally having most of the tears stopping you called Emily, knowing her and the girls have gone out. She picks up on the 2nd ring, knowing that you would never call unless you were really in need. “Sugar? What’s wrong?” You can hear the slight slur of Emily’s words to know she and the girls have been drinking at least for 2 hours or so. You could feel another sob start to build, “Spencer is back with Max, I was too late Emily. I really fucked up. I was too late” Emily must have had you on speaker phone because you hear Penelope booing Spencer. “Oh hunny, don’t even think about him. You should come meet us. We’re at that new bar on mainstreet?” JJ's voice cuts through the crowd. But you didn’t know how many people you could deal with right now or if you could even drink without hurting yourself. “I think I have some wine at my house, why don’t we go there? Plus my heels are starting to hurt my feet.” You were grateful for Pen and her sensing your need for a more intimate drinking setting. “Yea..yea that works fine. I can also run by the store and pick up any smaller drinks y’all want or more wine before I start to drink.” The girls cheer and y’all say your goodbyes before you start your small adventure. — Even with the extra stop of the liquor store you beat the girls home, Penelope gave everyone a key to her home a few years ago after she got shot. She wanted to make sure the team could go in without a hassle or if she needed something one of the team could grab it. You look around for her pre-existing wine, by the time you get it uncorked and into the glass the girls walk in. Penelope was the first to wrap her arms around you, pressing your face into her chest. Typically you would say something or make a flirty joke but all you could do was wrap your arms around her and listen to her as she tries to comfort you. “I’m so sorry that it didn’t work out, did they say they were back together?” Emily’s voice breaks you out of your trance, you shake your head. “No but, they were laughing and they just..sounded so happy. I just can’t believe he would let her back in, how could he? After all the tears.” You grab your wine, trying to drink in sips to not over do it. “I don’t know, I can ask him tomorrow if you would like?” You deny JJ’s offer just wanting to forget the night and have fun with your friends.

----

Spencer couldn’t sleep that night, torn between the rekindled love with Max but seeing the hurt in your eyes. Of course he liked you, you were one of the greatest friends he ever had. He knows the flowers weren’t for his mom, you would have sent them directly to her. His mom loved receiving gifts from the whole team, but nothing made her quite happy than seeing her gifts from you. Spencer for once in his life, doesn’t know the answer. You haven’t answered any of his calls or texts, but he saw the pictures from Pen’s social media. You look like you're having fun but he sees the look in your eyes, the hurt he caused

__

I got the idea from @incognit0slut, it's a little all over the place but angst is not my string suit. But I hope I did your idea justice <3

[sujuyeonn]

Sujuu!

It's fanfic writer appreciation day so here I am in your askbox :D

Thank you so much for writing and sharing IWATIFI with us! You have no idea how often I reread it, and how much more I love it with each read. I know I haven't gotten around to commenting on the last chapter yet (and I plan to, it's halfway written so far but life is lifeing) but the short version is: I absolutely love it. Just a little bit more than the rest of the fic though I probably shouldn't have favourites lol.

I also want to acknowledge how hard you've worked on it. It probably wasn't easy writing a long multichaptered fic while maintaining the pacing and plot consistency, but you still posted regularly. And IWATIFI was one of the few things I really looked forward to back when things weren't looking so great in my life- I would often eagerly wait to wake up to that one email from ao3. Well, that and the email notifying me that you replied to my comments haha.

I really appreciate you for being such an amazing writer and human. I hope you have a great day! 💜

lume!! omg hello i can’t believe i’ve taken like,, a week to answer this lovely message.

happy late fanfic writer appreciation day to you too!! :D you made my entire week with this and i’ll probably keep thinking about it til the end of the year lol. hearing that you reread iwatifi is both a blessing and a curse; i want to send you tons of hugs!! but i also reread a few chapters lately and my god, you can really see how my writing progressed throughout. currently afflicted with self critical author cringe😫 that said, i absolutely support ch15 being the favourite because it’s probably my favourite too (… i may have made a whole ranking list at some point). and don’t worry about taking a while to comment! i totally don’t expect it. am super hyped to see your thoughts though, your username in my inbox always makes me scream into the void <3

‘thank you’ isn’t adequate enough because i feel appreciated beyond words. and yeah, iwatifi was a first-fic-ever-so-let’s-experiment-with-slow-burn kind of challenge, i definitely don’t think i could write it again if i started now (plus, i’m working on fics that i think will be way more fun). i’m genuinely so touched to hear that you looked forward to updates and replies. your comments managed to catch me at pretty low points too, for which i’ll be forever grateful since they never failed to cheered me up. hope things are going better for you too :)

i appreciate YOU endlessly for being one of the kindest people ever <3 (and one of my favourite commenters but shhh don’t let anyone know) have a great day!! 🧡

[themadsquirrel09]

Find you ☆ Chapter 2

👉 Click here to go to chapter 1! 🌌

👉 On AO3 chapter 5 is already out 👽

Fandom ☆ South Park

Ships ☆ KenMan ♡ KenEric (Eric Cartman x Kenny McCormick), Clybe (Bebe StevensxClyde Donovan) and Creek (Tweek TweakxCraig Tucker). There might be some glimpses of other ships.

Characters ☆ Kenny McCormick, Eric Cartman, Tweek Tweak.

Rating ☆ M

Warnings ☆ Swearing, violence, fluffiness. They are aged up here. It starts when they are 14 but happens mostly when they are 18, at the last year of school. 

Chapter summary ☆ At school, Kenny isn't feeling so good and Tweek stays with him; at night, he gets an unexpected call.

☆ 1013 words ☆

With love: (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Stan

I have the first class with Tweek, which is nice because we have become close with the years.

“Hey man, are you feeling better?” He asks as the teacher goes on about who knows what.

“Not really, I feel worse… but don't say a word to Kyle!” He shakes a little harder than usual.

“You know I won't!”

“Yeah, sorry. It's just that I hate it when he tells me what to do.”

“I know, hanging out with him can be way too much pressure.” I smile. Fine choice of words. “Don't you want to go to the infirmary?”

“I'll be fine! What's your next class?”

“Chemist.”

“Oh, I have English. See you at lunch, then.” I walk away, but he catches up to me.

“I’ll just skip that, man. You don’t look so good.” We end up going to Stark's pond.

“Are you sure about this, isn’t it too much pressure?” I say, mocking his motto, he flips me off and I snort. It is still funny that he got that from Craig.

“This is better than school,” says Tweek, looking at the nature.

“Damn right,” I lay down. “I’ll try to sleep, maybe that’s all I need.” Tweek takes a sweater out of his backpack and puts it over me.

“Aww, that’s sweet man. Thank you for staying with me.” He smiles. “If Craig ever gets too stupid, dump him and choose me instead.” I wink at him and he looks nervous for a second, just before he remembers I like to tease him like that.

“If you can joke around, then I guess you are not feeling that bad, right?” I feel like shit, but joking around cheers me up a bit.

I sleep for a couple of hours, until it starts getting too cold, so we go home. If I’m lucky, no one will be around. Inside the house, Cartman calls. That’s weird, he usually just texts or sends endless voice messages.

“How is it going?”

“Everything is so shitty today I want to kick myself in the nuts.” I laugh. He has his unique way to curse and I have grown fond of it. “But whatever, whatever! Soon it will be different. You’ll see, Kenny.”

“Oh, yeah?” But lately it feels like everything is out of control. Maybe it always was. “How so?”

“Don’t be an asshole, Kenny, if you push me I’ll tell you and you’ll ruin the surprise!”

“Ok then, I’ll hang up,” I say calmly.

“Don’t. Just tell me what’s new.”

“Well,” I have to think about something that doesn’t have to do with my shitty life. "Oh, right! Stan dumped Wendy."

“You mean that Wendy dumped Stan? That's not new!” He answers with a scoff, a grin grows on my face.

“No, idiot! I said Stan dumped Wendy! He did it.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“That's fucking awesome.”

“Yes, I was sick of them. Stan gets all dark and goth,” I say, finally laying in bed.

"Screw that hippie bitch!”

“You are just pissed at her because you never got her to like you.” I hear him groan.

“Whatever, Kenny. How's Stan?” I guess it is that kind of stuff that makes me think he has changed.

“He was crying and laughing at the same time. It creeped me out! But I think he will be better soon.”

“He will find another hippie, if he doesn't then he still has his jew.” I hum. “Are you still sick?”

“Just a little.”

"God damn it Kenny, I told you not to stay out so late!” I chuckle.

"You can’t tell me what to do, but I will be fine. Don’t worry."  

“If I was there, I would just make you stay home for a while.”

“I’d like to see you try,” I purr, teasing and there's something delightful in his reply, between a scoff and a laugh.

"Kenny." The way he says it sends a shiver of satisfaction through me. “You flirty son of a bitch. What about you, are you dating someone new?”

“Not really. Got bored with the last one.”

“Weren’t you trying that polyamours crap?”

“Yes, I just. I don’t know. Maybe dating is not for me.” 

“And what about sex?”

“I’m too tired to think about that.”

“What. Is it Kenny the one I’m talking to? Did you die and got replaced by an evil clone?”

“Shut up, Cartman. You are being a fucking asshole.” He snickers.

“No, you are an asshole, Kenny. Get some rest and we will talk tomorrow, ok?” 

“Oh, ok.” I’m too tired anyway, so I fall asleep wondering what surprise is he talking about.

I wake up facing the window, the sun is shining and I feel better. I think about Cartman, and when I look at my cell phone, I see that he is calling. I pick up, but I can barely talk.

“Kenny! What the fuck?”

“Huh?”

“Are you still sick?”

“What. No. Better,” I mutter.

“You are late for school! Fucking run.” He hangs up. I look at the clock and shit! I’m half an hour late! I usually wouldn’t care, but I want to graduate this year, so I run as fast as I can, but when I’m getting to the classroom, I slide on a wet tile. I know my head is about to burst with a stair edge. I have died so many times, why is it still scary?

As I fall, my life goes through my eyes until I remember this morning call. 

Wait. 

How did Eric know I was late for school?

Something stops me right before the impact.

Prev ☆ Next

[imagineabuttercream]

Joe's Internet Friend (Sugg x Reader)

"Hello, love.", Joe messaged you after a long night of editing.

"You're up late." you replied, grabbing your phone and snuggling into your blanket. He was in London and you were in the states leaving an 8 hour time difference between the two of you.

"Just finished editing a 'More Likely To' video with the lads and I don't really want to post it anymore." Joe messaged back, snuggling into his own bed.

"Why not?" you asked. Late night texts had become a thing between the two of you. You had met Joe online years ago when he was just starting on you-tube and you'd become great friends.

"It just reminded me of how many things I'm not doing right. I'm the least likely to get married. The most likely to get drunk and lost. The most likely to stay single." Joe text you, adding "fml."

"Oh, love. You're not 40. You have all the time in the world to settle down." You replied. "You're a brilliant, sweet, caring, talented, committed, creative soul that will find those things in your own time."

"You always make me feel better." he text back, slowly falling asleep.

"Anytime, sweetheart." you replied. When you didn't get a response you assumed he had finally fallen asleep. "Sweet dreams, sleepy boy."

When Joe woke up the next day, he read back over your messages and decided to post the video.

The two of you had never met in person, but you'd become an almost daily fixture in each others lives. At times, you thought the slight anonymity is what made your friendship work so well. You weren't roommates or siblings or co-workers. You were there to talk to each other when you didn't want to or couldn't go to those in your actual lives. Up until this year you hadn't even exchanged phone numbers, sticking to instant messenger. You did enjoy getting the drunk voicemail messages from Joe, though. You two had even talked on the phone during long train rides or nights you were there to answer his drunk calls.

A few days later, you got off of work to find multiple texts and voicemail messages on your phone from Joe.

Joe - "Sometimes I wish you were here."

Joe - "I hate fucking time differences."

Joe - "I'm posting the video I told you about."

Joe - "Jack is yelling at me for being on my phone the whole night."

Joe - *Video of the boys taking shots*

Joe - "I'm so drunk."

Joe - "What do you call a fake noodle?"

Joe - "AN IMPASTA!"

You always felt bad when Joe would send the "I wish you were here" texts, but at the same time you felt the same way. The general drunk texting always made you laugh, though.

Voicemail 1 - "Yyyyy/nnnnnnnn. Call me when you get off work."

Voicemail 2 - "Stop yelling in my ear! I'm talking to my friend!" Joe seemed to be scolding someone around him. "Y/n, you've got to visit London. You'd get a kick out of hanging with the boys." The rest of the message was muffled by drunk cheers from people in the night club.

Voicemail 3 - "Y/n, Jack doesn't think you exist." Joe said, but you heard his hand muffle the phone right after. "Sorry, love. I'm not interested. You seem lovely, but I'm talking to my girlfriend." You had to listen a few times to make out the whole thing, but that's definitely what he said. "Love, I want to buy you a plane ticket." he said, clearly to you, before yelling to Jack to order an Uber.

You text Joe to see if he was still awake.

You - "I see that drunk Sugg made a showstopping appearance in my texts and messages tonight, lol. Make it home safe?"

Joe - "Y/n!"

You - "You're alive! Were you by chance eating Laffy Taffy?"

Joe - "How'd you know??"

You - "The pasta joke, lol. It's my favorite candy."

Joe - "No one laughed at my joke."

Joe - "What's your favorite flavor?"

You - "Aww, I laughed! Banana."

Joe - "Ew!"

Joe - "You would like the rankest one haha.

You - "It makes sense. I like you plenty."

Joe - "Oohhh you've got jokes!"

Joe - "You always laugh at my jokes."

Joe - "I want to buy you a plane ticket to come visit me."

You - "Of course I laugh at your jokes."

You - "And why weren't you interested in your admirer tonight?"

Joe - "How'd you know about that?"

Imagining the confused look on Joe's face made you laugh.

You - "Joe, you left me voicemail messages, haha. You used me as an excuse to blow her off!"

Joe - "Oh shit. I remember that! I didn't think you could hear me!"

You - "I don't think you're as sneaky as you think you are when you're drunk, love."

Instead of texting you back, Joe called you. "Can't handle typing?" you laughed into the phone.

"Just rather hear your voice is all. She was pretty but not my type." he replied, slurring every other word.

"I don't even know what your type is." you replied, still giggling a bit.

"I don't either. I just know when I see 'em. Or hear 'em." he replied. You could hear a few people in the background.

"Is that so?" you asked. "You guys still partying?"

"Nah. We're at the Maynard flat. I'm crashing with Conor." Joe replied, but you heard Conor talking in the background. *Is that who you've been texting all night?* "He's still giving me shit for being on my phone."

"Probably because you blew off a beautiful girl to drunk text your friend." you laughed.

"Maybe. I don't care. I'd rather talk to you anyways." he replied, sounding sleepier.

You thought about the voicemail and what he had just said. While it was amazing that you and Joe had grown so close, you felt bad. Were you the reason he wasn't dating?

"Well I'm flattered. Why don't you get some sleep, love." you replied.

"I don't want to." Joe drunkenly whined.

"Well you don't always get what you want." you laughed. "Come on. I need to go make dinner and you need sleep."

"Fine." Joe huffed. "Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Of course, love." you replied. "Sweet dreams."

"Night, love." Joe replied.

Sitting down to eat your dinner, you couldn't get your earlier thoughts out of your head. If you were really the reason Joe wasn't dating, you'd feel so guilty. On the one hand, if you and Joe lived in the same place...You would want to date him. On the other hand, he lives half way around the world and while you knew what he looked like from his videos, he had only ever seen a few pictures of you. "Maybe I'm just overthinking this." you said outloud.

"You never said anything about visiting! I want to buy you a plane ticket." Joe text you a while after your phone call ended.

You - "We'll have a sober conversation about it later, lol. Go to sleep, Sugg. <3"

Thankfully you had the next day off, so when you woke up to texts from Joe you could actually take the time to respond.

Joe - "Why do you put up with me, lol?"

Joe - "I drunkenly harassed you all night."

You - "Oh, hush. I love me some drunk Sugg. You always make me laugh. :)"

Joe - "If you say so, haha."

You - "How are you feeling?"

Joe - "Like proper shit. We drank so much last night. I need someone to make me breakfast."

You - "You think you'd learn, lol. I'm getting ready to cook breakfast, but I doubt it'd still be hot if I mailed you some."

Joe - "Don't tease me with food! You'll have to cook when you're here."

You - "You're not letting that go, huh?"

Joe - "I really want you to visit. You're one of my best friends as weird as that sounds."

You - "Joe, I have a question and I don't want you to get mad. Okay?"

Joe - "Of course, love. Shoot."

You - "If I'm totally wrong, feel free to tell me. Am I one of the reasons you don't really date?"

You held your breath after sending the text. When you didn't get a response right away, you went to the kitchen to cook your breakfast.

Joe - "I'd be lying if I said no, but I don't think I ever realized it until you just said it."

You - "Joe, just the other day you were upset that you didn't have a girlfriend. I feel horrible that I had any part in you being upset."

Joe - "No, no. You shouldn't feel bad at all. When I need someone to talk to, you're there. When I feel like shit about myself, you're there. When I feel alone, you're there. When I need a kick in the ass, you're there. Those are all things that a girlfriend would do. I guess I just never thought about it before."

You - "Love, maybe you should try finding those things in someone you want to love."

You - "I care about you so much, but I would hate it if you ended up regretting letting me get in the way of you finding happiness."

Joe - "I could never regret letting you into my life."

Joe - "I'm buying you a plane ticket. It's final. I really want you to visit and I think it would be good for both of us."

You - "I'll think on it, love. I can use my vacation time whenever I want, I just want to make sure this is for the best. <3"

Joe - "Well I'm buying it regardless. You can decide if you want to come."

You - "Stubborn."

Joe - "It's why you love me."

Joe - "This Friday at 8 pm your time."

Joe - "I'm going to wake Conor up so we can get food."

Joe - "Please come."

"That stubborn, stubborn boy." you said, looking at your phone. You quickly received an email confirmation of your tickets. 1 week, starting Friday. That meant you left in 2 days. If you were going. You wasted most of the day worrying about everything that could go wrong. What if once you met you didn't get along? At the end of the day you had emailed your work telling them you were taking vacation time, packed your suitcase, and cleaned your apartment.

You had talked to Joe a few times over the next two days, but mostly you were making sure you didn't leave any loose ends before leaving for your trip.

"You're absolutely sure about this?" You text him, waiting for your uber to show up.

Joe - "100%"

Joe - "Stop worrying, love. This has been a long time coming."

You - "Go to sleep so you can pick me up in half a day, lol."

Joe - "Make sure you sleep on the plane. If you don't, jet lag will hit you like a brick wall. Believe me, I've done it."

You - "I have sleeping meds at the ready. :)"

Joe - "Good girl. See you tomorrow, love."

Joe - "I really cant wait."

You - "Same. See you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Sugg."

Joe put his phone down and stared at the TV. "What's up, buddy?" Jack asked, sitting next to him. "You look a bit pale."

"Just a bit anxious, is all." Joe replied.

"What on earth has Joe Sugg anxious?" Jack teased him. Joe looked over at Jack but didn't answer. "Is it serious? What's going on?"

"Kind of. You know the girl that I'm always talking to when we're out?" Joe asked, running his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah. She's the girl you met through you-tube ages ago, right?" Jack replied.

"Going on 5 years." he said, looking down. "That's crazy. I've known her longer than I've known some of my best friends."

"So what are you anxious about?" Jack urged him to continue.

"I've always wanted her to visit and the other night she asked me if she was the reason I never date." Joe continued.

"That's a bit forward." Jack snarked.

"Nah, she's right. I just never realized it. So I told her and I think it freaked her out a bit. She told me that she didn't want to hold me back from finding happiness, but I've always wondered if she was it, you know? So I bought her a plane ticket and she'll be here tomorrow." Joe rambled quickly.

Jack smiled over at Joe not saying anything until he looked back at him. "You've got a mighty set on you, don't you?"

Joe laughed. "If that was true I would have bought her a ticket ages ago."

"So what's the plan?" Jack inquired.

"She's going to stay in mine for a week. I guess we'll see how things progress once we actually meet."

"Wait, you've never actually met in person?" Jack asked, a bit surprised.

"Nope. She's seen me in videos, obviously. We're friends on Facebook so I see pictures of her, but we've never actually met." Joe answered.

"Joe, what if she's really a 40 year old man?!" Jack gave him a weird look.

Joe busted up laughing. "She's not. We talk on the phone and I follow her on all of her social media. Snapchat filters can do a lot, but they can't turn a 40 year old man into a 25 year old woman." He continued to chuckle.

"Well, we'll all want to meet her." Jack said.

"That's up to her." Joe replied, standing up. "I'm gonna head to mine. Clean up the house and go to bed so I don't miss my alarm to pick her up."

"Need help cleaning? I'm still not on London time." Jack asked.

"If you want. Crash at mine, yah?" Joe replied.

"Let me grab a bag."

Jack and Joe cleaned the house for about an hour before crawling into the spare bed to fall asleep watching a movie.

After boarding the plane, you almost immediately took medicine and fell asleep. You woke up to eat and use the restroom once and then fell right back asleep. Feeling someone lightly shaking your shoulder, you realized a flight attendant was trying to wake you up. "Miss, we're getting ready to land."

"Thank you." you replied, sorting yourself out. You pulled a make-up wipe out to freshen your face up and you downed a water bottle.

"Joe!" Jack yelled, shooting out of bed. "I don't think your alarm went off!"

"What?!" Joe shot up. "Mate, we were supposed to leave 20 minutes ago." Joe grabbed his phone and pulled his clothes from the previous day back on.

"I'll order the Uber." Jack said, pulling his converse on. "He'll be here in 3."

Joe - "Running a tad late, we'll be there soon."

You - "I just landed. We aren't even at the gate yet. Take your time, nerd. Be safe, please."

Joe - "Of course, love."

Joe - "I'm so happy I'll get to actually hug you soon."

Joe - "That sounds weird, but I'm so glad you decided to come."

You - "It doesn't sound weird at all. <3"

Walking through the gate, you found a restroom to use before waiting for your bag. "You can do this." you said, looking in the mirror after washing your hands. Seeing the dark circles under your eyes and your hair in a messy bun, you started to get nervous. You pulled your make-up out and went to apply concealer before stopping yourself. If he expected you to look like a Disney princess after an 11 hour flight, then you didn't really care about what he thought.

You - "Waiting for my bag."

Joe - "Just parked. We'll see you soon."

You - "We'll?"

Joe - "Sorry, I forgot. Jack is with me. I hope that's okay."

You - "Of course. Just to warn you both, I'm a hot mess, lol.

Joe - "Impossible."

You - "You say that now. Look for the girl in Joggers and batman shirt."

Standing in front of the luggage carousel, you felt something small hit you in the back. looking around, you didn't see anything. When it happened again, you saw a mini banana Laffy Taffy sitting next to you on the floor. Your face immediately lit up and you turned to find the person who threw it.

"Really Sugg? You make me fly half a day and now you're assaulting me?" you laughed, seeing him walking up to you with Jack.

"You know I do it with love." he laughed, throwing his arms around you. He buried his face in your hair and held you tight to his chest. "I never thought I'd get to do this." he said, continuing to hold you in his arms.

"Ahem." Jack cleared his throat.

"Hi Jack." you said, peeking around Joe's shoulder.

"Nope. I'm not ready to let go." Joe said, refusing to let you leave the hug.

"Rude." jack teased.

Joe finally loosened his arms and just stared at you. You couldn't help but blush. "Stop being weird." you laughed, covering your cheeks, making him laugh too.

"I can't help it." Joe replied. "Feels a bit like Christmas."

"As you can see, Joe is just as cheesy in real life as he is in his videos." Jack interjected, reaching his hand out to shake yours.

"Oh, I already knew that." you laughed. "Nice to meet you, Jack."

"You too." Jack replied. You had been standing there so long that your suitcase was the only one left on the belt. "Is that your bag?" he asked, grabbing it when you nodded yes.

"You alright, Sugg?" you asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

Joe just stared at you for a moment. He stared at your eyes and then your lips. He stayed silent, but his mind was racing. He realized that he never wanted you to leave London. His feelings became very clear to him. "I'm great, love." he said kissing your forehead.

"You two could stand there with gooey eyes all day or we could go get breakfast. Who votes for breakfast?" Jack said, raising his hand.

"Alright, alright, ya big baby. Lets go get food." Joe laughed.

"Can I get changed before we go anywhere public?" you asked.

"You know what. Lets go back to Joe's and I'll go around the corner to get us food." Jack suggested.

"Sounds good to me." Joe said, looking to you.

"Works for me." you smiled at them both.

When you got to Joe's house, he showed you around and walked you to the room you'd be staying in. You kind of unpacked your bag and laid out the clothes you were going to wear for the day. Joe showed you the spare bathroom and told you where the shampoo and soaps were. "Call if you need anything." he said, placing another kiss on your forehead.

After letting the hot water of the shower wash away the airplane grime and muscle aches from sleeping sitting up, you went to get out but realized you hadn't grabbed a towel. "Joe!" you called into the hallway, trying to stay hidden behind the door.

"You alright?" Joe jogged down the hall.

"I'm fine." you laughed. "I just forgot a towel."

"One second." he said, walking to a cabinet and grabbing one. "Here, love." he said, handing you the towel.

"Thank you." you blushed, feeling a little exposed. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Take your time." Joe smiled and left you to get ready.

When you walked back to the living room, you stopped at the end of the hall, hearing Joe and Jack talk about you.

"Is she what you expected?" Jack asked Joe, amidst the noises of take-away containers opening.

"I don't know what I expected, but I know that she's way more than I could have imagined. I can now add beautiful and genuine to the list of things I know about her. The fact that she wore a batman shirt tells me she is absolutely who she says she is." Joe laughed.

"I expected her to be like, dressed up and girly." Jack laughed.

"I didn't at all." Joe replied, still chuckling. "I know her pretty well after 5 years."

"Are you glad you finally got her here?" Jack asked, mouth full of food and already knowing the answer from the look on Joe's face.

"No doubt. I'm pretty sure I love her." Joe answered.

"I can tell. Are you going to tell her?" Jack replied.

"MMmm, breakfast smells delicious." you said, entering the room.

"I got you coffee too." Jack said, handing you a cup.

"Thank you!" you replied. "Do we have any plans for today?" You asked, sitting next to Joe and taking the food container he handed you.

"That's up to you." Joe replied. He looked you up and down taking in your appearance. "You look beautiful, by the way."

"Aww, thank you, Sugg." You answered, blushing a bit. "Why is it up to me?"

"Well, the boys will all want to meet you." Jack said.

"Only if you want." Joe quickly added.

"I'm down for whatever you want to do." You replied, taking a bite of your food. "This is delicious, thank you."

"Well, then. I vote we go to ours." Jack said, finishing his food. "I am going to shower and change since this is what I wore last night."

"I need to as well. We rushed out of here so quickly, we just threw on our days old clothes." Joe laughed.

"Well, you both get ready and I'm going to finish my breakfast." You suggested, laying down after they had both left the room. You woke up to Joe sitting next to you running his fingers through your hair. "That feels good." You said, sitting up. "How long have I been out?"

"Not long, love. Jack's almost ready to go" Joe replied. "You can lay back down if you want."

"I'll fall back asleep." You laughed, stretching.

"It's Jack. You have some time to nap." Joe laughed, patting his thigh.

"Fine." you gave in, laying your head on his leg and letting your eyes close. You fell asleep quickly, feeling Joe resume his playing with your hair.

You woke back up to Joe loud whispering "Shut up! Don't wake her up."

"I'm up." you yawned. "Ready to go?" you asked, sorting your hair back out.

"We've been ready for a while." Jack laughed at you.

"Then why didn't you wake me up?" you asked, rubbing your eyes.

"You just looked too comfortable." Joe smiled at you. "You're quite cute when you're sleeping."

"Nerds, you should have woken me up." you scolded them. "Lets go." you stood up, going back to the spare room to grab your bag.

Joe followed you to make sure you were okay. "We really don't have to leave the house today if you don't want to." He said, sitting down on the spare bed.

"I want to." you walked up to him to stand between his legs and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I just needed to grab my purse."

Joe's smile went ear to ear and his eyes dropped to your lips. "I know I keep saying it, but I'm really glad you're finally here."

"Me too. Really." you smiled down at him. "Lets go. I want to meet your friends." you grabbed Joe's hand and pulled him out of the bedroom.

When you arrived at the Pieters/Maynard flat, everyone else had already arrived. Joe and Jack were greeted as usual, and Joe introduced you to the boys. "Finally we get to meet the mystery girl." Conor pulled you into a hug. Your afternoon/evening was pretty chill. You guys played games, drank, ate, watched a few movies, and talked. When it was getting pretty late, you decided to grab some water and hang out on the balcony.

"What are you doing out here, love?" Joe joined you.

"Sobering up a bit." you laughed, finishing your glass of water.

"The boys getting too rowdy for you?" Joe asked, coming to stand by you, leaning against the balcony wall.

"Not at all." you replied, pulling your sleeves over your hands. "Everyone has been very sweet, actually."

"I'm glad." Joe slurred a bit. "Are you cold?"

"Just a bit, but I'm fine. I love this weather." you answered, looking out over the city. Joe shifted to stand behind you and wrap his arms around your middle. "I'll add touchy feely to the 'drunk Sugg' attribute list." you laughed.

"Sorry." he said, starting to pull his arms back.

"Hey, come back." you fake whined. "I didn't say I didn't like it." you put your hands over his and laced your fingers together.

Joe rested his chin on your shoulder and held you tight against his body. "I think I'm just afraid I'm going to do something stupid to ruin this."

"You won't ruin it." you reassured him.

"I'm really afraid I might." Joe replied, turning you to face him. "I've wanted to do this since I saw you standing there at the airport." Joe said, capturing your lips in a brief kiss.

Going up on your tip toes to continue the kiss, you trailed your fingers up either side of Joe's neck. Joe's hands made their way down your sides to rest on your hips, his body pinning you to the balcony wall. When you finally broke apart you were both out of breath. "I told you you wouldn't ruin it." you said, snuggling your face under his chin.

Kissing the top of your head, Joe said "Lets go home, love."

After saying bye to the boys and making your way back to Joe's, you went to the spare room to get changed into your sleep clothes. You brushed your teeth and washed your face and plugged your phone into the charger. When Joe didn't come find you, you wandered the house looking for him. Knocking on his door, it opened to reveal Joe in his towel on the other side. "Come in, love. I'll get changed in the bathroom."

You climbed onto Joe's bed and waited for him to return. When he walked into the room with wet hair wearing just his sleep pants, you couldn't help but smile at the sleepy, tipsy boy. "Feel better?" you asked.

"Indeed. And seeing you laying there in my bed makes me really happy." He said, crawling to join you on the bed. "Stay with me?" he asked.

"That's the plan." you replied, shifting to scoot under the covers.

Joe joined you under the covers and opened his arms, telling you to snuggle up against him. "I know I keep saying this, but I can't believe you're actually here." one hand tangled it's fingers with yours and the other rested on the small of your back under your shirt. "Am I what you expected?" Joe asked.

"I feel like I already knew your mannerisms and such from your videos, but actually being able to hug you and look at you when I'm talking to you? It's so much sweeter than I could have guessed." you replied, hiding your face in Joe's chest.

"You're so much better with words than I am. You said that perfectly." Joe leant down to kiss your hair. "I had only seen pictures of you, but your personality comes across exactly the same in person. It's just harder to keep my hands to myself when you're flesh and blood standing in front of me." Joe's hand crept up your back a bit.

"We'll have to have a sober conversation about that later." you laughed. Joe slowly removed his hand from underneath your shirt and placed it back on your clothed back. "Joe." you said, lifting your head and scooting up to face him. "I wasn't scolding you, silly boy." you dipped down to softly kiss his lips.

"I just get told a lot that I'm too much. Too touchy or too loud." Joe replied between kisses.

"I've never thought that." you said, kissing up his jaw and down his neck. "I just meant that we'll have to talk about what this really is and what we both want it to be, but I don't want to have that conversation right now." you said, sitting up to straddle Joe's middle.

"We don't have to talk about it right now, but I already know what I want." Joe said, sitting up and running his hands up your sides under your shirt.

The next morning you woke up laying across Joe's chest. You could feel his fingers tracing shapes up and down the naked skin of your back. You laid there for quite a while, thinking on how this was going to work. You didn't regret sleeping with him and you'd be willing to do whatever it took to be with him if it's what he wanted.

"Mornin', love." Joe said, smiling down at you.

You adjusted how you were laying to hold yourself up on your elbows. "Good morning." you said, ducking down to kiss him.

"Am I allowed to say it now?" Joe ran his hands up and down your sides.

"Say what?" you asked.

"You said we needed to have a sober conversation. Well, I'm sober and I know what I want." Joe replied, leaning up to kiss you again.

Even though everything had gone perfectly so far, you were nervous to talk about this. "I guess I'm ready." you said, your brow showing the worry you felt.

"Hey, don't stress." Joe said, pushing your hair out of your face. He cleared his throat and put his hands on either side of your face, just staring up at you for a second. "You told me that I should try to find the person that's going to make me happy. Well, I did. I've got her right here." He paused, leaning up to kiss you. "And I don't know if that means that one of us has to move right away or if we make a habit of visiting each other as often as we can, but I want to make this work. I need to."

You were left a bit speechless, just staring down at Joe's crooked smile. You let your weight rest on Joe's chest again, meeting your lips in a slow kiss.

"Can I take that as a good sign?" Joe laughed, breaking the kiss.

Nodding, you replied. "I'm in. Whatever it takes, I'm in."

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

Hi! I hope this isn't crossing a line but I happened across your blog and noticed in your tags you said you didn't think you were going to live that long. I truly felt the same way in my early twenties. I was convinced of it. And that is one of my regrets in life was that I lived without long term goals because I figured why bother. As a result I wasn't as prepared for future me as I could have been.

I see you're on a journey of healing and I'm proud of you! Try to be good to future you as well, start a savings account for a house, or go to college, or whatever it is you think future you will enjoy or need or will just make life easier. It's ok to think your time here might be short but plan as if it won't be. It's the one thing I wish I could tell younger me, so forgive me if I saw my chance to at least tell you. :)

There are so many good things in front of you! Your twenties kind of suck so just try to hang in, try to be a good person (you already seem to be), and don't take things too seriously, especially yourself.

Take care sweetheart, I believe in you!

You, my dear anon, have brought me a blessing of hope within a dark time. I want to thank you so so so much for reaching out. I received this message at just the right time❤️

I do admit I’m guilty of falling into the rabbit hole of depressive thinking sporadically. I can go from highly positive streaks of energy to worrying about the end right as my life truly begins. However, this helped give me an epiphany. Despite all the pressure most people may feel within their 20s, it shouldn’t mean that the despair one experiences is definite. This is the time period when a person starts to build a foundation and work hard while we still have the energy (but never to a point of burnout!!!)

I look back on my life and realize I have so many blessings I never want to take for granted. I’ve achieved a lot on my time on Earth. Deep down, I have many goals: Getting my own living space (that builds up to a small house eventually), traveling to new countries, being able to have little get togethers with my dearest friends, and hopefully finding love that lasts a life time. I could go on about what I hope to create since a constellation of these ideas are inside my heart. It’s just very, very difficult to remember them when you enter these spouts of depression. And I believe that and my worry of a short life comes from a response of past trauma I am currently healing.

Although I am relieved that I am not alone in experiencing this, I feel awful for whatever you had to bear and conquer now. I want to offer this in return while I’ve got the strength: it’s never too late for you either. If your heart’s still beating, then I know you have a chance to still create the life you want. Even if it is a struggle now, future you still exists. You can make them proud.

I promise I won’t forget this. I really needed the motivation since I’ve been lost in my mind for the past few months. I won’t give up what I’ve been put here on this Earth to do. And I hope you know that I’ll be cheering you on as well. If you can change my life for the better with the kindness you’ve shown me, imagine what more good you are capable of! I’m going to make sure future me gets to live the happy life she’s always wanted.

I hope you have a beautiful weekend and that all your dreams come true, my friend

[believingispowerfulmagic]

A Helping Hand

Summary: After an accident leaves Regina Mills with several broken bones, her friend Mary Margaret argues that Regina needs some help at home while she recovers. Regina, naturally, doesn’t like the idea. She believes her injuries make her look weak - and she hates looking weak. When Regina chases off aide after aide, the agency turns to Robin Locksley. Though he has left the field for personal reasons, he has a special knack for difficult patients and Tuck hopes he will be the one aide Regina can’t chase off. Robin reluctantly agrees to work the assignment. Will Regina chase Robin off too? Or will he prove to be just as stubborn as her? And if so, will Robin finally teach Regina that it’s okay to accept help when needed? And will Regina provide the healing Robin himself needs?

Chapter 1: FFN | AO3 | Wattpad

Chapter 7: A Fresh Start

FFN | AO3 | Wattpad

Robin parked his car outside Regina's house. He took a deep breath, knowing this was going to be the moment of truth – if Regina was serious about her recovery or if it had just been the painkillers talking. Opening the car door, he really hoped it was the former and not the latter – for everyone's sake.

Locking his car, he walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. He took a sip of his coffee as he waited for Mary Margaret to let him in, wondering what kind of mood Regina was in that morning. When the door opened, he smiled at Mary Margaret. "Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," she whispered, ushering him into the house. "Regina is still asleep. The medicine Whale gave her really knocked her out."

Robin nodded, taking off his coat. "Good. She needs some sleep, though we're going to have to wean her off that as sometimes it can prevent the restorative sleep she'll need to help with her healing."

"I'm sure," Mary Margaret said, motioning for him to follow her. "Can I get you something to eat?"

He walked into the kitchen with her, shaking his head. "I ate before I left the house since I also had to feed Roland. But thank you."

"Good morning, Mr. Locksley," Henry said, smiling from the table.

Robin smiled back. "Good morning, Henry. Ready for school?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah. A bit nervous about a math test. It's not my best subject."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Robin assured him. "Just take a few deep breaths so you're not so nervous while taking it."

"How will deep breaths help with that?" Henry asked, confused.

Robin chuckled, leaning against a chair. "Deep breaths help lower your heart rate and relax your body. Your mind will then follow."

"That sounds like magic," Henry said, his eyes widening.

"Just science," Robin assured him. "But give it a try and let me know how it goes, okay?"

Henry nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Locksley."

"Time to get ready, Henry," Mary Margaret said. "Don't forget to put your bowl in the sink."

"Can I say goodbye to Mom?" he asked as he brought his bowl to the sink.

She shook her head. "It's probably best to let her sleep."

Henry's face fell but he nodded. "Okay."

"How's this?" Robin pulled out his phone and opened his camera. "Why don't you record a message for your mum and I can play it for her when she's awake."

That cheered Henry up and he nodded. "That sounds great. Thanks, Mr. Locksley!"

"Just make it quick," Mary Margaret said, smiling. "We don't want to be late."

"Okay, Aunt Mary," Henry said, looking at Robin's phone. "Hi, Mom. Sorry I couldn't say goodbye to you before school but I hope you're feeling better. I'll see you after school. Remember to be nice to Mr. Locksley and do what he says. I love you."

Robin chuckled as he ended the video. "Perfect. I'll be sure to show it her as soon as she wakes up."

"Awesome," Henry said, shaking Robin's hand. He then left the kitchen, no doubt to finish getting ready to leave.

"Do you need anything else?" Mary Margaret asked.

Robin shook his head. "I think I can handle it. You go to school and don't worry about anything."

She chuckled. "Easier said than done."

"I know," he replied, understanding how much she cared about Regina. "So try not to worry. How's that?"

"I think I can try," she told him, reaching out and squeezing his hand. "I'm really glad Tuck sent you to us."

Robin nodded, touched by her words. "Me too."

She released his hand and walked out of the kitchen. Not long after, the door opened and closed as she and Henry went on their way. Robin let out a little sigh before deciding to go check on Regina himself.

He left the kitchen and carefully walked down to the guest room he remembered Regina was using while her leg healed. Robin quietly opened the door and peered in, finding his patient asleep in her bed. Blankets were tucked around her as her chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. With her dark hair splayed out on her pillow, she looked peaceful.

It certainly was a welcomed change from the last time he had seen her in that bed.

Robin approached her and gently placed his hand on her forehead. She felt cool to the touch and he sighed in relief that she was still fever-free. He still had a few other symptoms to check for but he believed she was almost done fighting her pneumonia. That certainly was a good improvement.

As he started to walk back to the door, he heard a soft moan from Regina. He paused, worried that she was having another nightmare. Looking over his shoulder, he found that she was trying to sit up. "Do you need anything?" he asked her.

She jumped before looking at him with wide eyes. "When did you get here?"

"Not long ago," he said. "I was just checking on you. Sorry to surprise you."

"That's okay," she replied, giving up her quest to sit up and just let herself be propped up as much as possible by her pillows. "I take it Henry already left for school?"

He nodded. "But Henry left you a message. I can show it you once we get you set up for breakfast. Do you want anything in particular?"

She shrugged. "What do you recommend?"

"Let's get some eggs into you," he said, deciding that would be filling but not too heavy. "And maybe some fruit."

"That sounds really good," she replied, looking relieved. "Thank you."

He nodded, worried about how weak she still seemed physically. "Do you want breakfast in bed or do you want to try to get to the kitchen table?"

She bit her lip, glancing behind him as if he was hiding her wheelchair. Regina then sighed. "I think breakfast in bed is best for now," she said.

"Me too," he replied, relieved. "I'll be back in a bit with your meal."

Robin left the room, glad that she was still cooperative after a good night's sleep. He hoped that would continue as the day progressed and he really started to hold her to a schedule designed just for her recover.

But for the first time since stepping foot in the Mills' household, he had a good feeling about this assignment.

[wicked-d00d]

Dizzy leaves the lecture hall with her backpack on her shoulders. As she walks down the hallway, she passes by other students who seem more engaged in their classes than she is.

"Everyone else looks so focused. Why am I like this? What happened to my brain?"

Dizzy enters an empty bathroom stall where she lights up a joint. She takes several deep breaths as she exhales smoke into the air. "I've been smoking weed since I was 12 years old," says Dizzy. "It helps me focus."

She then goes outside for some fresh air before returning to school. On her way out of the building, she sees another student lighting up a cigarette. The two exchange nods and smile at each other.

After getting home, Dizzy sits down at her desk and opens her laptop. She pulls up her online coursework and begins studying.

“Why did I even bother coming to college?” wonders Dizzy. “I don’t want to learn anything! All I care about is getting high and having fun!"

Dizzy closes her computer and puts away her books. She grabs her phone and starts scrolling through social media posts.

“Look at how much fun everyone else is having without me,” laments Dizzy. “They’re partying all night while I sit here alone.”

Dizzy gets up off the couch and heads over to her bedroom window. She gazes out onto the street below and watches people walking around town.

“What do they have that I don’t?” asks Dizzy. “How come they can go out there and enjoy life but not me?”

Dizzy returns to her room and lies down on her bed. She rolls herself a joint and lights it up.

“This is what I live for!” exclaims Dizzy. “Weed makes everything better!”

Dizzy continues rolling joint after joint until she falls asleep.

She wakes up late the next morning. Her roommate knocks on the door and tells her that she needs to get ready because they are going to miss class if they don’t hurry.

“You know you should stop doing drugs,” says Dizzy’s roommate. “Your parents would kill you if they knew you were using marijuana every day.”

Dizzy ignores her roommate and continues rolling joints. After finishing one last joint, she stands up and heads towards the shower.

“I guess I could try to quit tomorrow,” thinks Dizzy. “But today isn’t tomorrow yet…”

Dizzy finishes taking a shower and dries off. She puts on her clothes and heads out the front door.

“Maybe I will just skip class today,” muses Dizzy. “I mean, why waste time learning when I already know everything anyway?”

Dizzy arrives at campus and decides to head straight to the library instead of attending any classes. Once inside, she finds a seat near the windows and turns on her laptop.

“Now let’s see what happens when I look up "Guilty Gear" on tumblr...”

Dizzy scrolls through various images and videos related to Guilty Gear. She comes across a blog called @gear-project​, which contains information about the characters and storyline of the games.

“Wow, these guys really love Guilty Gear,” observes Dizzy. “And they actually put together a lot of cool stuff too.”

As Dizzy reads through the articles, she learns many interesting facts about the world of Guilty Gear, including herself. She was surprised to learn that she hatched from an egg.

“That explains why I always feel like I’m missing something,” remarks Dizzy. “I wonder what I looked like before I grew feathers and wings?”

Dizzy spends hours reading through the website. When she finally feels satisfied, she logs off and shuts down her computer.

Dizzy heads back to her dorm room and prepares dinner. While eating, she receives a text message from her friend asking her to hangout later tonight.

“Sure thing,” replies Dizzy. “Just give me a few minutes to take a nap first.”

Dizzy smokes a bowl and falls asleep shortly afterwards.

“Alright, let’s go find our favorite DJ!” proclaims Dizzy. “He’ll play us the best music ever!”

Dizzy leads her friends through the crowd and eventually locates the entrance to the dance floor.

“Here we go!” cheers Dizzy. “Party time!”

The group of friends enter the club and begin dancing along to the music. They drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes throughout the evening. At midnight, Dizzy and her friends leave the club and walk back to their cars.

“Let’s meet up again next week,” suggests Dizzy. “I think I might have found a new place to party.”

Dizzy drives home and parks her car in the garage. She locks the doors behind her and heads upstairs to her bedroom.

“Time to relax and unwind,” declares Dizzy. “Tomorrow is another day.”

Dizzy turns on her television and flips through channels until she reaches the news station. A report catches her attention.

“Oh no,” gasps Dizzy.

A picture appears on screen showing a man being charged with possession of illegal substances. He is identified as Johnny Gears, a well known drug dealer in the area.

“Johnny Gears is dead,” announces the anchorwoman. “Police say he died during a shootout with officers earlier this afternoon.”

Dizzy jumps up from her chair and runs over to the TV set.

“No, please tell me it wasn’t him!” pleads Dizzy. “Please tell me he didn’t die!”

Dizzy paces back and forth in her living room. She tries calling his number multiple times but keeps receiving voicemail messages.

“Where are you Johnny?” screams Dizzy. “Don’t leave me! Please answer your phone!”

Dizzy throws her cellphone against the wall and collapses onto the ground. Tears stream down her face as she mourns the loss of her beloved supplier.

“My only source of supply is gone forever,” moans Dizzy. “There must be someone else out there somewhere. But who? Where? How?”

Dizzy remains on the floor crying for hours. Eventually, she calms down enough to stand up and turn off the television.

“I guess I’d better start looking for a new supplier,” reasons Dizzy. “At least I still have my job to fall back on.”

The next day Dizzy woke up and rolled another joint before heading to her shift at McDonalds

Dizzy walks into work and clocks in for her shift, high as usual. As usual, she greets her coworkers by saying hello.

“Hey Dizzy,” says one of them. “Didn’t you hear? Your boss fired you yesterday.”

“WHAT?!” yells Dizzy. “NO WAY!! WHY???”

Dizzy rushes outside and calls her manager.

“Hello?” answers the voice on the other end.

“Hi Mr. Johnson,” says Dizzy. “It’s me, Dizzy. What happened? Why am I no longer employed?”

Mr. Johnson sighs heavily before answering.

“Dizzy, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for some time now," begins Mr. Johnson. "Unfortunately, I had to fire you due to excessive tardiness."

“Tardiness? That’s ridiculous!” argues Dizzy. “I never showed up late once since I started working here!”

“Yes, but you also missed more than half of your scheduled shifts,” responds Mr. Johnson. “And you smell like you've been smoking weed.

“Smelling like weed doesn’t make me late,” retorts Dizzy. “Besides, how did you even notice? You hardly pay attention to anything around here!"

“Look, Dizzy,” says Mr. Johnson. “I understand that you may need help dealing with certain issues in your personal life. However, I cannot allow you to continue coming to work while under the influence of narcotics or alcohol. It simply isn’t safe for anyone involved.”

“Fine then,” agrees Dizzy. “If you aren’t willing to accept me for who I am, then I guess I’ll just have to move on without you.”

Dizzy leaves the restaurant and heads toward her house. On the way, she passes by a convenience store where she buys snacks and sodas.

Once home, Dizzy takes a long bath and relaxes in the tub. She gets high and enjoys listening to music and watching movies all night. The following morning, Dizzy awakens feeling refreshed and energized.

“Okay, so I lost my job,” reflects Dizzy. “But I still have plenty of money left in my bank account. And I can get more whenever I want if I keep doing what I do best.”

Dizzy rolls another joint and lights it up. She continues smoking marijuana throughout the rest of the day and falls asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning, ready for her next adventure.

[shadowsshowdown]

Deus Ex: Human Revolution Shadow’s Showdown 30

The One Who Cares.

Washington

It was six in the morning when she was awakened by a knock on the wall and a quarter of an hour later by another one on the door. Sleepy Laura with sunken eyes, dressed in her buttoned crook pajamas, went to open the door. Seeing Connor smiling, she immediately hid behind the door. The man only laughed.

"Good morning sleepyhead! Not ready yet?" he quipped but didn't say a word about her appearance. "Ready for what?" she asked in a semi-conscious voice, yawning. "After all, I left a note under your door. I sent you messages earlier and called but you didn't write back," he said offended, intertwining his arms across his chest. "What..." Laura slapped her forehead with her open palm and walked over to the nightstand. "This letter?" she asked showing him the envelope. "Exactly this one. Don't tell me you haven't read it!"

The woman felt as if she had swallowed a huge boulder, and with that came unimaginable relief. She couldn't tell him the truth, even to Adam she confided reluctantly and after a long time.

"I ran out of time," she lied. "First I checked to make sure the code was ready. You know I always do that even when I'm sure. Then I found the letter, but I figured I'd take a shower sooner, then I fell on the bed and then you know. I always mute my phone when I have something important to do." "Well don't explain just get dressed in something comfortable and let's go for a Jogging," he urged feeling that the woman had not told him the whole truth. "There is nothing better than morning exercise," he assured her. "Okay just give me a minute I need to take a shower and dress and..." "You have ten minutes. I'll wait downstairs," he interrupted her and walked a few steps away but turned back. "You look cute when you're disheveled and wearing buttoned crook pajamas," he quietly said right next to her ear. He didn't manage to keep himself from passing over that remark.

Laura blushed hearing those words. She felt attractive rather than dirty and unwanted. Connor doesn't know who she was and let it stay that way. On the other hand, she didn't want to lie to him and take away the chance of a better life without her. She took a quick shower, and while brushing her teeth and combing her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror without disgust for the first time in a long time.

"Cute..." she said quietly as she put a bit of lip gloss on her lips.

Luckily she had brought along a sweatshirt, leggings, and sneakers. She liked to be ready for anything. Laura tied her hair up in a ponytail and walked downstairs. The woman noticed Connor already waiting and looking at his watch hoping she wasn't late.

"Have you been waiting long?" she asked a little scared. "I just got here. I was checking to see if anyone wanted anything. We can go," he announced but his voice didn't sound as cheerful as usual today.

Laura didn't ask what it was about. She figured she shouldn't be nosy, and if Connor wanted to he could tell her what was making him so unhappy. They stepped out onto a street still lit by streetlights, sleepy, lazy, and empty. Only a few cars passed them, and they met a few people on the way. They walked slowly at first, then the man sped up rapidly and Laura could barely keep up with him. When they reached the park, the man started warming up without saying a word. Connor stretched his muscles and carefully prepared his whole body for the effort with skilled moves. The woman felt uncomfortable, she had always been calm and relaxed around him, but today she felt something was wrong.

They jogged through narrow alleys winding among trees and bushes, admiring how the new day was dawning. There were benches along the path where they could rest if necessary. Laura had not jog in a long time, but she wanted to keep up with Connor at all costs. The man was athletic, she noticed right away, he must have jog often maybe he did other sports too. After the third lap, the hacker woman was lagging behind a bit, but she rejected every offer to rest. She kept analyzing his strange behavior and each time the conclusion was the same - it was her fault.

"Connor?" she said slightly out of breath as she caught up with the friend, wanting to focus his attention on her. "Mmm?" he muttered glancing at Laura. "What did I do wrong that you're so cold out of sudden?" she asked directly, which surprised him.

The man sighed, slowing his run until he finally stopped. With a gesture of his hand, he indicated a nearby bench set up near an old oak tree. The woman already knew this was going to be a longer conversation. Connor unfastened the bottle from the holder on his belt and offered her a sip of water, but she shook her head in denial so he took a few sips himself. It seemed to Laura that he was doing it on purpose to make her feel even more insecure.

"Why did you want to commit suicide?" he asked as directly as she did, looking intently at the woman's face partially illuminated by the rising sun.

Laura felt the blood in her veins thicken and freeze. She had no ready answer. She had not expected such a question from him. Her friend's voice was infused with anger which didn't make things any easier for her at all.

"How do you know?" she tried playing for time, hoping she could come up with some lie or half-truth. "I noticed the marks on your hands during the party," he explained in a colorless tone. "Don't you think this is my personal matter and you’ve got nothing to do with it?" Laura's voice took on an angry tinge. "If I didn't know you I'd say you were right, but I know you want to cut off an uncomfortable subject, to avoid truth and honesty. You don't trust anyone, not even yourself," he shook his head slowly expressing resignation.

'If I didn't know you' merged in Laura's mind with the red envelope almost immediately causing a sudden panic attack in the process.

"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me so don't pretend otherwise," she retorted even though she knew what he said was the brutal truth. "Then I was wrong. Those marks on your hands are accidental scratches. No! It’s only a figment of my sick imagination. Is that what you wanted to hear?" he said in a tone as rough as sandpaper.

The woman lowered her gaze focusing it on her hands resting on her thighs and clenched into fists. "No, not that," she sighed. "I've had enough of life since things went bad between Adam and me. I'd existed with the false hope that everything would mend and work out. In the meantime, I kept experiencing disappointments. At some point, the goblet of bitterness was overflowing. Unfortunately, Adam found me by accident."

"Firstly: The world is a cruel place. Your death would be of little concern to anyone. It's another thing to sacrifice yourself to save someone. Secondarily: I don't believe in coincidences and blind fate. You were found because you are meant to live. You have a purpose and a destiny to fulfill. You may not know what it is yet, but you will definitely discover it." "I can't exist when Adam is around. It's beyond me." "Laura, listen. Telling yourself such things will lead straight to toxic relationships. He's not the only guy in the world. You have to see that and accept it otherwise anyone can take advantage of your weakness and you are not weak."

The woman twitched hearing about toxic relationships. In just a few minutes of conversation, Connor had managed, without any help, to x-ray her almost to the core even though no names of places or dates had been mentioned. She couldn't find the words to answer him.

The man stood up and held out his hand to her. "Come, Unbroken Soul. We'll do one more lap and then back to the hotel. There's a lot of work ahead of us," he said and winked at her. "Smile please."

"The spirit of a poet has possessed you?" she laughed, grasping his outstretched hand. "Something like that."

Laura felt strong and confident. She felt that someone believed in her and the world was no longer so cruel.

When she returned, she somewhat hesitantly reached for the envelope, took out a piece of paper folded in half, and read the message. The black clouds of fear were blown away by the wind, and the woman breathed a sigh of relief. She threw the sweatshirt and leggings carelessly on the chair and ran to the shower. The cool water relaxed her, but she wasn't really tired at all. She had a moment to think about what she had heard. Connor was right, no more Adam, no more blind attachment. This conversation made her realize she was acting the same way she had when she was with Kratos. He beat her and tortured her, and still, she always defended him, always had some excuse for his behavior. She was always the one to blame.

Connor wasn't in the surveillance room yet, so she could turn on her laptop and look through the documents with no rush. Laura looked around the L-shaped room immediately choosing a dark brown simple sofa set against the shorter wall almost in the corner of the room. Maybe a quarter of an hour had passed when the door opened and the smell of coffee and croissants quickly filled the room.

"I'm late, please forgive me but I have something to help us with our work," the man announced cheerfully placing coffee mugs and sweets on the coffee table. "I also have sandwiches," he added sitting down right next to Laura. "You think of everything. You're irreplaceable," she said contentedly, reaching for her mug. "Plus you know what kind of coffee, I like," she added taking a sip. "I feel I'm blushing," he muttered glancing at the laptop screen. "And how's your masterpiece coming along? Ready for the grand premiere?" "I don't know, I keep feeling like something is left out, that there's a hole somewhere. I'm getting nervous." "Laura, you're talented, this isn't your first time writing code, is it?" he tried reassuring her. "Yes, but this is Kepler big. I've never run a project of this size before, even in Milwaukee Junction." "You'll be fine," he assured placing a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, that helps me a lot," she replied with a smile.

A few minutes later Adam came into the room. He had two mugs of coffee and a paper bag of sandwiches with him. Laura was sitting in a niche focused on implementing the code, so she didn't notice anyone coming in. Connor, on the other hand, looked triumphantly at his rival, making it clear to him to get out and not bother them. Fueled by rage, Jensen clutched the mug in his hand. The hot coffee burned his palm and flow down to the floor. The man didn't even show on his face a shadow of the terrible pain that pierced him. He left, again chastising himself for not being able to fight for Laura.

After several hours, Laura was so numb that she succumbed to Connor's urging and lay down resting her head on his thighs. Thanks to him, half the work was already done. The man from his laptop was checking the fragments she had implemented and caught a few minor errors in the process. Of course, the woman reacted to them with panic and even the most sincere assurances could not completely calm her down. Today they did not go for lunch. They ate sandwiches that the man brought. Anyway, Laura wouldn't be out of here before she finished implementing the code.

"I'm going to get some tea, do you want some?" he asked while stretching. "I'd love to. With lemon and no sugar please," she replied still focusing her attention on the strings of numbers.

A moment after he had left, the door creaked quietly. Laura didn't raise her eyes. "Did you forget something?" she muttered.

Searching through the files, she came across a picture of Jensen that she had taken with the drone.

"So you've seen everything," a husky voice broke the silence like a lightning strike.

The woman shook her head as if to dismiss what she had just heard. She was afraid to turn her head and felt herself blushing. She pretended to be busy, that she was so absorbed by numbers and the reality did not reach her. But how long can you pretend?

"Lucky me," she replied, which embarrassed Adam. "I came to see how you were doing or if you needed anything. Maybe you're hungry?" "Thank you for your concern, but Connor took care of everything. We work together so everything goes faster." "I would help but as Frank says: I don't know shit about computers, and I don't even know where the switch is."

Laura just analyzed her words and the response she received. Although she had promised herself that she would forget about the ex-SWAT, she couldn't. The hacker felt with the whole self that she had hurt him right now.

"One more time he says that, and I'm kicking his ass from one end of the hallway to the other. A few times if necessary. I have nothing left to lose anyway," she said trying to somehow soften the stab she had done to him.

Adam smiled slightly. Her praise of Connor hurt him, but he noticed, or it only seemed to him, that Miss Werner had just poured honey on the wound. She must have cared at least a little.

"I'll go now, I have a few more things to finish," he lied. He didn't want to run into his rival for her sake. "Have a nice day," she bid him farewell attaching a warm smile.

The Chief of Security nodded to her and responded with a smile too before disappearing out the door.

She still felt wicked but didn't have much time to think about it. Connor returned with the tea and she was immediately absorbed in her work. The man placed a sandwich near her mouth every now and then, but now she found it pushy and fake. It was after three o'clock when the hacker decided that everything was finished, and the coming days would show if any errors remained. Connor had left earlier, though he really didn't want to. Laura was packing her things when one of her subordinates entered the room.

"I didn't want to come to you with this, and you have a lot of work to do anyway, but Stevenson insisted it was urgent," he said in a slightly uncertain voice. "What is it?" she asked thus encouraging him to say more. "The door in the security room on the top floor is locked. We've tried everything but it won't budge. We need a few things from there. Without it we're currently stuck with the job," he explained as thoroughly as possible.

Laura sighed with resignation. She was counting on Stevenson and MacDowell being more resourceful.

"Okay, I'll be right there and try to break in." "Great, we'll wait," the man replied and left.

The hacker felt something strange and unnatural about this request, but she didn't want to be too suspicious. She left everything in the room, except her laptop, and locked the door. A few minutes later she was already on the fourth floor where Stevenson and MacDowell were waiting. The door was indeed locked and no attempts to hack it were working. Laura used all her knowledge but as it turned out the room was not even in the system.

"Unfortunately I won't be able to do anything about it at the moment. I will fix this bug first thing tomorrow morning," she informed. "But we need these things. We wanted to finish a phase of work today and move on to the next one tomorrow." "I'm sorry but I don't have the opportunity at the moment..." she replied and her gaze focused on the ventilation shaft to which the barred entrance led.

The employees watched as the woman turned off and put her computer away opened the hatch and went inside hoping that the tunnel led to a locked room. When she was halfway to her destination she heard something rumbling so she turned back. The hatch was closed, it didn't even budge when she tugged hard on it.

"Damn you," she growled, knowing she had let herself get trapped.

She had no other option but to follow the shaft and see where it led. A moment later she found herself in the security room, but even from the inside, she couldn't get the door open. If she had brought her phone with her she could have called Connor, meanwhile, she was trapped.

"It serves you right, slut!" she heard Stevenson's mocking voice. "You thought if you fucked Adam you were better than us?" MacDowell added. "You're going to regret this," she thought. "We're supposed to be the head specialists, not some whore who came in here not so long ago!"

Laura went back into the tunnel and checked all the branches, but none of them led to the corridor, and it was impossible to get through the rooms too. She would have to survive until tomorrow somehow. Maybe someone would notice she didn't return to the hotel. She followed straight ahead, but she did not have high hopes for the last exit either.

Adam was just finishing his work. He checked what he had done and then switched off his computer and put it in his bag. He looked around the room to see if he had taken everything and was about to leave when a loud rumbling coming from the wall caught his attention. He shrugged his shoulders ignoring it but the sound intensified.

"Help! Hello?! Is anyone there?!" a panicked female scream echoed through the room. "Someone! Please!"

The man set his bag on the sofa and walked to the wall looking for the source of the sound. He spotted a barred ventilation tunnel and crouched by it. Someone was on the other side, however, he couldn't tell who. Only the green eyes and auburn hair allowed him to recognize the person.

"Laura? What are you doing there?" he asked trying to open the hatch but it wouldn't budge. Finally, he yanked it open with all his strength, and the piece of metal gave in with a loud creak. "It's complicated," she said as Adam helped her to get out. "Sit down, you must be scared by all this. How did it even happen?" he kept asking as they sat down on the sofa. "The hatch slammed shut, and I couldn't get out so I went through the shaft looking for a way out but all the rooms were locked. I finally ended up here." "Wait, after all, the security room was open. I was in there not so long ago," Jensen frowned in surprise. Something about the woman's story didn't sit well with him. "I don't think you're telling me the whole truth," he insisted. "That's the truth!" she exclaimed getting up suddenly from her seat. "Laura, I know when you are lying or withholding information. Please be honest with me," he persisted.

The hacker returned to her place sitting down with an ostentatious sigh.

"One of the subordinates came to me. He wanted me to help him open the door to the security room so I went there with my laptop. It wasn't possible to take control remotely, so I figured I'd open it from the inside. You already know the rest." "Stevenson or MacDowell? Or maybe both?" The Head of Security asked directly, hoping Laura wouldn't dodge the answer.

The hacker rubbed thighs with her hands in a nervous motion, then crossed arms over her chest and bit her lip. She knew Adam wouldn't leave it at that. She knew he would want to defend her, and that was what she feared most.

"Both of them," she said quietly. "I should have expected that," the man sighed. "I'm sorry it's my fault. I could have voiced more opposition when they were chosen." "Come on it won't change anything. At least I know what they think of me," she didn't want to say it, didn't want to be so effusive but under the influence of the moment, the words flowed out of her mouth on their own. "If they said even a word..." hissed the ex-SWAT. "Leave this case, please." The woman twitched nervously. "It will get worse, there will be harsher words." "What exactly did they say?!" Adam's voice grew louder, and he couldn't control it. "I'm begging you... If you care, don't do anything," she insisted, and the look in her green eyes worked like a charm on him. "Fine," he sighed reassuringly. "But I want to know." "In short, I'm a whore who fucks with the Chief of Security and thinks she's better."

Jensen wanted to get up and deal immediately with this matter, but Laura grabbed his arm. She didn't have to say anything, he knew.

"Let's go back to the hotel. You must be tired and hungry," he suggested in a soft voice. "Maybe just a little. But your palm doesn't look good," she muttered. "A trifle, don't worry," he tried to dismiss her. "Adam, I know when you're trying to play Superman, but even he's weak sometimes."

The man sighed. "It burns like hell, satisfied?"

"Yup. Let's go to my place. I'll take care of that burn."

Jensen wanted to protest but her gaze hated to be denied. Together they walked out of the office and found Laura's laptop. The woman had a feeling they might have tried to break into it, but luckily it was well secured. She took the rest of her things from the surveillance room, put on her jacket, and joined Adam, who was waiting at the entrance hurriedly putting out the cigarette with the tip of his shoe as if he was afraid of her reaction. Laura only smiled.

"Smoking is bad for your health," she muttered walking up to him. "Says the one who supposedly doesn't smoke," he replied, and the corner of his mouth twitched in a smile. "I already explained to you why have you forgotten?" she glanced at him obliquely. "No, I haven't forgotten," the man looked confused.

They were silent all the way to the hotel. Laura didn't know how she should act, she was holding back reflexes and emotions just like him.

"Come on, I'll take care of your hand," she broke the silence while looking for her room key card. "All right but on one condition," she heard his husky, confident tone. "That doesn't sound good," she thought, speaking aloud: "What kind of a condition do I have to fulfill?" "You will take care of this burn at my place, and then we will have dinner together," his voice was a mixture of fatherly command and disarming beloved concern with the dominance of the latter.

She couldn't refuse him, couldn't reject these moments of closeness. "Agreed. Just give me a moment."

The man nodded, disappearing into the room. The woman closed the door with her back only now noticing that she was trembling all over. She hung up her jacket, changed her boots for slippers, and headed for the shower. She wondered why she was preparing for this meeting as if she was going on a date. She looked through all her clothes wanting to find one that was casual yet a little bit elegant. She finally chose black jeans and a blue sweater decorated with magnolia flowers embroidered on it. Before leaving she turned on her laptop wanting to check one little thing. She smiled to herself and turned off the computer.

Standing at the door of the ex-SWAT's room, she wondered what she was doing here. This is complete madness. Laura hesitated before knocking wanting to leave, but something she couldn't explain caused that a moment later she was already at Adam's. The man was wearing a grey shirt with several buttons undone at the neck and the sleeves rolled up. He had not slipped it into his trousers as he usually did.

"Oh, mother and daughter... What have I gotten myself into," she thought. "I already thought you weren't coming," he said smiling at the sight of her. "You know I keep my word," she retorted. "Yes, I do. Don't just stand there, sit down please," he encouraged though he wanted to say something completely different.

As agreed he went to get the first aid kit. Laura was sitting on a chair at a table set in the middle of the room and he took the seat next to her and placed his hand on the tabletop.

"Looks nasty," Laura muttered wrinkling her brow. "Sorry, I have to amputate."

Jensen didn't like games like this. Ever since Mexicantown, he considered them childish, however, with her, he was beginning to regain his former freedom and willingness to joke around.

"I think it's not that bad. I'm in the best hands, Dr. Queen, and I'm sure you can do something about it." "The ointment certainly won't hurt, I recommend using it," she said pretending to be an experienced doctor as she gently lubricated the burn. "I can already feel the improvement doctor," he murmured with satisfaction. "Just a bandage more and you're done. If there is no visible improvement by tomorrow, you should be prepared for the worst," she tried to remain serious but burst out laughing. "Let me take care of you now," he said walking over to the hotel phone. "What do you feel like eating?" "The same as you, please," she replied with a smile.

Adam tapped the number and placed his order. He was happy that Laura was here. He felt he was slowly getting her back.

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