#but feeling like shit gets old after awhile

[gracetoldmeto]

Think of all the things you want to do with the person closest to you.

Would you still go do those things with them if you couldn't speak to them BUT you never have to wait for your schedules to line up? Like... you just go. And they're with you, but no words can be exchanged.

Yes. Right?

It's the same thing as someone who's died. Just because theyre dead doesnt mean theyre gone. You just cant speak to them. And just because you cant speak to them doesnt mean you can no longer do those things.

Go do them anyway. They're with you. Whenever you're ready to go they'll be there.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

When I get out, I refuse to sabotage anything anymore. It’s fucking stressful. Instead I will go to the beach on the weekends, in my little mask and wetsuit and look for cool rocks, with a little piña colada on the shore waiting for me. I will not engage in anti-preaching because I will be too busy RELAXING and HAVING FUN to care if people join cults.

[th3houseofleaves]

thinking abt dove baek and how they've done a variety of illegal things to survive and they justify all of it bc it was for their survival right and as an adult they're avoiding breaking the law as much as possible bc they have to be a good influence for sparrow bc they don't want him to pick up any of their bad behaviors right but at the same time they're super nonchalant and open abt some of the stuff they did (there's some things that are going to stay buried forever thank you very much) so sparrow absolutely picks up on that energy and the first (and only) time dove has to come pick their son up after he's caught stealing they're incredibly upset – at him but mostly themself – and they fear for their LIFE bc it's totally going to be blamed on them and while karina isn't gonna hold it against them forever she won't be happy abt it and her parents will be even more upset.

meanwhile sparrow thinks he's done some cool shit and doesn't understand why everyone's not being chill about it

[floral-hex]

Another night I feel like my world is ending, so I went for a drive. Tried to sleep earlier. Nothing doing. Took a couple antianxieties. Surprisingly, not much help. Made me a little sleepy, cried a little, maybe a little more relaxed, but still…. blegh.

So, I’ve got my beeg drink, a podcast going, and I’m sitting in the Kroger parking lot because it’s 4:30+ in the morning and I need to see actual humans walking around. I don’t know how to explain it. Seeing other people continue on with their lives helps calm my doomer anxiety.

This sucks.

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

LIKE LIKE!

pairings — grumpy!damian wayne — al ghul x sunshine!reader

warnings — they’re teenagers in the modern era of course they’re gonna curse (but not a lot), isn’t EXACTLY grumpy x sunshine but it’s okay it’s my one shot 👅

summary — friendship only gets you so far with mutual feelings and the shared yearning for more than that.

notes — hi guys

━━━━━━━ YOU’D MET DAMIAN WHEN school started, in the same advisory you two were paired up since neither of you really had friends. it didn’t bother either of you, since you actually got along.

he was pretty quiet, moody, and didn’t like anyone at school. you were the exact opposite. you were loud, cheerful, and got along with everything. that obviously didn’t mean you were necessarily friends with them.

what made you and Damian click so well was probably the fact that he only really seemed to like you — even if it wasn’t obvious.

even if he didn’t talk, didn’t smile, didn’t seem to have a sliver of an emotion, he still liked you. another thing he’d never been good at was explaining his emotions. he practically despised everyone because they treated him like some sort of bomb.

you pushed his buttons, messed around with him, and always gave him a little bit of a hard time. he didn’t hate it, he could never hate anything you did.

it was probably three months into your friendship with Damian that you hung out with him outside of school. he asked if you could come over, and you happily agreed. the day was normal, except you weren’t picked up by your guardian, rather — you went with Damian.

“hello, i’m Alfred.” you thought he was nice, an old British man that Damian told you had always worked for his family. if anything, he must’ve practically been a part of the family.

you, of course, introduced yourself. it was polite. Alfred seemed taken aback, and the look (or feeling) didn’t leave him when you turned and began talking Damian’s ear off.

the boy, however, seemed to have absolutely no problem with that. he seemed to be hanging on every word, Alfred could see the mixture of fondness and love in Damian’s eyes when he looked at you — too bad you were both as oblivious as ever.

at Wayne manor, you wore a smile as you walked behind Damian and into the large house. he waited for you to take your shoes off after him, his hands stealing away your heavy bag and throwing it over his unoccupied shoulder.

you were then introduced to Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Bruce Wayne. of course, you’d always known who Bruce was — your guardian worked for him now, a feature you didn’t leave out.

Damian, not liking anyone here (except, obviously, you), tugged at your arm. you understood what he meant, even with a lack of words, and promptly excused the two of you.

Damian’s room was pretty plain, and you jokingly shook your head. “who knew you were so boring?” you teased, sitting next to him on his large bed.

you didn’t know then, but Damian actually had you here for a reason. for awhile now, he had found you in his every waking thought. it’s like you had overridden his normal thoughts, becoming the only thing he could comfortably think about.

it had proven difficult during patrol, his performance was lacking and he needed to do something to soothe his thoughts so no one saw Robin as weak.

“i wanted to talk to you, actually.” he muttered. it stopped your thoughts, and you turned to him curiously. he didn’t speak much, and you never pressured him to. when he did, you didn’t make a huge deal of it.

“what’s up?” you hummed, eyes locking in on him.

“i uh… listen, you don’t have to… y’know, feel the same? but… but i really, really like… you.” his sentence was awkward, which made you smile. he didn’t know, but you sure knew, you were head over heels for him.

“i like you too, Damian.” you laughed softly, letting your hand drop to his leg.

“holy shit, really?” he looked up, his normally inexpressive face suddenly unable to find an emotion, settling on utter disbelief and pure excitement.

“yeah.” you smiled fondly at him.

“does this… does this mean—” you cut him off, nodding. he reached forwards and tackled you in a hug, placing a soft kiss on your collarbone. suddenly, he stood up, jumping around happily.

“fuck yes.” he muttered, you began laughing.

this was the most important moment of your teenage years, your boyfriend, jumping around in excitement, because he was with you.

he tackled you into another hug, and you remained glued together until you had to leave.

you slept well with a huge grin planted across your face.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!

[kokofromwattpad]

CUDDLES

Featuring: Dorm leaders

Plot: The way how different twst characters sleep with and without you and their sleeping habits.

Cw: fluff, spooning(Riddle and Vil), snoring (Leona and Azul), mentions of boobs (Kalim), drool (idia)

Note: You can obviously tell who my favorite is. Word count: 913

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:

Before you:

He sleeps like a old man. Like, fingers crossed over his stomach, or he sleeps like a corpse. He is very silent when he is sleeping only letting out very soft breaths.

With you:

Riddle is either sleeping fetal position into your arms or being spooned. I feel like after having an extremely long day, all he wants to do is be held.

Without you:

He has zero clue what to do with his hands. So all he does is take one of his pillows and cuddles with that. Sometimes he gets mad just as he is about to fall asleep and just chucks the pillow across the room.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

Before you:

He snores like a dad. Like, you know you sometimes when your dad is busy snoring and then he chokes on his own saliva mid snore... yea... thats Leona. Also he sleeps like a hot mess. Half of his body is off the bed and the other is barely hanging on.

With you:

Living blanket. Like, he just lays his entire body weight on top of you like a blanket. At first it felt like attempted murder, but after a while you got used to it and now you can't fall asleep without weight on top of you.

Without you:

He twists his blankets into a long noodle so that it (kinda) feels like he's cuddling you. Also, his tail is swishing the same way an angry cat does the entire time he is sleeping.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO:

Before you:

Completely normal. Maybe a hand under the pillow(?) Snores. The tweels used to make fun of him for that when they were kids but got used to it eventually.

With you:

Koala mode: activated. His legs are twisted through your legs and arms attached to your torso like superglue. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and sometimes even leaves little kisses there.

Without you:

He refuses to sleep without you. Period. He got so used to sleep with you in his arms that it has become a condition for him to sleep. He will either stay in his office, busy with paperwork, studying for an upcoming test or reading a book you recommended him in his bed.

KALIM AL-ASIM:

Before you:

I headcannon that he sleeps fetal position. But like, on his stomach. His face is smashed into the pillow, which causes bedhead and he becomes scarily still (Jamil sometimes comes in and checks if he's still alive.)

With you:

He does not give a shit if you have tiddies or not, he is shoving his face into your chest like it's no-one's business. You have never slept so damn good until the day you started sleeping with Kalim in his fucking king sized bed made from swan feathers or something close to it.

Without you:

Tosses and turns, ruining the sheets and making it dirty. He usually gets up and starts pacing the room, trying to tire himself out, but failing miserably. Kind of just lays there.

VIL SCHOENHEIT:

Before you:

Looks like a fucking angel. His hair perfectly frames his head and he just looks so damn peaceful. I bet he listens to nature sounds whenever he can't sleep since him losing sleep is a big no-no.

With you:

He likes to spoon. He only big spoons, if not, then he's pushing you (affectionately♡) off the bed. He has gotten accustomed to your light snoring, kind of using it like a non-verbal lullaby.

Without you:

Can sleep, but not as nicely as when you do. Kind of turns a bit, but he does fall asleep normally. Gets a sad gut feeling whenever he wakes up without you next to him.

IDIA SHROUD:

Before you:

Probably never sleep willingly. He probably would just pass out from exhaustion ever once-in-awhile. But when he does sleep, he drools like a fucking dog. Like, entire pillow case damp from his drool. He has gained mild control over this, but is still considered a problem.

With you:

He wants to cuddle like how anime couples do. He specifically likes it when you sleep on his chest, your weight feeling the same as when a cat lays on him. He also gained a condition in order to fall asleep. He must stroke your hair gently while you mutter in your half-asleep state on how much you love and adore him.

Without you:

After he started dating you, he finally decided to get a better sleep schedule so he could spend more time with you, rather than being passed out, looking half dead. So he got a plain body pillow (He didn't get a cover as he thought it would be a betrayal of your trust) He cuddles the body pillow the same way he does to you.

MALLEUS DRACONIA:

Before you:

He slept the same way as Riddle, like a corpse. He is completely silent and does not move at all in his sleep.

With you:

He became absolutely addicted to cuddling once you introduced it to him. He would shove you into his chest, kind of like the two of you were hugging, but he has an absolute death grip on you.

Without you:

The skies have a green hue to them as lightning cracks. He is pissed at who or what made you not want or have the time to sleep with him. He would sneak out of his dorm and (break in) sneak into your dorm. He would then climb into bed with you and then instantly fall asleep.

[lanadelnegan]

Down Bad

Coach Negan x F!Reader

Song inspo: Down Bad by Taylor Swift 🤍

Summary: You confess your feelings to your gym coach and he shows you how he feels in return. Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, slight choking, praise kink, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is in his 40's)

You had stopped dressing out, stopped walking laps, and stopped giving a damn in general. You were graduating high school in a couple of weeks and that meant that you wouldn't see him again. Coach Negan had been your favorite teacher over the past four years, letting you get by doing the bare minimum while still giving you an A+ each semester.

He's been there for you through it all - Your major breakups, the start of your womanhood, even your parents divorce. When you told Negan about your dad leaving during your sophomore year, he became overly protective over you, like he was trying to fill that void in your life. It was clear to everyone that you were his favorite, and that didn't seem to bother Negan. But you wanted him in a deeper way, and it was starting to become more and more obvious to both of you. 

You turned down the volume on your earbuds when Negan sat next to you on the bleachers. The two of you watched the other students walking laps around the gym silently for a few moments before he spoke.

"You know I can't keep letting you get away with doing nothing, doll. It looks like favoritism."

"Isn't it, though?" You grinned, glancing at him with your arms crossed. He copied your body language, leaning back on the bleachers.

"That's beside the point." His jean covered knee rubbed against yours as he smirked. You sighed and his gaze softened. "Seriously, kid. What's up with you lately?"

You could feel your cheeks turning pink as you looked down at your phone, changing the song. Negan took an earbud out of your ear and held it up to his own, curious as to what you were listening to. 

"No wonder you're so down. This music is depressing as shit." He laughed before putting it back in your ear. 

"Maybe that's part of it." I shrugged. 

"Yeah? What's the other part?" He asked, resting his arm on the bleacher behind you and running his thumb over the back of your arm. Chills instantly spread over your skin and your legs discretely pressed together. At least, you thought you were discrete, but the smirk on his face and the way his eyes dropped to your thighs said otherwise.

"You know where to find me if you want to talk." He said, leaving you and heading to his office.

You sighed louder, dropping your head back after watching him disappear. The cologne trail he left behind filled your lungs and broke you at the same time. The thought of never seeing him again made you want to drop from the face of the earth.

You were in love with him. And you had been for awhile now, which would explain the crippling depression and lack of motivation. There was no way it could ever work between the two of you. He was old enough to be your father. He probably wasn't even attracted to you in that way, but you had built this fantasy world in your mind where the two of you could be together. You spent more time in that world than in reality, and music helped you get there.

The bell rang moments later, dismissing school for the day. You sat still, watching the others file out of the gym like they couldn't wait to leave. And here you were, glued to the bleachers like you wanted to stay forever. 

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you gathered your things and went to Negan's office. You'd been there numerous times throughout the past four years. He kept it unlocked and stayed at least an hour after dismissal. You knocked lightly, waiting for his permission before entering.

"Well, that was quick." Negan smiled, showing his pretty teeth while motioning for you to sit in the chair in front of his desk. His arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair and studied you, completely ignoring whatever he was busy with before.

"Sorry, I know you're busy.." You began.

"Never too busy for you, sweetheart. You ready to talk about what's been on your mind?

"Maybe." You began, sounding unsure and feeling sick. This was a bad idea. 

"Maybe? We talk all the damn time, kid. What's different this time?" 

"I think I'm.. in love with this guy.. who probably has no clue. It's embarrassing." 

"You told me about the time you lost your virginity for fuck's sake. We've had these talks before. Why is it embarrassing?"

You felt your cheeks burning, remembering how you sobbed in this same chair a year ago when your first love broke your heart. 

"Because if you knew who, you'd probably never speak to me again." You said, unable to look at him.

Negan tilted his head curiously, holding back a grin. "Doubt it, kid. Try me."

"Okay, well, he's older. A lot older." You glanced at him.

"Okay." Negan nodded. "So he doesn't go here."

"Well, he sort of does.. He's um, not a student though." You felt lightheaded like you could faint any second.

He sighed. "A teacher?"

"Is.. that.. awful?" You asked, cringing at how ridiculous you must sound.

"It will be... if it's not me." He stood, walking around his desk and leaning against it when he stopped in front of you.

"And if it is?" You asked, looking up at him.

"It fucking better be. Come here." He said in almost a whisper. You stood instantly and he moved out of the way, nodding his head towards the desk that he was just leaning on, silently telling you to sit. 

He stepped between your legs, lifting them slightly as he pulled you forward to the very edge of the desk. Your clothed pussy was pressed against the bulge in his jeans and the friction made you wetter by the second. You tried to control your visible shaking.

"Since we're confessing things now, there's something you should know too." He said, thrusting forward. "I've thought about fucking your little pussy every day since you turned 18. How it would taste, how it would feel wrapped around my cock, how you would sound screaming my name. Is that awful?"

"Negan.."

"Oh and, if if wasn't obvious already.. I'm fuckin' crazy about you, too." He grinned.

You pressed your lips to his and felt his smile widen as he kissed you back. He took the lead, deepening the kiss as his hands explored you further. He lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it to the side while his gaze lingered over your chest. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of your bra before sliding it off your arms.

"So fucking perfect." He practically moaned before dipping down and wrapping his mouth around your perky nipple. He teased the other one too before coming back up to capture your lips again. His movements became quicker, and you became more confident, running your hands up his back underneath his shirt. He stood back just enough to take off his shirt and you admired his hairy, tattooed chest, seeing it for the first time. Your gaze followed the happy trail under his belly button to the hair peeking out of his low-hanging jeans.

"If this it too fast, you can tell me, baby. We don't have to rush." 

"No." You said too quickly. "...I want this."

"Good." He grinned, kissing you again as he began unbuttoning your jeans. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were so lost in the moment when a knock on the door made you both freeze. Negan dropped his head, clearly annoyed. "Yeah?!"

"Coach, can I -" 

The door opened and you covered yourself with your hands as well as you could, although Negan's body blocked most of yours. Negan didn't flinch. Instead, he calmly turned his head and stared at the student at the door. "Did I fucking say you could come in?"

"N-no sir." He stuttered nervously before leaving and closing the door behind him. 

"Negan!" You said panicked. "He could tell someone. You could lose your job." 

"So be it, doll. Nothing is getting in my way of this." He said softly, lifting you slightly to remove your jeans and panties. He slipped them off your ankles and spread your legs, admiring your glistening lips.

"Goddamn girl, you are perfect." He leaned down to lick you once and you whimpered at the quick loss of his tongue.

"Don't worry baby, we have all the time in the world for that. Right now? I need to be buried inside you. That okay?" He asked, unzipping his jeans and pulling out his completely hard cock. He was long, thick and much bigger than your previous boyfriend.

You nodded desperately. "Yes, yes, Negan, please."

He slid into you with one deep motion, doing just as he said - burying himself inside you. It was so deep it made your jaw drop slightly.

"Fuuuuuck sweetheart. You feel fucking incredible." His forehead pressed against yours and he began thrusting into you at a steady pace. Blood rushed to your cheeks at how amazing it felt.

"Lay back for me." He said, lightly pushing you to lay flat on your back on the desk. He remained inside of you and pulled you closer until your ass was just hanging off the edge. He placed your ankles on his shoulders as he plowed into you, hitting an even deeper spot than before. Tears filled your eyes at the sensation and you covered your mouth, trying not to scream.

"Uncover that pretty mouth, baby. I want everyone in this goddamn school to hear how good I'm making you feel." Your hands dropped to your sides and you let go, moaning loudly without caring.

"Fuck baby. Look at that." He said, looking down at your body. You lifted your head to look down and your eyes widened at the sight of his cock repeatedly protruding your stomach. You both watched in awe, breathing heavily as his thrusts became faster. His large hands gripped your waist, rubbing his thumbs over the bulge in your belly.

"Negan! Feels so good." You cried.

"I know baby, I know. Fuck." He groaned, pulling out of you, only to flip you over. You turned your head to the side, laying your cheek on the cold desk as he pulled your hips closer to him. He helped you wrap your legs around his waist as he pushed himself back into you, pulling on your thighs as he fucked you harder than before. Your chest pressed painfully against the desk but the sensation didn't compare to the bruising he was giving your cervix.

He allowed your legs to drop to the floor, leaving you in a position bent over his desk. Gripping your hair, he pulled you back and leaned over to meet you until his mouth attached to your neck. He bit down on the sensitive skin next to your shoulder while fucked you.

"This little pussy is mine now. Say it." He demanded, his voice in your ear sending chills through your body.

"It's yours, Negan! Only yours."

He chuckled, reaching around and instantly finding your clit. He rubbed his middle finger over it in circles while his other hand wrapped around your throat with the perfect amount of pressure. You tried to moan when you felt your orgasm approaching, but his hand around your throat stopped them from escaping and left your mouth silently gaping open.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your ears started to ring when it hit you - warm juices flooded his cock and dripped down your inner thighs as you moaned his name over and over.

"Thaaaaat's it, y/n. Good girl." He said the last part with a growl, letting go of your throat and turning you quickly. "Knees, now."

You eagerly obeyed him, dropping down and sticking out your tongue to catch his load. He looked down at you while stroking his cock and you closed your eyes, feeling it shoot across your face in warm, pulsating waves. He grunted louder with each one, until every drop was out of him and on your face.

"And here I thought you couldn't get any prettier, baby." He said, cupping your face and admiring you. You both cleaned up, using the tissue on his desk.

"Negan.. that was.. everything. But seriously, I'm worried about him someone finding out."

"Don't, it doesn't matter, doll. I already gave them my notice."

"Wh-what do you mean?" You asked, pulling your pants up.

"It's my last year here. I got an offer to coach basketball at UGA." He said proudly, smiling at you while pulled his shirt back over his head.

You were speechless for a moment. "Negan.. are you serious?! That's where I'm going."

He walked over, pulling you in for a kiss. "Exactly."

ily: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires @6kaja9 @sasiiik9174 @fanficwriter5 @theoraekenslover @lunajay33

[poetryvampire]

Well, I feel like utter trash tonight so

Rating BG3 men on how well they'd take care of you on your period

This is dumb and not well thought out and probably a bit bias let's gooo

Gale 🔮 Sweetheart cannot read the room bless him. Is so ready to help easy the pain, he's cracking open dusty books, going through all his herbs, spends all day trying to craft the best potion for your needs. Very sweet but honestly Tara sitting on your lap is doing a fine job. Once you get him to cuddle you're golden 6/10

Wyll ⚔️ Cmon. Are you kidding me? He's got you babe. Need something picked up? Done. Craving something? Made. Just want to lay around in bed all day? Hell yeah he's right there with you, you couldn't get out of his arms if you wanted to.Also a fan of romance novels? Wyll would 100% read to you. Like voices and everything, really amps up the mellow drama. He's happy to keep you laughing or get sultry with it. Makes a great opening act to spicy times. 10/10

Halsin 🐻 Woof. Very happy to help chase away those cramps by some good old fashioned pounding you into the earth. You're not gonna be able to feel anything after he gets his paws on you. Not put off by blood that's nature ba-by. Also pls consider bear sized teddy cuddles. 7/10

Astarion 🍷 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 9/10

Rolan ✨️ As usual baby boy is too awkward to live. Not like super knowledgeable about them but wants to help you the best he can. Won't ask you directly though. Is a very quick study and takes note of what you need and like. If you need space or want to be glued to him hes already in place.If you're the kind of person that's laid up with cramps for a day or two he just happens to have those days off to be with you. You'll go for a hot water bottle and the kettle is already on. Honestly after awhile he knows your cycle better than you do. 8/10

Zevlor 🔥 If there's one thing this man knows it's being sore. It just comes with being a swordsman and an older gentleman. He is a god of working out sore muscles. Feeling achy? He goes all the way. Expect a long bath with a full body massage. He's gonna work out every inch of you and praise you like his personal god. Very patient really gonna go for the slow burn from sensual to sexual. Doesn't even expect anything back just wants to make you feel good. Will turn a downer day into a wildly romantic night. 11/10

Haarlep 😈 Couldnt give less of a shit. It's not that he's put off by it, he's had lots of experience with them but it doesn't do anything for him either. As for your suffering? He's a little empathetic, poor mortal with your poor weak body. That being said he does like you and to cuddle once in awhile so if you need some comfort he'll be there. 3/10

Raphael 👿 Jfc listen, he's waaaaay into it but will Not admit. In fact goes out of his way to let you know how off putting it is. He'll tell you how its nice to know you could still bare his young, like if he let's you. Loves the thought of breeding you and just the simple humanity of it that gets him. He cannot keep his hands off you but again will not admit why and will get mad about it. Like, how dare you look so good now of all times it's so rude. Guess I have to fuck you even though your pathetic little body keeps getting blood on my sheets smh -3/10

[emotionallyunstableduck]

Hell of a Reunion

Pairing: Nanami kento x Reader/ Nanami Kento x Fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Blowjobs

a/n: We're sooooooooo backkkk. This has been in my drafts for literally an year now. I'm so happy to come back and write once again. I had a rollercoaster of an year from my drop year to getting into university and adjusting to it. Things feel more calm and I hope to complete all my drafts and my asks/submissions.

Masterlist

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Coming back to jujutsu tech after 7 long years felt like a dream. That was until your little trip down the lane was interrupted by an all too familiar cheerful voice "Y/NNN-chann" the blindfolded sorcerer made his way towards you. "Gojoo" you were equally happy to reunite with your old senior "I missed you people" "aww I missed you too" he chimed back. The two of you continued roaming about the campus grounds when out of nowhere your senior stood still in front of you "did you know that nanami's back". You were quite surprised at this considering how determined your old classmate looked about not returning. "I didn't know that" you replied matter of factly to which gojo snickered "well I'm just glad I get to annoy my juniors again".

Through the shits and giggles, the two of you spot said blonde by the vending machine. It was hard to believe how your old lanky classmate looked after all those years. Damn that puberty really did a number on him.

"Nanamiii" gojo began to call him, and you were in a trance. But goodness that was not the end of your delirium cause the moment he turned around it felt as if all the air your lungs was stolen as you stood still watching it play out. "Gojo. How wonderful. Just when I thought my day was going fine" Nanami spoke you out of your daze. "All in a day's work" Gojo playfully spoke out resulting in some apparent stress on the blonde's face.

His attention soon diverted away from Gojo shifting it towards you.

"Y/N" he seemed somewhat skeptical "Hello Ken" you smile at your former classmate. I was clear from his expression - ones that he always tried to hide- that he was surprised to see you. "It's been awhile ken how are you doing?".

"I've been well Y/N"

"Waahh why am I being ignored here" Gojo interrupted, burst the little bubble you two were in. "Gojo, as you can see, we're just chatting," Kento retorted. "Talking? and you? come on nanamin you are just giving Y/N special treatment". His words truly heated your cheeks up. Was it true? Was kento giving you some kind of special treatment and you weren't even aware of it?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Kento spoke "Stop spewing nonsense Gojo. There is no special treatment in talking to an old classmate" His words definitely cleared the awkward air but it sure left a little sourness in you. Did you want him to give you special treatment? (obviously, who wouldn't).

The rest of the day went by after parting your ways with kento, albeit sadly. You spent the day roaming the grounds meeting up with old acquaintances and Gojo, even took you to introduce you to the students who were delighted to meet you.

Soon, the dawn drew closer, and you were weary from all the socializing. You entered the common kitchen to get yourself a cup of coffee only to find Kento leaning against the counter, sipping on his own. You slowly make your way to the kettle of warm water when his voice breaks the silence.

"I see you've managed to get rid of that menace" his words manage to get a chuckle out of you "he's not so bad" you say to which kento scoffs lightly after which the comfortable silence settles in. It had always been so with kento, even in your high school days.

"Are you free this evening?" Yet again Kento was the one to break the silence and you thank the heavens for you aren't strong enough to do so. "Absolutely- well yeah- yes I am" you fumble out, excitement coursing through at what he might ask next. "I was hoping we can catch up, just the two-" "I'd love that Ken" you buzz interrupting him with a huge grin drawing a faint chuckle out of him.

This led the two of you down the winding hallways of Jujutsu tech as you both took in the sceneries and reminisce days of old in both joy and sorrow. "Kento, would you like to get some dinner later?" You muster up "Y/N are you sure? You've just come back so I don't want to tire you out" Oh how he makes your heart race with mere formality "No Ken I will feel so much better to go get dinner with an old friend" you smile which he gladly reciprocates, an indication of his affirmation.

Your little walk ends you both up at the dorms, specifically the ones where you spent your entire high school in. "Waah, these don't change, do they?" You exclaim already walking towards the one you used to stay in, and fortunately, the door was unlocked, and the room was empty thanks to the sparse number of people who study at Jujutsu Tech. "Yeah, they do keep it the same." kento walks in right behind you.

Moments go by you inspecting and tinkering around. You turn around to see Kento settled on what once upon a time was your bed and that sent bursts of nervousness (and arousal?) through you "You seem comfy" You chuckle trying to ease your own mind "It surprisingly is comfy. Was it the same back when you laid here? " he caught you off-guard with his question. "Yeah, I suppose they were comfy to an extent"

"I remember you being a pretty heavy sleeper Y/N" Kento thinks out causing yet another tide to over turn within you "a pretty sleeper too" He adds stilling you in your steps and freezing your breath and before you could even react, you could feel his presence behind you as a shiver crept up your neck. Your attempt at turning to face him went to vain as he pulled your back against his expansive chest. "Do you mind Y/N? I'm just trying to look at this place through your perspective. " You swore that his voice got deeper like that was even a possibility. "Ken- I-" "Are you uncomfortable?" he asks being as considerate as ever "No Ken, just nervous" you reassure still confused as to what is happening or how it even began though from the looks of it, this confusion seems to be one sided as Kento's hands land on your waist "You know I've got eyes Y/N, eyes that see how you look at me" his words are accompanied by his skilled hand travelling all the way from your waist to the small of your back to your nape where they rest in a firm grip. "I've always looked at you the say way, Ken," your voice came out barely. "Do you finally want to act on those sweet thoughts I see behind your eyes"

He slowly loosens his grip as he walks away towards your bed, leaving you staring at his movements. You watch as he settles down on the mattress, legs spread just enough to make his thighs pop in his beige dress pants. "Don't just stare Y/N, come kneel here"

Those words were enough to knock the wind out of your lungs and before you knew, you were exactly where you were wanted, on the floor, right between his sprawled legs, looking up at him "so good- as always, right dear?" he fiddles his tie out, gently wrapping it around your neck .

"Yes, Ken," you whisper out, delirious and drunk in the moment. After wading through your thoughts for a bit, you manage to speak out "Ken what are we doing?". "What we should have done seven fucking years ago" he says tightening the tie around you causing you to stumble forward from the sudden impact leading you to grab his thighs to get some stability.

"May I?" The next few moments were as if you were on autopilot, the way you leaned forward towards his croach, teeth clashing against the zip as you pulled it down, burrying your nose against his growing bulge. "Shi- Y/N, cut to it my dear" you let his voice guide you, pulling his pants down along with his boxers letting his dick spring out against your lips causing you to whine at how wet you're getting from the scene in front you.

A chain of explicits flew from Kento's mouth as yours placed little kisses against his tip while your hand wrapped themselves around his length. All you could think about was the more than welcome streach that was to come as you quickly wrapped your lips around his dick. You squirm on your knees itching for something, anything as you take his length deeper into your mouth "Oh fuck Y/N- fuck fuck fuck" he guides you with the vice grip he has on the tie acting like your collar. Your head bobs sucking his off, drool and precum dripping down your chin, some of which he picks up before sliding your underwear to the side and smearing in onto your already drenched pussy.

A particularly hoarse groan signals you that he's close "shit darling shouldn't have waited for so fucking long" he says as he pulls you away as opposed to him coming. "Why?" was all you could ask."Not very gentlemanly of me to come first, my dear, " was his reply paired with you being tossed onto the bed.

"My turn" kento croacks out and you thank heavens for this reunion.

────────────────────────────────────────────

a/n: Now that JJK neared its end, I wanna post all the drafts with their messed up timelines. I really wanna write for other fandoms too so suggestions are always appreciated<3

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Summary: Every choice Satoru makes just seems to be digging himself into a deeper hole. But when it comes to you, he can’t seem to help himself.

Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Cheating, Protected Sex (wrap it up kids), Jealousy, Obsessive Behavior, Exes to Lovers (for a lil bit), Gojo is sprung on reader real bad, Dumb Stupid Idiot Satoru, Downbad Satoru

Gojo art by: Ilameys (used with permission)

Available to read on Ao3!

AN: Gojo has been eating my brain so I had to get something out. I've been obsessively listening to LIMBO by keshi and had it on repeat writing this (listen to it if you haven't!) Anyway, enjoy!

“Satoruuuuu,” an aggravating, whiny voice slurs. “Can you get me another drink pleaseeeee?”

“Hm? Oh, sure.”

Satoru rises from his seat on the couch, running his fingers through his silky white hair. He leaves his girlfriend to chat with her friends as he makes his way to the kitchen for yet another drink. Really, he should cut her off and take her home. She’s insufferable when she gets a drop of liquor in her, not that she’s any less annoying when she’s sober. All the whining, all the clinginess, all the slurring of his name as she wraps herself all around him. It used to be cute when they first started dating a year ago. Now it’s just suffocating. But Satoru sucks it up, though he’s not entirely sure why. Maybe because when she drinks, he doesn’t have to deal with actually trying to have a conversation with her. She’s a bit more tolerable after a few drinks. Annoying still, but less so.

He maneuvers through the crowd of the house party he’s currently attending. It’s packed, the scent of alcohol heavy in the air. Leave it to Suguru to go all out when he’s back in town. The guy invited practically everyone from their time in high school. Since arriving, Satoru’s already run into Mei Mei, Ino, Utahime (unfortunately) and surprisingly Nanami. There’s even students from the Ainu Technical School here. He had no idea Suguru even knew them. 

Regardless, Satoru is happy to see everyone. He stops every so often to chat with old classmates as he wanders towards the kitchen. Everyone seems to be doing well for themselves since graduating high school, which Satoru is glad for. No matter how life went, he always wished everyone well.

And life was good for Satoru, too. At 26 years old, he certainly couldn’t complain about much. He’d graduated from high school, gone to college, had a hell of a great time during his undergrad career, got himself a well paying cushy sales job. And he had a girlfriend that he…had been with for awhile. Life couldn’t be better for him.

So why did it always feel like something was missing?

Satoru enters the enormous kitchen and makes a beeline to the assortment of drinks lined along the built-in bar. Of course Suguru has a built-in bar in his kitchen with an array of pre-made cocktails to choose from. Always such a great host when he’s not traveling to clean up celebrity messes for his PR firm.

“Satoru!” A man’s voice sings behind him as an arm slings across his shoulders. 

“Haibara,” Satoru greets him. “Back for another drink?”

Satoru grabs one of the plastic party cups from the counter and pours one of the cocktails into it; something fruity and syrupy. He might’ve given it a try if the overwhelming smell of tequila didn’t burn his nostrils. He thinks of his girlfriend, knowing she will definitely feel like shit by the end of the night.

“Hm?” Haibara shakes his head, his raven hair whipping with the movement. “No way. One is enough for me. I have early practice tomorrow. Coach says my swing needs work, so not willing to fuck that up.” Ah right. Satoru had totally forgotten that Haibara played tennis professionally now. He nods, listening to his friend fill him in on what his plans for tomorrow are. Haibara’s wide brown eyes follow Satoru’s movements as he fills his cup. “You, though? I never see you drink at these things?”

Satoru shakes his head. “Not for me. For my girlfriend.”

Haibara’s signature, open-mouthed grin spreads wide across his face. “Oh! You’re still dating her? Wow. Good for you, man.”

Something about the surprise in Haibara’s tone takes Satoru aback, brows knitting at this. “Why’d you say it like that?”

Haibara crosses his arms, his smile melting away with a sigh. “I mean…” Haibara sighs your name quietly. “The two of you were together for a long time before you broke up after high school. We all thought you’d still be together, but if you could end that relationship, I’m just a little surprised you’re still with this one. That’s all. But if you’re happy...”

Just hearing your name on Haibara’s tongue has Satoru’s stomach twisting in knots. He hasn’t seen or spoken to you in years, something he’s been wanting to change for a long time but too cowardly to do so. 

Satoru nods, giving Haibara a weak smile. He can admit that his girlfriend was…not the least bit interesting, annoying and did little for him. But he enjoyed her company sometimes.

“Just don’t be surprised if one of us leaves with Y/N tonight, though,” Haibara jokes, throwing his head back with an obnoxious chuckle. 

What?

Satoru feels his heart leap into his throat as his crystalline eyes dart rapidly over every occupant in the kitchen, only seeing the familiar faces of his old classmates and a few strangers. There’s no sign of you. Maybe Haibara was just fucking with him. 

Satoru laughs to save face, albeit awkwardly. “Funny,” he mutters, staring down into the drink meant for his current girlfriend, though now his thoughts are only occupied with you.

“Hey man, I need to get back to my girl, so I’ll catch you later,” Satoru tells his old friend.

“Yeah, later! Hey!” Haibara calls out to him and Satoru turns briefly. “Let’s get together to play some time!”

“Yeah, sure. Text me!” Satoru calls back, waving as he exits the kitchen. Unlikely, but he appreciates the effort.

Satoru shoulders through the crowd again, carefully holding onto the red cup in hand so it doesn't spill. He takes his time getting back, a new goal in mind: find you. Are you actually here? Or was Haibara just trying to mess with him? His heart pounds hard in his chest as he moves, eyes scanning every face he sees.

It’s been seven long years since Satoru last spoke to you - his first real crush, his first real girlfriend, his first time. His first everything. He wonders if you’ve thought about him at all in this time. He’d be surprised if you did. Things didn’t exactly end well between you two.

......

Seven Years Ago

You and Satoru dated all through high school. Satoru, a star athlete, played many sports and you supported him through them all, cheering for him at every game and helping him with his practice. You two were inseparable. If you weren’t at Satoru’s place, he was at yours. The love was deep between you two and a promise was made that you’d always be together.

But life didn’t always happen the way you wanted. The joy and excitement of being accepted into your dream schools did not last long when you realized you’d be going to school thousands of miles away and oceans apart. It was the first time a true test of your relationship was presented. Satoru was staying in Japan for college while you were headed overseas. Could your relationship survive the distance?

The first few months apart weren’t so bad. Satoru was making friends, excelling at school and becoming quite popular. You were also busy with your new life and hobbies. You made time for each other when you could. But it wasn’t enough. The loneliness Satoru felt without you was all consuming and it was only a matter of time before he found himself sending fewer texts, calling less, absorbed in the newness of college life.

Satoru loved you so much, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew the likelihood of a long distance relationship surviving was slim regardless of who it was. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but the trying part was becoming more burdensome than he wanted.

And it wasn’t as though you had done anything wrong. This feeling Satoru was experiencing was all on him. You made the effort to keep in touch, to call when you could. And you still wanted it to work. But if Satoru were honest, he just wanted to enjoy his time in school without the constant worry of pleasing someone who he never saw unless it was behind a screen. It was selfish of him, but he wanted to have fun. This was a new world and he wanted to be free to explore it.

So he ended things.

He’ll never forget the quiet sobs on the other end of the phone as he sat in silence after uttering the words, “I don’t think this is going to work out anymore”.

His heart ached listening to your hushed pleas for him to not do this, to not end things this way. But it was for the best. In the long run, you’d be happier. He’d be happier and what was that corny saying again?

If you love something, set it free? Satoru thinks that’s what he did that day.

And you were so upset. Rightfully so. You loved Satoru. You were each other’s first kiss, first times before you left for college, first loves. You’d quite literally given everything to each other. But Satoru couldn’t commit to you anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to enjoy college, live his life. It may be selfish of him, but he didn’t see it that way. It was his chance to grow. 

Even after all of your pleading, he stuck to his guns. It was torture, listening to you tearfully beg him not to do this to you. He had to end this.

So he told you he’d met someone else, that he couldn’t be with you anymore because there was another woman he wanted to be with. The stretch of silence was painful, Satoru quietly waiting to see if you had anything to add. The call ended with you hanging up in his face with only a choked sob as the last thing he’d heard. 

Adjusting to life without you proved difficult at first. Satoru isn’t embarrassed to admit he moped around campus for a while before he was able to start trying to move on. After that, the next few months of college were great. Satoru was Mr. Popular, quickly rising to the top of his collegiate sports team. He was the life of any party he went to, the center of attention wherever he went. 

Life should’ve felt perfect. 

But as the months passed, Satoru found his mind occupied with the thought of you at the worst times. 

While his professor discusses marketing strategies, Satoru’s mind wanders to you. 

What are you doing right now? 

When he’s at practice getting berated by the coach for poor blocking form, he knows he can’t tell him it’s because he’s distracted by the thought of you.

Who are you with? 

When he’s giving another girl his number at a party, planning to hook up later, he pushes back the memory of the first time he’d spoken to you. 

Where are you?

When he finds himself between another girl's legs that same night, he squeezes his eyes shut, picturing you and biting his tongue as he tries his best not to moan your name.

Do you still think about him?

The months soon stretch into a year and Satoru hopes this intense yearning he has for you will just fade away. He’s not so lucky. If anything, he thinks about you more. He checks your social media profiles to find you’ve removed him as a friend on everything. Of course you did. He ripped your heart in two. There was no way you’d allow him access back into your life. Your accounts are all private, so he can’t see anything and he’s not willing to ask a mutual friend about what you’ve been up to. It only makes him a little bit crazy that you’ve put up this wall between you two so he has no access to you. 

Another six months pass and Satoru works up the nerve to text you for the first time since you’d broken up. He hopes you’ll reply. It’s been more than a year. You can’t possibly still be upset, can you? He can admit that he could have handled the way he ended things better, sure. But if he can get past it, you can too, right?

You never respond.

More months pass by and soon another year. One late night, Satoru slips into his apartment after a failed hookup. He pulls his phone out, scrolling through his contacts to find your name. You didn’t reply to his last text. He doubts you’ll respond to this one, but he takes a deep breath and shoots off a message to you before he changes his mind.

Days later, you finally respond. You chat for a while, sending messages back and forth. Generic things, really. Just catching up. Until one night Satoru musters up the courage to call you.

“Hello?” You answer. There’s soft music in the background and Satoru wonders what you’re up to. Are you home? Maybe you’re relaxing and the music is on for background noise. Or maybe you’re with someone, listening to music to set the mood. There’s an unpleasant twist that forms in his stomach at the thought.

“Hey,” he says easily, though he can barely hear your voice over the rapid pounding of his heart. “I figured a phone call may be easier than just texting. What are you doing?”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” He hears you shuffling around, then the quiet click of a door closing as the music fades out. “I’m actually at a friends for dinner.”

A friend. He wants to ask more about your friend, but he knows he has no right to that information anymore. 

“Sorry to interrupt your night,” he tells you, hoping his voice doesn’t betray how tense he is. His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.

“It’s fine. I have a couple minutes to spare.” You sound relaxed. Like speaking to Satoru doesn’t have the same effect on you as it does on him. Like talking to him is just like talking to anybody else. He knows it’s his own fault it’s this way, but it still stings. “Did you need something?”

You.

That’s what Satoru wants to say. More than anything, he wants to tell you that he wants you back, that he needs you back. He wants to tell you he made a mistake breaking up with you, that he’s so sorry. He wants to ask that you’ll please forgive him. 

Satoru wants to say he regrets his decision to call it quits. Wants to admit that he should have made more of an effort to make it work out and not have been so fucking weak. He wants to tell you that if you’re willing to give it another try he is, too.

That’s what he wants.

Because after everything, he still l–

“Satoru?” You repeat your question and Satoru realizes he’s let the silence hang in the air between you both for far too long.

“Oh, I jus–”

“Babe? Dinner’s ready. Do you want any wine with yours?” A deep voice cuts through the quiet and Satoru feels his heart drop hearing someone else call you by the name that was once meant for only his use. He hears soft shuffling and hushed whispers and a “sorry, I thought you were off the phone, babe. You were quiet–”

He can tell you’ve muted your phone. He can’t hear anything anymore. The looming silence makes Satoru want to hang up on you so he can swallow the bitterness he feels. So you had moved on, found someone else who gets to treat you the way Satoru should have. It’s fair. It’s been years since you two had broken up. You’d barely started speaking again. Of course you would find someone new. You were perfect and anyone would be an idiot to let you go. Much like Satoru was.

His thumb lingers over the end call button on his screen…and then you’re back just before he presses it.

“Sorry about that,” you breathe. “Anyway, did you need something, Satoru?”

“That your friend?” Satoru asks, ignoring your question completely. He can’t even pretend it’s not because he wants to know who the hell was calling you ‘babe’.

You clear your throat. “No, ah…that’s my boyfriend,” you finally tell him.

The silence falls over you again for a few seconds, Satoru trying to find his words. Again, it’s fair for you to date someone else. Satoru had ended things. He lost his right to be jealous when he did. And yet, against his better judgment, he leans into the bitterness he felt moments ago, forcing out a laugh. “Good! Oh, that’s good for you. Glad you found someone.”

“...Thanks?”

Satoru hums. “Yeah. I mean, glad we both moved on. I was actually worried when I was calling that you’d still be hung up on me or something.” He winces, but laughs awkwardly again. Knows he just shot himself in the foot. Maybe you’ll just laugh it off, take it as a bad joke.

“Yeah.” Your voice is clipped, short. “Okay, well, it was great catching up with you, Satoru. I have to go now.”

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Got it. Well, have fun at your din–”

The line goes dead.

Satoru tosses his phone to the side, throws himself back on his bed with a groan. 

“Idiot.”

You don’t return any more of his calls or texts.

......

Present

Satoru’s feet carry him through the crowd, conversation drifting through the air. He can hear Utahime yelling at Suguru and Satoru resists the damn near instinctual urge to turn towards the screeching so he can join Suguru in whatever antics set her off. It’s always funny seeing how red her face gets. He also hears the sounds of Shoko’s airy laugh as she catches up with Nanami and Ijichi. An odd group, he thinks, but Satoru doesn’t have time to dwell on it because he hears the sweet sound of your laugh and–

Wait.

He stops in his tracks, the drink in his hand sloshing with the abrupt halt. He turns his head to peer over the crowd, but he doesn’t see anything, doesn’t see you. Maybe his mind is playing tricks on him. There’s no way you’d actually be here. You’re overseas. At least, he thinks you may be overseas. That’s the last thing he knew about you for certain. Satoru’s not sure what you’re up to these days. He hasn’t asked, afraid of what the answer will be. He’s not sure he could handle knowing you’re potentially engaged or happily married. Hell, he’s not sure he could handle knowing if you’re dating someone. 

His piercing blue gaze finally lands on you and he realizes Haibara was actually not joking about someone potentially leaving with you tonight. Because you’re right there, off to the side of the crowd with some man, giggling at whatever he’s saying.

Satoru knows it’s you, even from a distance. He couldn’t mistake those beautiful eyes for anyone else's, the way they crinkle ever so slightly in the corners when you smile. He could never mistake those luscious, glossed lips he loved to kiss. You’re all smiles, as stunning as he remembers.

Everything keeps moving as time seems to stand still only for Satoru, his eyes never leaving you. And he knows he’s at this party with someone else. That’s what he should be focused on, but you’re all he cares about right now. His gaze locks onto your lips, following the curve of your smile, the way your tongue darts out just a bit to run along your bottom lip, the way those lips form your words. 

You may still hate him after all this time, but Satoru wants to talk to you. He almost wants to get just close enough for you to notice him. Maybe you’ll make the first move and talk to him.

‘What the fuck am I doing?’ He thinks, lips pursed in concentration.

He should get back to his actual girlfriend. He’s been gone for too long. She’s bound to come looking for him if he doesn’t get back to her soon. Yeah, he’ll just go back. Talking to you won’t be good for him anyway –

The man you’re speaking to leans forward, his lips moving to your ear and Satoru, with his eyes still glued to your lips, feels his blood boil as he watches them part with what he’s pretty sure is a sigh. When he sees your hand come up to lay on the other man’s arm, his nostrils flare with irritation. When you smirk at what the man is whispering, he feels his jaw tighten. And when the other man’s hand comes to land on your waist, Satoru’s feet move before he even realizes what he’s doing.

As he approaches, the man steps away, a slick grin on his face and you roll your eyes, shaking your head and giggling. Are you actually flirting with this guy? It’s only as he gets closer that Satoru can better make out who it is; poorly done bleach job, shitty eyeliner around his eyes, and too many ear piercings. It’s just Naoya Zenin. From what Satoru remembers, you hated that fucker all of high school.

Unless something’s changed and suddenly you’re into him? Is this who you’re dating now?

Satoru wants to be pissed, but this may work in his favor. If you could be on good terms with Naoya, who you absolutely despised for as long as you’d known him, then maybe you had room in your heart to forgive him for being such a piece of shit to you all those years ago.

Your eyes drift over to Satoru as he approaches you both. And you hardly react, only offering him a small smile before your attention drifts back to Naoya. And though a tiny curve of your lips is something, the lack of a reaction kind of annoys the shit out of him.

“Hey,” Satoru greets, mainly directed towards you because fuck Naoya.

“Hi, Satoru.” You fold your arms over your chest, eyes coming back to meet his. God, you’re as pretty as Satoru remembers you being. This close to you, Satoru can see how much you’ve changed. And time has been very good to you. You’re still beautiful in the youthful way Satoru remembers, but you’re grown now. His eyes trail down your frame quickly, drinking in the way you’ve filled out.

“Gojo…” Naoya says with clear disdain in his voice.

“Zenin.”

And it’s quiet now. Awkward. But it doesn’t matter to Satoru. His eyes are only on you.

You pull your gaze away from Satoru and back to Naoya.

“You look great,” Satoru tells you, sipping the drink meant for his girlfriend to keep himself from potentially following up with something stupid. He grimaces slightly at the taste before trying to cover it with a lopsided grin.

And you give him the same grin back, a little shy. It’s cute.

“Thanks, Satoru. You look good, too.”

“I didn’t know you were back in town.”

“Yeah, I’ve been back for a few months now. Just settling back in and working,” your brows knit together as you lean to the side to glance around Satoru. “I’m surprised Suguru didn’t tell you since I just had lunch with him like two days ago.”

He realizes you must be looking for Suguru when you straighten your stance again. Deep in his mind, Satoru makes a mental note to have a word with Suguru about this later. Next to him, Naoya snorts and Satoru has to resist saying something that will surely end with them in a fight. You must sense the tension because you ask Naoya if he can grab you a drink which prompts an eye roll from him, but he goes anyway. 

“Doubt he’ll be back,” you mutter to Satoru with a smirk. “That asshole wants to hook up so bad it’s pathetic,” a soft chuckle rushes past your lips.

“Not interested, then?” Satoru jokes, a smile spread across his face.

You narrow your eyes, “Ha ha. You know I hate that guy. He won’t be back anyway. No way he’s gonna waste time getting a drink for someone who isn’t fucking him at the end of the night.”

If you weren’t still watching Naoya push his way through the crowd of partygoers, you may have seen Satoru visibly deflate.

“Ah, good to know you haven’t lowered your standards,” Satoru says and you laugh. The sound makes Satoru’s head spin. It’s been so long since he’s heard it.

“I don’t think my standards could ever be low enough to fuck Naoya,” you clarify, nose crinkling in disgust. Satoru chuckles at your reaction, watching as you shift uncomfortably before him. You fidget with the hem of your dress before you speak again.

“It’s actually really good to see you, Satoru.”

“Is it really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to reach out for a while. Life just got away from me.”

Satoru’s brows lift in surprise. “Reach out for what?” Your eyes are boring into his, wide and surveying, peering into his soul. Just the way they always did. 

“I just felt like things left off on such a sour note with us. And you reached out trying to build a friendship and at the first sign of things getting weird, I just…ran. Didn’t look back. You were trying and I wasn’t. You didn’t deserve that.”

He knows you’re referring to the last time you’d spoken, though he’s not sure why you’re the one trying to apologize.

“And I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being a terrible friend to you.”

You always were way too sweet to him. He didn’t deserve that.

“I should be apologizing to you,” Satoru shakes his head. “I was still jealous back then. When I said I was worried you were still hung up on me, it’s because I was trying to cover up the fact that I was still hung up on you. Hearing your boyfriend call you babe–”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you interrupt, a soft smile gracing your features. Satoru smirks.

“Hearing your ex-boyfriend call you babe, it just…made me feel a lot of things I didn’t understand at the time. I shouldn’t have said what I did to set you off. I’m sorry.”

It’s only been a few minutes of you talking and it already feels like a weight has been lifted, like the wall you put up all those years ago has come down. You both must look strange, just standing off in the corner alone staring and smiling at each other like you’re the only two people in the room. 

You talk a bit more, catch up on life. It doesn’t take long for things to feel comfortable between you two again - for your bodies to move a little closer, for your eyes to meet more often, for your shy touches to linger a little longer.

You’ve got your hand wrapped around Satoru’s forearm, snickering at something he’s said. And when you glance up at him, there’s something in your eyes telling him it’s okay to ask this. Because Satoru is happy to know you’re not interested in Naoya, even happier to know you’ve broken up with your college boyfriend, but what he wants to know now is –

“Are you seeing anyone? Dating, I mean,” He asks while he still has the nerve and tries not to let his eyes fall to your mouth when you shake your head and draw your lower lip between your teeth. 

“Nope, single and just enjoying life honestly. You?”

Yes.

“Me?” Satoru asks.

Say yes, stupid.

You nod. “Yeah, you. Are you with someone?”

Yes. Yes.

“Uhh, well…”

YES.

The voice in his head is screaming the answer, the one he knows he should give you. The one that would confirm to Satoru that even after everything he’s done, he’s not a shitty person, not a terrible boyfriend. But when he looks at you, eyes shining up at him with those pretty lips curled into a smirk, he doesn’t want anything more than to be with you.

God, he’s such a piece of shit. He knows it. He’s not even thinking about his girlfriend still sitting around waiting for him to come back. He’s got tunnel vision and the only thing he sees is you.

Say yes!

“I…am not…with someone.”

......

The door to Suguru’s master bathroom slams shut, your back pressed against it as Satoru’s lips find your neck, licking a long strip from your collarbone up to your chin. 

“Ah- Toru, the door. Lock the door,” you gasp, threading your fingers into his soft tresses to pull him down for a kiss. His fingers fumble around before he finds the lock, quickly turning before he breaks the kiss to focus on your neck again, kissing and sucking, marking anywhere he can. Your hands move to glide underneath his shirt, fingers grazing over his defined muscles and you sigh just as Satoru moves away from your neck to press his lips against yours.

Soft. So soft. It’s been so long since Satoru’s had you like this. He’d forgotten your taste, your smell and right now, it feels like he can’t get enough. Fuck the liquor, he’s drunk on you.

“Can I touch you?” Satoru breathes against your mouth. And you nod, kissing him again. He groans as your lips part, tongue slipping out to glide against his lips, seeking entry. And he obliges, gives you all the access you want as your tongues tangle together. You moan into his mouth, the sound shooting straight to his cock.

The dress you’re wearing is nice, simple but fits your body beautifully. Satoru can’t wait to get underneath it. He reaches down, pulling the hem of your dress up until it’s sitting at your waist. He slips his hand into your panties, hissing when he feels how soaked you are.

“So wet for me,” Satoru whispers into the kiss. “You want me that bad, baby?”

You nod, panting hard. “Yeah, so bad, Satoru,” you moan when his fingers glide through your slick fold, back arching off the door. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”

“I’m yours, baby.”

His lips crash into yours again, fingers working tight circles against your clit. You cry out, your hands balling into fists as you cling to Satoru’s shirt. He breaks the kiss, pressing his face into your neck as one of his fingers finds your entrance, plunging in slowly. Your mouth opens with a gasp as Satoru pumps into you, curling his finger until he finds your sweet spot.

He pulls back, watches your face as he slips another finger inside. He likes the way your legs shake when he turns his fingers a certain way. And the way your back arches off the door when he presses his thumb to your clit. It’s all new to him, these reactions you’re giving. You were a lot younger when you’d first become intimate. Now, it’s clear you’re much more experienced. The thought bothers and excites Satoru.

He pulls his fingers from your core, kissing you when you poke your lip out in a pout. And then he’s bending you over the bathroom sink, pushing your dress even higher before he slips his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulls them down.

“Fuck, I never thought I’d see you like this again,” he groans, palming himself through his pants.

“Toru, stop wasting time and fuck me, please.”

You’re a lot more demanding now too, apparently. He doesn’t mind.

“Did you miss me?” Satoru asks, because he’s dying to know. Did you think about him when you were with your boyfriend? Were you trying not to cry out Satoru’s name when you fucked him? Did you want him back as much as he wanted you?

Satoru unbuttons his jeans, pulls his pants and boxers down together, hissing as his cock springs free. He’s so fucking hard, he could cum just looking at you bent over the sink like this. But Satoru wants to savor you, wants to enjoy this moment of having you again for the first time in so long. He reaches over and pulls open one of the bathroom drawers, fishing around until he finds a condom and he mentally thanks Suguru for always being prepared.

“Tell me,” he demands, wrapping a hand around his length. He strokes himself lazily as he rips the condom open. He rolls the condom down his length, lining himself up with your entrance. “Did you miss me?”

You’re so patient, waiting quietly for Satoru. Although, he can hear your breathing becoming a little harsher in anticipation. Satoru moves behind you, lines himself up with your entrance and just before he’s about to roll his hips forward, he glances up to see his reflection in the mirror with you bent over and ready for him.

“Look at me,” he says. You look up, watching him through the reflection. Even in the dim lighting of the bathroom, Satoru can see your pupils blown wide with lust matching his own. He wants to see you, wants to see your face when you take him for the first time in so long.

“Look at me,” he tells you again.

“Okay,” you breathe.

“Tell me you missed me,” Satoru quietly demands as he pushes forward, sliding the tip through your folds and sinking in slowly.

“Fuuuuuuck,” your mouth falls slack with a moan. Satoru’s hands find your waist, holding your curves as he sinks into you. “I missed you, Toru. So much, so fucking much.”

“God, baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.”

He’s halfway in and he has to stop to catch his breath because hearing you moan his name like that…He may not make it all the way in without blowing his load right into the condom. You’re suffocating him, clenching onto his cock so hard he’s almost afraid to move.

“Satoru, please. Don’t stop,” you plead. He meets your gaze in the mirror again, sees the way your eyes burn with desire. Satoru pulls his hips back until only his tip sits inside you and then he rolls his hips forward, burying himself as deep in your cunt as he can.

Your walls clench down on his cock and he moans again before he starts to move, pounding into you at an unrelenting pace. You cry out his name and he keeps moving, not letting up.

Satoru brings a hand around your neck, holding your head in place so he can look at you through the mirror. He sinks into you, bending down to kiss along your neck, your shoulders, your back as he bottoms out again and again, moaning his pleasure against you.

Satoru thinks you feel like heaven. It’s the only thing he can think when he leans back and grips on to your waist again, watching your face contort in ecstasy. Every little sound you make, every moan, every sigh, every “right there” you utter brings Satoru closer and closer to his release. 

Satoru has missed you. He’s missed the way your skin feels against his, missed the way your breath hitches in your throat when his cock hits just the right spot, missed touching and grabbing the soft curves of your beautiful body. Missed how your ass bounces with each thrust, cheeks spreading just enough to give him a glimpse of that tight little hole he’s never gotten the chance to have. And god, he hopes no one else has either. 

More than anything though, he’s missed the way you take all of him, hug him tight like you never want to let him go. Fuck, he could live inside you and never get tired of it. The thought alone, the thought of having you all to himself again has him leaning forward, moaning into the space between your shoulders as he rocks his hips against you. The loud smacking noises of Satoru’s groin meeting your ass echo throughout the bathroom, and he doesn’t care who hears. 

“Fuuuck, how are you so fucking tight, still?” Satoru groans, reminiscing on the first time he’d ever had you. An out of body experience for him, personally. Truly unforgettable.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he grunts, feeling your walls begin to flutter around him.

“Toru, I’m close,” you whimper. “So close, Toru, don’t stop.”

“Cum for me baby,” Satoru groans, hand sliding down your side to find your center again. He rubs tight circles on your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels your pussy squeeze down on him as you cry out his name, your release crashing over you.

It’s so tight, so fucking tight Satoru thinks he might pass out. He can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t fucking see straight, you’re gripping him so hard.

“Ah- fuck, oh fuck! I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he grits out as he pushes his cock all the way inside you, thrusting as deep as he can go as hot spurts of cum fill the condom. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against your back as you both catch your breath.

Satoru meant what he said. He never wants to let you go. He has every intention of being with you. After you’ve both come down from your highs and cleaned up, Satoru kisses you gently. He watches as you turn back to the mirror. You’re even more beautiful as you tame your messy hair, fix your makeup and adjust your dress. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asks, ready to make up for years worth of lost time.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, your lips tilting with a small smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

......

Fingers laced, you and Satoru weave through the party together. The crowd seems to have thinned out now with how late it’s getting. It’s the perfect time to get out of here with you, take you home and –

“Satoru! There you are!” A familiar voice squeals. The sound makes Satoru quickly yank his hand from your grip. You stop in your tracks, brows furrowing as you look up at him.

“What’s the matter?” You ask just as this person you don’t know bounds up to him and wraps her arms around Satoru’s neck, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek before she lets go.

And Satoru isn’t sure how he hasn’t noticed this before. It seems like some sick twist of fate that it’s only now that you’re standing next to each other that he sees how eerily similar you and his girlfriend look. It makes his stomach churn.

But his girlfriend, so drunk and so sweet, turns to you and beams as she holds out her hand to you. “Hi! I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Satoru’s girlfriend…” His stomach nearly drops into his ass. “...you are?”

God, he wishes he could teleport out of here. Or that the ground would open wide and swallow him whole, bury him 8,000 meters beneath the earth. Anything to avoid being present at this moment. He peers down at you briefly, your hand extending to shake his girlfriends for only a second. And Satoru thinks he may be imagining it, the sheer anger he can feel radiating off of your body, even as you return his girlfriend’s sweet smile.

“Satoru’s girlfriend?” You ask and he knows you’re making sure you aren’t hearing things. Because not too long ago, he told you he wasn’t tied down to anyone. “I wasn’t aware he was dating anyone.”

“Yep! Been together almost a year now,” she brags cheerily. Satoru really wishes she’d shut up for once in her damn life.

You breathe out a bitter laugh, gazing up at Satoru and he knows he’s not imagining the rage. He can see it swimming in your eyes even as you reach up, your thumb gently swiping the corner of his mouth where apparently remnants of your lip gloss remained. You hold your finger up to show him and then hold it up to show his girlfriend who five seconds ago was too drunk to notice. She seems to have sobered up quickly now, eyes focused on the lip gloss you just wiped from Satoru’s face.

You introduce yourself to her, wiping your thumb off on your dress before continuing, “And I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m the girl who just fucked your lying boyfriend in the bathroom.”

Satoru watches in ill disguised horror as you crane your next to the side, gesturing to the marks he so stupidly made along your neck in the heat of passion. His eyes find his girlfriend who stands there, mouth agape.

“Satoru told me he wasn’t seeing anyone. If I had known it wouldn’t have happened. And believe me, it won’t ever happen again.” You turn to face Satoru one last time, gritting out, “I can’t fucking believe you. After all these years, you’re still such a piece of shit, Satoru.”

You don’t wait for a response from him, turning on your heel and storming through the crowd. Satoru watches as your back retreats, not sure what the hell he’d say even if he did catch up to you. How could he explain that he lied about his girlfriend because he wanted to spend more time with you? It’s not like he planned on fucking in the bathroom, it just happened. But there was no way you were going to give him a second of your time to try and explain.

There was no coming back from this.

When he finally loses sight of you in the crowd, Satoru reluctantly brings his gaze back down to his probably soon to be ex-girlfriend and is met with a fury similar to yours. Again, the similarities are uncanny. All the love and happiness once shining in her eyes is nowhere to be found as one question hangs in the air between them.

“Satoru, what the fuck is she talking about?”

AN: OOF, let me know what you think!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

[procyonloser]

The road was empty and dark, apart from the occasional lizard or snake out basking on the edges of the asphalt, warming up after a day of the sun beating it to shit. Adam only ever drove at night, if he could help it, because the summer weather had his ass sweatier than someone on the rag in shark infested waters. There stopped being street lights after awhile, in the middle of the open range, no point to it, not enough people, so Adam drove with his high beams bright enough they'd probably blind a small child.

Adam knew he was starting to get a bit tired, but what he wasn't expecting, was to see a figure illuminated in his lights, off to the left of the road. They looked small and pale, and Adam had heard tales of sex workers getting dumped out in the middle of the desert and left to die. He screeched his car to a halt, just past the person, and rolled down his window. He was a bit surprised to see it was a man, but he was still thin, short, and didn't look real capable. And, more startling, he had splatters of blood on his shirt.

"Fuck man, you good?" Adam asked, brows knit together. The figure walked up closer to the window, and blinked at him owlishly for a second.

"I'm fine, but my car broke down." He said, his voice a deeper tone than Adam expected to hear come out of his body. "I...hit a deer."

That explained the blood then, Adam thought to himself. Fuckin' mule deer were all over Arizona. "I'm headed up north, did you want a ride? Could drop you at the nearest mechanic, but it'll probably be a few hours."

He stared at Adam blankly for a second, before a sharp grin started to spread across his face, pulling too wide at the corners, and his canines seemed weirdly long. "I would appreciate it...?"

"Adam, my name is Adam." He answered, and unlocked the door so he could walk around and get in the passenger seat. The man sat down, and Adam could smell the metallic scent of blood all over him. "You like music? I blast it while I'm driving."

"I love music," the stranger answered, staring unwaveringly at Adam, to the point he was starting to wonder if he'd hit his head in the car accident. "Will you sing for me?"

Adam paused, revving the engine of his old truck. "...Sure? Where's your car, by the way, I can get the coordinates."

"Oh, it's fine. It wasn't mine anyway." He said with a light laugh, but it put Adam on edge.

"... You said you hit a deer, right?" Adam asked, fingers tightening a bit on the wheel. Something about the guy was starting to freak him out, even if he was likely a fourth of what Adam weighed, and about a foot shorter.

"Sure," he responded, still smiling. "A deer. Yes."

"O...kay... You're not hurt, right? That's a good amount of blood on you." Adam asked, slowly starting to roll back down the road.

"I'm fine," he responded instantly. "Can you take me wherever you're going instead?"

Adam hesitated. He didn't want to say no, the guy was starting to give him serial killer vibes, even if Adam couldn't see any weapons on him. "Yeah, sure. What's your name?"

"Lucifer." Oh, great, he was a serial killer and insane.

"How long have you been out here?"

"Not sure, feels like hundreds of years. It's good to finally be free."

[wafflexdguy]

Murder Drones | Realizing their feelings towards you

Rewriting this from my old book, which is outdated.

Pre-Episode 1 just for the sakes of simplicity.

Reminder you're a worker drone here.

In this scenario, they don't confess, I'll save that for a different chapter.

CW! Swearing

---------Uzi---------

Well, it was bound to happen at some point. You cared for her like nobody else did -outside of N, but this takes place pre-ep 1- and didn't treat her like she didn't belong. You took interest in her hobbies and actually seemed to care about her.

Her reaction to it would be one of confusion and maybe slight panic. She didn't expect herself falling for someone, much less anyone at all. Think of the hours that would be wasted on some stupid relationship! No, she had to keep up her little edgy persona.

At least, until she talked to you again. All of a sudden, she forgot all about what her policy was. What was she on about not being in a relationship with you?

The confusion starts to kick in around when you start actually flirting with her if you return the affection, or just extroverted yourself. She usually just waves you off if she's in the middle of something, or yells at you when in the middle of class.

"sHUT UP-"

Whenever your outside of class though, she's more open to it. Not totally against it, but it'll become obvious that she'll want it to stop after her visor is full of blush lines and her just pushing you away. Note that she'll never verbally tell you to stop and only do the tsundere 'ugghgghhghghgh' and try and push past you if your Infront of her.

You'll get rare moments where she'll actually return the compliments, only for her to just say "Don't look at me like that!"

Yeesh, get a room you two.

--------------N---------------

I think he'd realize pretty quickly after your constant affection towards him. Whether that be platonic or not, it definitely caught his eye on how nice you were to him. A murder drone. Then again, he wasn't hostile to you, even after the whole 'incident' with him.

His reaction to it would definitely be an 'oh shit' kind of moment for him, because while, yes, he would absolutely take up a relationship with you in a heartbeat if he could muster up the courage, he also has the whole 'Disassemble all worker drones' thing to deal with, which is where problems start to occur and where he feels the most guilty about.

He will subtilty flirt with you, however. Though, this is primarily through compliments and attempting to lean on a wall that isn't there. You don't bully him for it though, which he should feel honored about, but it's what he's come to expect, as selfish as that may sound. (to him)

He'd never let V or J figure out that he had an attraction to someone else, much less a worker drone of all people. And as mentioned before, that's where problems start to arise. He has feelings towards you, but he actually daydreams (nightdreams?) about you, and that's where J, his boss, gets really pissed off about, and damn near killed him for it.

You'll notice that he seems happier around you, because he'll start showing off around you, like doing anything that'll impress you. You'll continue to praise him for it, and he'll get that extra boost it takes to put up with V and J.

He does occasionally try to obviously flirt with you, pretty terribly kind of? He'll do kind of a flirty face, which just ends up looking goofy or just right. It's really inconsistent, but it's not like it matters because like always, you don't judge him for it.

He won't tell you about his feelings yet. It's not really your problem, anyway... Right?

-------------V---------------

It'd take her awhile to really figure it out. It's not like it immediately clicked for her that she was into you at all, because she never really thought about it. Never even considered the possibility that she may have been attracted to you until you mentioned the constant 'flirting', which was -in her mind- meant to be teasing was "Almost as if you like me or something". When you said that, it's like a switch flipped that she realized that you were right.

Her reaction to it would be mostly denial with a tinge of slight melancholy. Sure, she may like you back, but that might not last for long, because of the whole 'mission' thing. You might catch on to this and mention it once or twice, but she'll just wave it off as nothing important. And in some ways, she was right. It wasn't important in the grand scheme of things.

Until she actually started really thinking about it, and realized it was important to her.

The way she really goes about her feelings towards you is sticking around you more casually and being less of a nuisance and more of an actual friend, or just a flirty nuisance. It doesn't really matter, since she is technically getting the point across.

That transition is slow however, because none of those second thoughts really disappear immediately, and it has her more of just rethinking her relationship with you. For some reason, she can't really imagine a future without you. She finds herself beating herself up for it, because deep in her core, she knows there isn't really anything wrong with having an attraction towards you, but at the same time, you're still a worker drone. The very thing she's supposed to destroy.

And despite her background, you don't care. You treat he like a regular person.

You'll start to notice that she starts to become less psychopathic around you, and actually just hangs around you just because she wants to, and you not having to really hunt her down just to hang out with her. That's not to say she'll just stop suddenly threatening you, because if you start to tease that she seems that she doesn't want to hurt you, she'll think she's proving you wrong by acting more sadistic. It annoys her to some extent when you don't feel threatened by it.

Yeah, she isn't really the best at... expressing her feelings, and just tries to keep it to herself. It's not like you'll return the feelings anyway, so why bother?

That's what she keeps telling herself.

----------J-----------

Oh fucking dammit.

She almost immediately realizes after the first few times that she fails to kill you. You just kind of start talking to her about the things she likes, and generally shifted the vibe from a hostile atmosphere one she actually felt somewhat comfortable in.

She realizes her feelings to you the third time she didn't try to kill you, or internally realized that she didn't want to kill you. It left her being angry -mostly at herself, kind of at you- that she let herself have sentimental feelings to a being below her. How could her priorities just... shift like that?! It leaves her confused and semi-frightened. What if it figures out?

She won't ever show that she likes you if she can help it, but there are a few times where she lets the mask slip, like laughing at one of your puns, or showing genuine interest in one of the stories you like, or just seeming really comfortable in your presence, opposite of the impatient 'I want to get back to work' stance.

Like V, she also feels a little Melancholic. Not because she thinks it's pointless or anything; but because she knows it's pointless. Eventually, it's going to come to copper 9, and all of that emotional attachment she got to you would end up in the shitter.

Unlike canon, you might be an actual reason she'll just switch sides from thinking that Cyn can't be beat, to 'I can at least try', but I'm getting off topic.

Like one of my previous oneshots, she's absolutely going to be somewhat abusive towards you, and it's just going to be you trying to slowly change her to someone that doesn't have to do this, that she can be happy. That she doesn't have to bow down to someone that ruined her life. She ignores you at first, but the more you keep pushing, the more she gets pissed off. But the thing is, is that as pissed as she is, she does listen. She does start to second guess everything, and that's where you finally start seeing a shift in attitude from her.

When you do finally get through to her, she'll just be more casual around you. She still has that 'I'm loyal to the multibillion-dollar company' kind of deal to her, but it's a lot more manageable. She doesn't try to shove it in your face, and actually becomes good company to be around.

She goes from "fuck you I'll kill you' to 'touch them, you die'. But it's not an overnight thing.

[sen-ya]

Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

[chronologically-challenged]

There was this one art a little while ago about the family stuck in a situation where they're forced to play ISAT in some post game scenerio. I keep having many thoughts, but here's some about them figuring out who Loop is:

1) They all BAFFLED by how Loop usually talks. They all thought Loop was this shy little star person. Immediately, they get hit with "have you tried not dying~~~~" into "I think you deserve help" and do not know what to think.

2) Odile is in charge of the controller. Mainly bc no one else wants to control Siffrin and they all have equal amount of video game experience aka none, so Odile is being practical about it. This has the side effect that Odile gets to be all investigative. Odile makes it her MISSION to find stuff out about Loop.

3) Siffrin has complicated feelings about them finding out about Loop??? Like okay they HATE their family has to see all this, ESPECIALLY THAT THEY CAN SEE HIS THOUGHTS!!!! But. Loop. Siffrin hasn't told his family the truth. It's not his story to tell. But. If they figure it out...? In a way that proves Loop wrong, right? That they can recognize them. Maybe it takes a bit because Loop looks different is and actively trying to be different from Siffrin. But. Maybe...? Either way they encourage Odile to talk to Loop. If this is a simulation... if this is real in some way even... yeah he wants to talk to Loop.

Anyway here's a list on how they find out one by one:

Odile: She catches the little stuff. She notes the royal We, the fact that Loop alludes to having an old body by accident, the casual familiarity in some places. All of that. She is also the first to note their eyes being different shades. However, Odile doesn't make the connection 100%, not until Isabeau. Well.

Isabeau: He gets some of the weird stuff Loop says but not as many as Odile. HE finds Loops side comments weirder. He sees Loop's reactions and they're a bit. Uncanny.... and then he has another realization, Loop and Siffrin have the same eyes. When Isabeau notes this, it all clicks for Odile.

Mirabelle: Okay, so. You cannot tell me that Mirabelle has not read fantasy stories with weird guide characters. She has to have!!!! So at first, she's not even looking for who Loop is. And tbh? She has the best read on Loop's personality otherwise. Sassy, but clearly caring. A bit of a shit, but serious when needed. And mainly, she appreciates Loop Being There when the rest of them couldn't. That being said, the moment where the "have you wondered who I am" happens. And suddenly Mirabelle Is Thinking Of the Possibilties. And then the ME option pops up!!!! Odile was already about to pick it but Mirabelle YELLS to pick that one!!!!! Uh. Shortly after that they all have a conversation about how yeah, Loop is VERY likely Siffrin. Mirabelle justifies herself with tropes. Of course!!! Of course they're Siffrin!!! If they're anyone they have to be Siffrin. Siffrin got transformed and became the guide they needed!!!! It Just Makes Sense.

Bonnie: ....Tbh doesn't really figure it out on their own? But also. Loop. Feels like Frin. Not exactly like Frin. But they're Frin enough to be trusted so who cares. It takes awhile for them to really get it too because... it's weird. Also they're the one to really ask why there would be two Frins??? Duh??? And why would Frin become Loop???

Anyway, basically, after picking "Me?" They pretty much are all on the same page. They got that it was wishcraft. They got Loop is Siffrin somehow. I think Odile might figure out that "hey, uh if Loop is the guide then what happens when Loop doesn't have a guide" and Mirabelle probably says "wait Siffrin didn't you say to me once that without Loop you wouldn't have made it?"

Meanwhile Siffrin is a mix of sad and very emotionally touched. Because. Yeah. Even when trying to actively hide, their family recognized them.

Notably, Siffrin gets them to twohats (Siffrin remembers that they understood Loop most after showing them the coin. So yes, the family does get to see Siffrin's "I will forget everything I love" moment. Goes as well as you expect. Lots of hugs and the reassurance that they will bug Siffrin until the end of their days so he can't forget him so HA!)

But yeah. Siffrin really wants to make sure they can get little simulation Siffrin to realize Loop is Siffrin as well. Because if there is any chance of this being real and that they're guiding a Siffrin in another reality, then they want to make sure they can get Loop to know just how much they did. How much they helped and changed Siffrin's fate for the better.

To note: I'd imagine in this scenario, Odile wouldn't go do any of the side stuff. At least not too much of it. There wouldn't be as much exploration either. Siffrin likely would be very underleveled as a result.

So perhaps in this scenario? Imagine if you will that while the Siffrin watching definitely defeated Loop, the simulation Siffrin loses.

And Siffrin finds out that... no. No! Of course Loop couldn't kill him. Of course they wouldn't. There is a catharsis to that realization.

(After they finish the game, either a) prologue playthrough time or b) they're freed and the group IMMEDIATELY try to figure out a way to find Loop bc uh??? Even if they weren't Siffrin, they want to find them. But like. Two Frins. Two Frins they know are different but who cares, no matter who Loop chooses to be, Loop Is Family Too).

Anyway, family plays isat featuring the Loop Saga.

[bowandcurtsey]

when y/n's ex appears Pt 1.

BC boys: Yuno | Zora | Luck [Part 1]

JJK: Sukuna | Gojo [Part 2]

Haikyuu: Kuroo | Nishinoya | Sakusa [Part 3]

x f! reader

This is gonna be a 3 part series because there's a lot of characters and the tags are gonna be so long so I just decided to put them into 3 parts in the end. Enjoy!!

Yuno Grinberryall

{So your ex shows up at the golden dawn base to ask you for help with his parents. And although reluctantly, you agreed to help a little because his parents treated you so well when you both were together.}

Yuno is extremely quiet all of a sudden. Eerily quiet. Plotting-someone's-death kinda quiet.

It was obvious the scumbag could settle his family shit on his own but he's just pulling on loose strings trying to get you back.

How could he ever hold a candle to Yuno? Yuno was a humble man but even he himself knew it; your ex could never compare to him.

But there was an eenie weeny part of him that asked: what if?

What if as you spent time together again and with his parents, you miss the old times? Or you realised he's not that bad after all? or worst, fall in love with him again?

When you came home, he'd still didn't talk much. he didn't know what to say either. He didn't want to ask how was your day because he doesn't want to know how you spent it with him.

He didn't want to ask why do you even do all these because he doesn't want to make you feel bad. he knew you did it because you were kind and you don't forget people that were once kind to you.

He loved you for you, so instead, he chose to keep quiet and pull you closer whenever you came home, hugging you close to his chest, nuzzling into your hair, to remind him that you're his. All his.

At some point you know you're hurting his feelings by being close with your ex again, so you reassure him again and again, that once the matter is resolved, you'll cut all contact with your ex.

Just add some cheesy, mushy compliment and Prince Yuno will be all blushing and feeling good again.

Zora Ideale

{Your ex came to the black bulls base, running away from some perpetrators, begging for protection and a place to hide at for awhile. He said he's do anything and he could do cleaning and odd jobs for free. Of course your captain Yami wasn't gonna give up on a free errand boy. Besides, it was only temporary.}

This man was salty af. He would side eye him, stare him down, prank him ALL THE TIME.

Your ex would get a stink bug multiple times a day at random places. Like his pockets, his shoes, his hair even.

Zora was extra snappy with your ex. He would nitpick even on the smallest things.

"It's "you are". not "your". dimwit."

Or he was extremely mean to him.

"You missed a spot here. can't even clean properly."

If you ever told Zora to "be nice" or anything along the line, he'd get upset. He'll give you the look and he'll roll his eyes a little.

Man simply does not care about your ex's feelings or whatsoever. In his eyes, your ex was a low-life for ever hurting you before and he hated the fact that he's now trying to squeeze his way into your life again.

Cue the extreme display for public affections. *Jeng Jeng Jeng*

He'll put his hands around your waist, on your ass, on your shoulders, in your hair, on your thighs. More often than normal.

If you thought that Zora has never cared before this, you're wrong. Now he's even more shameless. He could pull you in for a kiss just in front of your ex's face if he thinks that he's checking you out. (he barely took a glance). And he's always lying on your lap if you're sitting in the shared living room.

Zora never used to care about what you wore in the past. But now, you're not allowed to wear shorts or skirts above the knee. You're also not allowed to wear sleeveless clothes.

If you argue, he'd say: "well, you're the one that wanted to let that leacher in, so dress up unless I'll kick him out and you can be naked for all I care."

Behind closed doors, he's become more of the big spoon. Usually he's also happy being caressed in your arms, but during the period that your ex was here, he always held you firmly in his arms as he slept.

Luck Voltia

{well, you bumped into him when the bulls were on a mission. It had been awhile since you guys talked, so your ex was really keen in catching up. He comes to look for you at every chance he got - during patrol duties, during events, during your off days. Somehow he's appear.}

Luck was initially friendly to him. Asking him if he wanted to spar. Even when he introduced himself as your ex, Luck simple introduced himself as your boyfriend, proudly. He did not even batter an eyelid when your ex said that you used to date.

Your ex tried to spar with Luck but of course Luck would beat him hands down. Your ex tried multiple of times for the first few times they met. But he ended up just embarrassing himself, and Luck would always laugh.

Of course your ex being the stingy and petty person he was, he took it to heart and tried to complain about Luck to the Magic Parliament about a Magic Knight injuring a civilian.

Well, he obviously did not win because he then angered Captain Yami because Yami had to waste his time on a minor issue.

Luck finally understood what your ex was getting at and he then showed no mercy to your ex.

"so... you complaint that I injured you on purpose? Maybe let me show you what is on purpose..." he had a smile on his face when he said it, and it was hella scary.

Luck was on his tail for a good month, teasing him, pranking on him, chasing after him EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Luck was so fast, you didn't even know what happened but in the blink of an eye, your ex was sprawled on the floor. If your ex was headed somewhere, you bet Luck would bring him all the way back to the start point just as he was about to reach his destination.

Whatever your ex touched, was leave a static shock and Luck would just laugh. Your ex could never even find any evidence of Luck playing him or even touching him.

It went on until your ex had to kneel in front of Luck, begging him to stop, "I will never appear in front of you or y/n again, so please leave me off the hook!"

That night, Luck asked you if you would be sad to never see your ex again. "I'm sorry if I went too far this time round..."

But of course you reassured him that you have not seen your ex in ages and of course you would never mind not ever seeing him again.

And Luck was back to his jovial self.

[syoddeye]

useless, part three

Part three (and the finale!) of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. As a reminder, I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. I finally used my third prompt.

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years

14. Opposites attract

66. Price or Reader is auctioned off for a date as part of a fundraiser

cw: one pregnancy mention (Reader does not get pregnant, has never been pregnant)

Read Part One, Part Two. Tag list: @v1x3n @kiranezra

~4.2k words, Price x f!Reader. This is the most self-indulgent shit I've written in awhile. Please enjoy.

It's past midnight when you limp through the front door of your flat, dropping belongings and articles of clothing alike, shedding both the weight of personhood and your eighteen-hour day. You set your keys down on the end of the counter, ignoring the thin folder for the umpteenth time. James will undoubtedly text about it in the morning, his patronizing messages more reliable than any alarm clock. A half-hour commute home, and you didn't even glance at your phone in fear of accidentally seeing another email from his lawyer. Solicitor. Whatever.

Hamhock slinks out from his lair beneath the bed, weaving between your ankles when you drag yourself into the bathroom.

"Hello Hammy," You whisper, eyeing the newer crop of gray hairs near your roots with a weary neutrality. Definitely the fundraiser's fault. Your hair started to change long before this year's planning began, but this is the longest period you've gone without dyeing it. One thing to thank James for. Not only did his departure give you a crystal clear focus, it freed you from his ridiculous expectations. He'd've commented the moment he spotted the wisps of silver, then casually worked something like anti-aging cream into the conversation.

The prick poisoned the well, and now the only man in the world for you currently lies at your feet. How it should've been from the start, really.

After checking the orange menace's automatic feeder, you slip into bed, allow him to assume his nocturnal throne—your armpit—and plug your phone in one-handed. Your eyes glaze over at the sight of notifications, thumb swiping by muscle memory, and set an alarm. With two weeks left until the big day and more than a hundred unsold tickets, you need every moment you can get. You sigh, counting the tasks of the day ahead instead of sheep.

You'll sign the divorce papers tomorrow.

~~

Naomi practically forces the granola bar into your hands. The assistant stage manager and the props lead—the younger woman is the glue to your glue. A newer fixture at the Bramble Theatre, she was you to an extent, maybe a decade ago: fresh-faced, eager, and optimistic.

"I didn't like how you were looking at the wax fruit."

"We should swap the oranges for plums. Or pears."

"We've been through this. The oranges fit the palette, from the paintings to Dotty's–oh, quit pulling my leg."

You grin, then jut your chin at the stack of slips in her hand. "Are those the waivers? Did all the volunteers sign?"

"Yes, I can post headshots today on socials, so that should boost sales."

"Good. That's one fire extinguished," Rubbing your temple, you lean back in your chair. "I feel gross about it, though. I mean, we run shows that are hundreds of years old, but a date auction? Why don't we raise a guillotine out front and sacrifice effigies to raise money?"

Naomi blinks and whips out her phone. "...Okay, one, I'm noting the effigy idea for next year, but two, the auction won the vote, and everyone participating volunteered."

You grimace. "I know, it's just–"

The sudden opening of the door to your shoebox office interrupts. Theodore, business manager, director, and occasional movement coach, bursts in. Everybody's a multi-hyphenate.

"Terrible news!"

Wonderful. A new fire. You squint, chewing, and watch Naomi try to stifle a laugh valiantly. "Whatever could this be about?"

The older man slams his palms onto your desk, his layered pendants tinkling. "I've punched the numbers, including a best scenario, stars aligning–"

"Teddy. Out with it."

"–we're going to be £40,000 short. Even if we sell out, even if we raffle off the company like cattle, we are circling the drain!"

The tired amusement leaves your body, and in its wake sits a five-digit number and the distant idea to schedule a salon appointment.

The annual fundraiser for the theater, your hard-won home, is a dramatic, demanding, and near-disastrous event every year. The theater has continuously operated a hair above the red, but the laundry list of expenses from the last year cannot be ignored. The new light rig, the stage flooring replacement, the curtain repairs—they never stop. Sponsors and grants only go so far.

Originally, you took this job for its laughable but slightly higher pay and because running around like a madwoman between four gigs at a time wasn't as thrilling or charmingly bohemian as it was in your twenties. Your livelihood depends on the playhouse's success. And the economy. And the general public's attitude toward the arts. All wildly variable. It made you resourceful, and already, you were composing a mental list of people to politely bully for pledges promised in years past. You need time and a phone charger.

"Teddy," you set the half-eaten granola bar down. "Go get ready for afternoon rehearsal. Naomi, cover for me today?"

"'Course."

Theodore swipes his spindly fingers over his brow, nodding fervently at your resolve. "If anyone can pull it off, it's you. Do tell if there is anything yours truly can do." With a flourish, the director departs your office, but Naomi lingers.

"You know if it's donations we need…"

You shake your head, immediately knowing what she intends to suggest. "Out of the question."

"But think of her–"

"I'd rather debase myself and resort to dinner theatre."

"I'm just saying–"

"Naomi," You stress. "I am not calling my mother."

She frowns. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Are you really so proud you wouldn't leverage your family's connections to save the Bramble?"

It makes you pause. As usual, she's right. Irritatingly so. You could take another salary cut, but you'd need to find a flatshare, a humiliating idea. Hammy wouldn't survive it, the sensitive thing. You sigh and dismiss her with a wave.

"Fine I won't rule it out. But I'm going to shake down half the city first."

~~

An hour later, you've managed to secure a percentage. Not too shabby, but far from the goal. You take a break to read James's team's latest, vaguely threatening missives and entertain the idea of withholding your signature until he makes a donation. What's a little extortion in the name of art?

You know it's wrong to delay this ugly process. How close relief is should you simply sign the papers. But it's another failure, another black spot in your life's ledger. Another dream crushed beneath the boot of reality. With a wave of bitterness, you type out a curt reply, ensuring you will sign the papers and ask them to arrange for a courier tomorrow.

Naomi's suggestion takes advantage of your mind's lethargy, testing the strength of your will and stubbornness. The last time you phoned your mother was months ago, on the anniversary of dad's death. The old man took his last bow five years back, and it destroyed the last bridge between you and your formidable mother. In retirement, she still holds court with major political players stateside…and across the pond.

Before you let your loathing catch up, you pull up her contact card and dial. It's after noon in D.C., the middle of the week. You might get lucky and reach her voice–

"Is everything alright? You're not in the hospital, are you?" Her donnish, sharp voice hurtles you through time and space to your teenage years. 

"No," You answer with gritted teeth. A headache waits in the wings. "No, I'm fine, mom."

"Then why are you calling?"

This is why dad handled conversations. You stand, swiftly shutting the door to your office and locking it. "Can't I just call my mom?"

"Of course. Historically, you do not," There's a low murmur of chatter in the background. She's at a luncheon or at the club. "So I assume there is a reason."

Having an ex-ambassador for a mother is a joke. All that practised charm for everyone else in the world, none of it reserved for you. "Okay, yes, there is a reason."

"Thought so. Well, darling, what is it? Is it James? Don't tell me you're pregnant."

You return to your desk and eye the bottle of bourbon on the corner. "No. James and I are divorcing, remember? This is about my work."

There is no acknowledgement of the separation. Instead, your mother pulls the phone away from her mouth, excuses herself from wherever she is, and the background noise dissipates. 

"Your work."

"Yes, the Bramble? Look, we're two weeks out from our big annual fundraiser, and–"

"Oh, you need me to write a check." The clicking of her heels halts abruptly, and if you didn't know any better, she wilts. "Fine. How much do you want?"

Your face heats with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "I am not asking for money. If you would stop interrupting me…Ugh, mom, I need help contacting some of your old friends here. If there's anyone you know looking for tax deductions or a pet project to brag about, the Bramble is in a bad spot financially."

In the past, whenever the theatre and, by extension, your chosen profession came up, your mother took the opportunity to lecture. She reminded you of the wasted opportunities she afforded you. She brought up your old schoolmates and their current positions. And most insulting of all, she always, always compared you to a certain soldier. Bracing yourself for her monologuing, you reached for the bottle.

"Why didn't you open with that, darling?"

Your fingers close around empty air, and you nearly pitch out of your seat in surprise. "What?"

"Send me the information. I've been meaning to reconnect with some old friends. When is the fundraiser?"

"In two weeks," You repeat, scrambling to pull up your email on the ancient desktop. "Tickets are–"

"Email it. I'll book my flights today and let you know when I'm getting in."

Your hands hover over the keyboard, and your neck protests the angle it bends to keep your phone lodged between ear and shoulder. "Oh, no, mom, you don't need to come."

"Nonsense. I'll, of course, make my own donation, and as a donor, I ought to see where my money is going."

Christ. For the Bramble, you remind yourself and exhale. "Okay. You do that. Listen, I have to get going…but mom?" It kills you to say it. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome. Oh, this will be so much fun. I haven't visited since before your father. You know, on the topic of reconnecting, I happened get an email from the Prices the other day, and John–"

There it is. You kick into fourth gear, rattling off your exit. "I've really got to run. Thanks again mom, send me your flight info. Love you. Bye!"

You feel like you've run a marathon and dodged a bullet. And yet, as you send the email and file the waivers, your mind snags on your mother's words. On a name. His name. It's not the first time your unhelpful brain's waylaid you with a trip down memory lane. Admittedly, it's happened more since James asked for the divorce. Most nights, if it isn't life's stresses hounding you, it's an endless parade of what-ifs behind your eyelids.

What if you studied economics instead? What if you stayed in America? What if you hadn't gone to that stupid New Year's party? What if you hadn't kissed John? If you didn't get on the train? 

The people in your circle frequently speak about living life without regrets. It's a romantic notion and a highly unrealistic one.

Your phone buzzes—Naomi. You're needed. Pushing the past where it belongs, back on a dark shelf, and head out to put out another fire. 

~~ 

Three days before the fundraiser, your mother lands in London and hosts you at her hotel for dinner. Playing catch-up is a professional sport with a whirlwind of names you barely remember and memories you remember very differently.

You pick at dessert, listening to another story.

"–and he was so insistent that that school of yours was a breeding ground for monsters, and I told him, isn't that what's needed in today's society? People need thick skin in politics and business. You'll be happy to know, though, he bought four tickets to the fundraiser."

You don't remember who you're talking about but smile and nod. It's a tough pill to swallow, your mother's success at rallying old friends with deep pockets. Teddy's practically in love with her despite having never met her, popping his bald head into your office to sing her praises whenever another pledge arrives.

Your response is rote. "That's wonderful, mom. Thank you."

She prattles on for another half hour before you decide it's time to return home to Hamhock and burn the midnight oil on the fundraiser's date auction. You asked the company for fifty-word bios and actors, bless them, struggle to contain their self-praises. When she finally pauses to take a sip of wine, you rise. "I should head home, lots to do–"

Ignoring you outright, her head turns, and she grins. "There you are!"

Following her gaze, your brow lowers in confusion until you clap eyes on a trio headed in your direction in the company of a server. Very briefly, you consider the melodramatics of matricide. You've been set up.

Mr. and Mrs. Price look well for their age, puttering toward your mother. They are greyer and a little shorter, but the warmth is there.

John, however…

The universe is intent on humbling you.

The hair is the first thing you notice. Short, kempt, and annoyingly a dark shade of brown. It's crept southward onto his face in a beard of a choice style. There is comfort in the finer details that clarify as he nears. He hasn't escaped time's passing with a face marked by crow's feet, frown lines, and forehead furrows. Beneath his shirt, there's a slight suggestion of a belly, though, with his thick arms and the narrowing of his waist, he's clearly a wall of muscle.

The worst part is how infuriatingly kind his smile looks. It's the beard. Softens him. Once an arrogant prick, always an arrogant prick.

John rumbles your name in a whisper, reeling you in for a polite peck on the cheek. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

You're years beyond fifteen and twenty-five, but how swiftly the impulse to snark resurfaces is alarming. Maturity tempers you. "You look good, too."

After a few minutes of greetings, the two of you are tasked with heading to the bar to fetch drinks. Wholly unnecessary what with a server, but it's a clear command to let the 'adults' talk for a spell. Nevermind being shy of forty. John's quick to try conversation when the order's in.

"You haven't changed a bit," He observes, leaning against the bar beside you. 

"Now there's something a woman wants to hear after a decade." You huff, casting your eyes across the restaurant, finding it difficult to look at him. The dark blue of his sweater makes his eyes pop.

"Fourteen years, actually," He corrects. "Drinking martinis, actin'…"

You snort. "You're half right. The Martini half."

His elbow gently knocks into yours atop the bar. "Apologies. My mother told me you'd been in My Fair Lady last summer."

That draws your attention. "No. The theater put it on, but I'm the stage manager. I haven't been on stage in ages." Your eyes flicker to the table, then back to him. Heat crawls up your collar. What other information has your mother passed along? Glancing down at your bare ring finger, you turn the conversation. "Not so different from a Captain, I reckon. How's that going?"

John squints a little, and his mouth pulls into a familiar smirk, tugging at old strings in your stomach. "Can't complain."

"Riveting stuff," He chuckles at that, a deep rasping sound, and you find yourself grinning. "Don't suppose that bit of clandestine, secret agent-type shit your mom's talked about?"

"Secret agent?"

"Yeah. Mentioned it in a Christmas card maybe three years ago?" You smile triumphantly into your glass. Seems both your mothers have a penchant for dressing up the truth.

His jaw works a tick, and something heavy passes behind his eyes. "Well, 'm not. Not exactly."

"Let me guess. If you told me, you'd have to kill me?"

He refocuses some, and a short laugh leaves him. "Something like that."

It's all painfully familiar, but it feels different with a little more life under your belt. His mere presence keeps you on your toes, yet you haven't felt this comfortable in months. For all the history and tension, talking to him is easy. A silence passes, the drinks arrive, and you ferry them to the table.

The night passes better than you expected when you first saw the Prices. They express belated condolences over your father, you chat about the fundraiser, and John politely navigates questions about his work. It frightens you when he briefly mentions Piccadilly to know he'd been there in the carnage. Part and parcel of military life, you guess. 

"John, be a gentleman and walk her to the station," His mother chides as the five of you congregate in the hotel lobby.

"He doesn't need to do that," You hastily say. Not again.

"'Course."

There is something dreadfully giddy to how your parents wish you both goodnight.

At least you do not need to take his arm this time. Still, there is no way John isn't thinking about that night. Not when that look of quiet desperation he wore is seared within your memory. It's silly, but you peeked at his hands earlier, and like yours, they're naked.

You break the silence to fish. "How long are you on leave?"

"A week. Got in yesterday."

"Do you normally visit your parents?"

"Often."

Doesn't mean there isn't a woman in his life. 'Often' is not 'always'. 

"Visit anyone else? Friends?"

He chuckles. "Sometimes."

You roll your eyes. "You know, you haven't changed much either. Aside from the beard and smoker's lung. Still a stunning conversationalist."

John smirks down at you. "Picked it up in the army."

Oh, yes. He remembers.

The conversation lulls, and the walk is short. You figure John's keen on a repeat when he wordlessly escorts you to the platform. But today's not a holiday, and the station is reasonably busy. He watches like a hawk, nonetheless, when you check the time.

"Brings back memories," He quietly comments.

Nodding, your thumb rubs where your wedding band used to rest. "Sure does." You respond and meet his gaze.

You studied theater, moved back to London, went to the party, and kissed John. You didn't regret those choices—only one.

The invitation flies out of you as your train emerges from the tunnel.

"Do you want to meet Hamhock?"

~~

"He's…certainly orange."

"Don't rush to spend all your compliments at once," You glare, arms full of Ham, then coo at the cat. "John's jealous because he's going grey in the beard."

"I am not."

"Saw them on the Tube. Can't those from me," You tease and set the cat down, giving your kitchen a quick glance. A silver lining of work eating up your schedule is that you last cleaned two weeks ago, and it's held.

"What're those on your head then?" He gestures with a finger and toes off his shoes. 

"Details of a person ageing gracefully." You play it confidently, but part of you holds a breath.

He hums and sidesteps Hamhock. "Suits you. It's pretty."

Maybe inviting him over is a mistake. The bolt that runs through you from the compliment pokes at something you thought buried. "What a gentleman," You try to inject as much sarcasm as possible, but your voice quivers. "I'll be right back. Sit tight?"

You leave John in the kitchen to retreat to the bathroom to regroup. Come on, you scold yourself over the basin for getting worked up. It's just John. 

And yet, what remains of your confidence perches on a cliffside at the sight of John pointedly staring at the folder of your copies of the divorce papers on the counter. Fantastic.

His small smile is genuinely sympathetic. It's enraging.

"Y'know, I knew you were married…When I didn't see a ring at the hotel, though, I wondered."

Your chest tightens, and you shove the folder into a bookshelf. "Yep. Finalized the divorce two-ish weeks ago."

You're not in the mood to be reminded of your failures.

"Sorry it didn't work out," John murmurs.

"That's life. That's how it works sometimes," You exhale, then force a smile. "Want a drink? Bourbon? Wine?"

He lets you change the subject, and you let him have a glass of whiskey.

You sit on opposite ends of your short couch, Hamhock acting as a gentlemanly barrier. The conversation rekindles itself after a few fingers of liquor, and eventually, John migrates to the floor, idly playing with the cat. You confide in him about your worries about the event and whether the funds raised will be enough, and he listens. There is no condescension, no bulldozing. Not a trace of smugness at all when he makes suggestions. You don't realize how you've slipped into an old, practically ancient formation until he peers back, eyes creasing from laughter. You're fifteen again, and it is useless to deny it – you are regrettably in love with John Price.

"Can I confess something?" He suddenly asks as your cat waddles off with a catnip toy in his mouth.

Your heart lurches. "If it's a crime, I'm a terrible conspirator." 

"No. Nothin' like that, but I lied earlier." He chuckles, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. "My mother didn't tell me about My Fair Lady."

"What do you mean?"

John turns sheepish. "I came an' saw it when I was on leave last summer. Thought I'd surprise you, but I got to the theater and lost my nerve."

Instantly, you pick through scraps of memories from the production. There is no way you would have known he was in attendance, not with how hellishly busy you are. 

"You, Captain John Price, lost your nerve?"

Color blooms high on his cheeks, and he turns on the floor, rubbing his neck. "I knew you're not acting but I didn't know how to mention it without soundin' like a prick." His eyes look soft. Different from how they looked that night in his parent's garden. Steady, unwavering, but soft. "I know I'm not good with words. I seem to have a talent for making you angry. But I really am happy to see you. Didn't think I'd get another chance after how I bungled it all those years ago at the train–"

At your grown ages, the angle of the kiss is inadvisable. The two of you fix it without parting, and his hands cup your face when you're finally standing toe-to-toe. 

He touches your foreheads together when breathing becomes necessary. "Change anything?"

You don't answer. You lead him to your bedroom and exile the cat.

~~

The fundraiser goes off with a predictable amount of hitches. The caterer is an hour late and forgets half the hors d'oeuvres. The bar runs out of red wine early. Two actors from the children's company slap-fight on stage. Nothing you, Naomi, and Teddy can't fix with elbow grease and stage magic. The caterers re-course. Naomi calls in a favor from her bartender girlfriend. And the children forget their quarrel when they're called upon to defeat Captain Hook.

What you are not prepared for is one of the actors calling out sick, leaving you one date short for the auction. You waste an hour trying to convince one of your fellow techies to step in.

Naomi corners you when you stress-eat a comically tiny piece of toast swiped from a tray. 

"You know, if one person is all we need…"

"Your girlfriend won't be mad?"

"Ha-ha, don't get cheeky. C'mon, isn't it time you got back out there?" 

You suppress a smug smile. Naomi has no idea. Nobody does. You've gotten back out there and then some. 

"Did I not tell you I was grossed out by the auction?"

She's relentless. "Are you really so proud you wouldn't debase yourself a little for the Bramble?"

"Absolutely not."

You'd said it with such conviction, so it's a puzzle when you find yourself waiting in the stage wing, makeup hurriedly refreshed. It takes all your courage and grace not to stumble to Teddy's side when he calls your name. He improvises an introduction on the fly, and you nearly laugh when you realize this is the first time you've been on the stage, under a spotlight, in years.

The bidding opens, and you hold your breath, letting it go when a few unfamiliar voices call out numbers. A humbling embarrassment clutches you by the throat. But then a paddle raises more confidently in the front row. The light is bright, but you know whose hand hoists it high.

~~

He collects you at the end of the night as you lock up.

"There's my prize."

You can't stop the grin that splits your face. "It's just a date, John."

"Yeah, doin' things a bit out of order, aren't we?" A glimmer of his younger, puffed-up self shines through, and his hand envelops yours.

As you walk, your elbow digs into his ribs, "What will our mothers say?"

"That a big deal to you?"

"To some people."

"Well, love, you're not 'some people'."