#but first i must backtrack a bit

[lunarrumor]

i was so right to claim sharpest tool oh my god

the refrain and the pre-chorus are so addicting

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。take my time (i’ll spend it all on you) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo sees you in lingerie for the first time. 

contains: f!reader, suggestive almost nsfw (they make out… maybe a bit steamy), 18+ just in case, reader is in lingerie, shy feelings!! gojo down bad!!

a/n: i hc that the first time gojo sees you in lingerie, it’s like seeing you walk down the aisle—he’s a bit sappy like that! i also think that he’d love seeing his lover in pink! idk! it’s just the vibes! (col reader would look cute in pink too i think hehe complements the personality!); takes place later on, around col #4 (wip)

collection masterlist: conversations on love 3.5b. —will i ever bring you peace? <- you are here -> +04b (extra). if you're ready (let me) + 04. these traces of love, they outline you

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

There are few things in life that have earned Gojo’s double take: 

A sign for a newly-opened gelato shop with ‘exclusive flavors for the first 30 customers!’ written in fine print; Megumi, back in middle school, being confessed to with a sweetly handcrafted box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day; a small cut, right at the tip of his nose from that time you sparred with him and he let you get too close (or so he says). 

And now you. 

In something pink—

—that if he backtracks just a bit, steps one foot behind the other to glance again at the space left open by the bedroom door, and squints—

He’s certain, 200% sure. 

It’s lingerie. 

He blinks once, twice, rubs at his eyes even as his mind attempts to catch up to whatever it is–you–he just saw. This must be what wires feel when they short circuit. 

You know he’s home, right? You have to, you just told him to rinse the dishes after snacking.

And he was in the middle of doing that—walking across your apartment from couch to kitchen, stopping only to do a double take at the sight of pink in his periphery, at you, once he looked again, clearly. 

Or were you doing this on purpose? Did you want him to see you? 

He gulps, warmth spreading from the tips of his ears down to his neck, lingering. 

There’s only one way to find out, really. 

He walks down the hallway leading to the bedroom, keeping his footsteps light so as to not startle you.

If he’s being honest right now, his mind is full to the point of feeling empty—too many thoughts swirling around the fact that behind this very door, he’s about to find you in pink lingerie. 

And when he takes a deep breath, fingertips pushing on wood very slightly as he calls out, “Bab—“

“S’toru!” you squeal from the other side, panicked as you instantly push it back closed.

So you didn’t do it on purpose. 

“Sorry, give me a minute!” you call out, and he can hear your footsteps from the other side, frantically walking around for what he can assume is you looking for something to cover yourself with. 

But he doesn’t want that. 

Not when he already has the visual of you, pretty in what he suspects is pink lace.

Not when the way you said ‘S’toru’ sounded so much like ‘‘Toru’, your ‘‘Toru’, the way you usually say it pressed against bed sheets, under him, expression blissed out from—

Do you have any idea what that does to him? 

“Are you wearing lingerie?” 

You freeze. Gojo can tell from the other side of the door, and you think, damn it, because he isn’t supposed to know you bought a set, much less see you in it. Not yet. 

You could try to lie, but Gojo always sees through you, through every change in inflection, the way your eyebrow twitches before speaking. 

“Can I come in?” he asks softly, almost hesitantly. 

How can you possibly resist him when he speaks to you like this? Asking permission as if this space you live in isn’t as much his?

You sigh, flustered at being caught this way, “Can you close your eyes first?” 

He follows, laying one hand over his eyes for good measure before knocking on the door. You open it slowly, wood creaking as he steps inside. 

You feel a little naked right now despite how he isn’t even looking your way, opting to face the side opposite from where you’re standing. It’s on purpose, you know, he can tell where you are—Six Eyes and all. 

There’s a smile that he’s hiding, biting his lower lip to stop it from showing. His toes are wiggling from the excitement coursing through him.

You know Gojo will like you in anything; in fact, he’s made it very clear that he prefers you in nothing—but still. Your stomach feels queasy and you can’t get rid of how nervous you’re feeling. 

And you guess, it’s really just because this was meant to be a surprise for him—the design you’ve chosen, how it looks on your body, how it looks to him, especially. You’d ordered the lingerie set months in advance to leave a lot of time for returns, whether it turned out ill-fitting or just unflattering.

You didn’t expect him to catch a glimpse of it now, months before his birthday, before you were even ready. 

“I’m waiting…” he teases, voice sing-song in that way he usually does to annoy you. It always makes you smile though, and it’s an odd form of comforting with how it dulls your jitters right now, just a little bit.

“Okay, you can look.” 

As soon as he turns, you squeeze your eyes shut, hands on your sides as you fiddle with your fingernails. Seeing, knowing his reaction in real time is still nervewracking, regardless of every reassurance you tell yourself—because, what if this is the off-chance that you’re wrong, and he doesn’t like it? 

Or worse: what if he has to pretend he likes it?

You frown a bit—it doesn’t help at all that Gojo isn’t saying anything.

But—

How can he, when there are no words, no adjectives, no possible descriptions to articulate what he’s seeing—what he’s feeling?

If he didn’t die then, in every instance he’s brushed with death: by Toji’s hands, locked up inside that box, in that final moment with Sukuna, nearly halved—

He thinks he might have just died right now. 

Because this? You? In lingerie as pink as all he’s feeling—his cheeks, his nose, flushing down his neck, maybe even his chest if it were exposed. 

It’s heaven. 

You’re a sight. 

While Gojo has certainly seen you in much less, and done with you things much more than just stand with you like this, he’s never seen you in lingerie.

And you’re so pretty. Sexy. All his, he can’t believe it.   

He’s noticing all the little details on it–on you–its shade, almost salmon with a bit of baby pink; its material: sheer net as the base for everything—it’s practically see-through save for the delicate floral lace running across the bra cups and panty front.

The set itself is nice, sure, but he knows he only likes it this much because it’s on you. And he knows he’ll always like anything on you. 

The heat in his stomach is building, spreading, to the single part of him that—

“Is it that bad?” you scrunch your nose, eyes still closed. He looks at you confused, before he realizes: he hasn’t said anything.

He chuckles and you open your eyes, pouting. 

And God, he wishes you didn’t do that. That look on your face—what it does to him.

“I ordered it in advance for your birthday,” you start, pout deepening as you ramble on, “it was supposed to be a surprise, but if you don’t like it, I can still–” 

That’s enough. 

He can’t believe that you actually think he doesn’t like it. 

Gojo steps into your space, close enough to grab you by the waist as his other hand reaches up to slot itself in the area between your ear and your jawline, tilting your head up slightly as he leans in to kiss you. 

It’s rushed at first, almost desperate—hungry, the way he releases his breath only to take you in; your lips, soft in the way he knows them to be, his hand on your waist squeezing. Your fingertips trail to his cheek, almost cupping as his kisses turn deeper, more languid, lips moving against yours slowly, savoring. 

Gojo is a fast learner, and he shows it best in the way he kisses you, as if he’s memorized every way to build that familiar heat within you. You lay your other hand against his chest, gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt as he pulls you closer. 

You bite his lip and suck, just a little bit, the way he likes it, and he moans, lowly, vibrations rippling through your mouth as he holds you steady. He’s hard already; you can feel it pressing against your lower belly. 

And you realize, as a small laugh tears itself away from you, how ridiculous it was for you to even worry. 

You break the kiss, leaning your forehead against his as you keep your noses touching. It’s impossible to tell how Gojo looks, but you have a hunch with how he’s breathing so heavily; the skies in his eyes must be darker, almost gray, turned on by desire—the same one settling deep in your stomach, aching, needy. 

“It’s perfect,” he whispers, lips grazing yours. He traces hearts by your shoulder, something born out of the many times you’ve lain in bed together, playing with the strap of your bra before pulling, a short snap! as he lets go. 

“You like it?” you whisper back, a lilt in your tone, teasing. Your fingers come up to trace his lips and he holds them in place, nipping. 

“Mhm,” he grins, smoothing his hand over the lace details on your bra, his thumb rubbing, “so pretty.” 

He leans in again, a small peck, before asking, “Does this mean I can get my gift now?” 

You laugh, hitting his chest, “It’s not your birthday yet!” 

“Yeah, but what is time anyway?” 

And you know, with the way he’s trailing kisses down your neck, licking and sucking—you’re going to have to find another thing to surprise him with on his birthday. 

.

Later that evening, with your head lying right on his chest, you remember. 

“Oh yeah, the set also came with one of those belt things. Garter, I think? But I wasn’t sure if you’d be into–” 

You’ve never seen Gojo get up from bed faster.

thank you notes: for that anon that asked about whether col reader wears lingerie! + @stellamancer @soumies @crysugu for validating me that pink is in fact col reader's colour ᰔ i also just luv u guys 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[illyrianhaze]

shadowed hearts azriel x reader

✧ how azriel’s shadows led him right to you.

✧ wc: 1.1k

When you and Azriel met, you were standing outside the flower shop you owned in the heart of Velaris, painting a patch of sunflowers below the windows

You saw his shadows before you saw him, the wispy black tendrils pooling around your feet before climbing up your legs and swirling around your body

You watched them with fascination for a moment before you heard Azriel’s voice for the first time from behind you

“I apologize for their behavior. They don’t normally act this way around strangers.”

Or at all, he thought to himself, but all thoughts left his head as he was met with the face of the most beautiful female he had ever seen

You laughed, turning and replying easily to him, “It’s no worry. They’re sweet.”

As you spoke, the shadows lifted to your face and caressed your cheek while tangling themselves in your hair, pleased with the sound of your voice

This was much to the embarrassment and horror of poor Azriel, who was desperately trying to call his rogue shadows back to him

“I’m very sorry,” he apologized again. “They usually listen to me,” He said with a slight annoyance creeping into his voice as he kept trying and failing to pull his shadows away from you

You laughed again, hoping to ease his worries. “Really, it’s no trouble, Azriel.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise that you knew his name, which made you laugh again at the beautiful male in front of you

His shadows, on the other hand, started dancing around you happily, pleased at the sound of azriel's name on your lips

“You know who I am?” Azriel felt a wave of nerves hit him at this discovery, worried that his intimidating and sometimes violent reputation that often preceded him would be enough to scare you away

“Of course I know who you are. You’re pretty famous around here, you know. The feared spymaster of the Night Court, famed protector of the High Lord and Velaris.”

You were teasing him and he knew it, but still Azriel felt himself blush at your praise

Feeling warm at the reaction you were getting from him, and deciding you definitely couldn’t let this rare opportunity to get to know the shadowsinger pass you by, you decided to take a leap of faith with your next words

“Honestly, I feel honored that your illustrious shadows find me so interesting. I must be someone worth getting to know.”

You said the last bit with a sweet smile, hoping they’d make their desired effect

Judging by the blush on his cheeks you guessed that they did

Expecting more silence, you opened your mouth to speak again but stopped as Azriel exhibited a sudden burst of confidence

“They’re a good judge of character. If they think you’re worth getting to know, then I may just have to listen to them.”

You felt his smirk deep in your chest, his incredibly attractive face threatening to knock you off your feet, an attraction that you had never felt before seeping into your bones the longer you looked at him

“How would they feel about you taking me out to dinner this weekend?”

You had never been so bold in your life, but there was something about the male in front of you that made you want to open yourself up for him entirely

A few shadows finally darted back towards Azriel, whispering in his ear telling him to respond positively to your question

Ignoring the shock at his shadows telling him what to do, he thought of the best way to respond for a moment before he spoke

His face remained stoic for a moment long enough that you worried you had crossed a line, but before you could start to backtrack and apologize for overstepping, an amused smile snuck onto his face 

“I believe they would feel honored.”

Both of your smiles were contagious at this point, and the shadows in question were dancing excitedly between the two of you as they were being talked about, knowing they really were being the best damn wingmen in Prythian at the moment

“I’ll be away for a few days, official and scary Night Court protector business.”

You laughed at his teasing, and Azriel was quickly realizing he was going to really miss your smile when he wasn't around you

“I’ll be back Saturday. I can come by and pick you up at six. Does that work?”

You nodded and tried to focus on your breathing as his deep voice was starting to make you feel dizzy

“Then I guess my shadows and I will see you soon, sunflower.”

You smiled but furrowed your brows at the name before remembering what you were doing before he arrived, turning around to see the small yellow sunflowers you had painted below the front window of your shop

You turned back around to reply only to find that the shadowsinger was gone, leaving you feeling lightheaded and wondering if you had dreamed the whole encounter

You went back inside your shop, continuing with your day trying not to think about Azriel and the fact that you actually had a date with the shadowsinger

As you opened the door of your shop at the end of the day to change the sign on it from open to closed, a lone black shadow flew in with a small piece of paper and a single sunflower

You took both, thanking the shadow before it twirled once around your neck and perched upon your shoulder, waiting for you to read the note (that was written in impeccable handwriting, you noticed)

Counting down the days until I can see that smile again. See you soon, beautiful.

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you as you read Azriel's words. Turning your head to the shadow at your shoulder, which was patiently waiting for your response before it would return to Azriel with its report, you couldn't shake off the excitement building inside you

“Tell him I’m looking forward to it.”

You watched as the shadow seemed to nod before sliding quickly past your cheek and racing off into the chilly Velaris night

Clutching the note and the single sunflower to your chest, you made your way towards the stairs leading to your apartment above the shop as a gentle smile graced your face

As you headed towards your bedroom and settled into bed, you realized with a chuckle that amidst the excitement of flirting with Azriel you had forgotten to give him your name

Deciding to fully embrace the anticipation of all you had to learn about each other, you closed your eyes and slipped into dreams painted with visions of Azriel and whispers of his shadows.

a/n: I have so many ideas for these two!! let me know if you’d like to see more of them :)

[millenianthemums]

Cross-posting the first chapter of the Bill & Mabel Friendship AU fic from Ao3 to tumblr! I thought it would be fun to do some chapter art for it. Find the fic on Ao3 here!

————————-

Bill Cipher woke up in darkness.

That was what he thought at first, anyway. Darkness. Pitch black, impenetrable darkness, but nothing that worried him. Just a simple thought and he could light up his surroundings.

He tried. Nothing happened.

That didn’t mean anything, he thought, pushing down a momentary surge of panic. He just needed to focus. He could concentrate better if he snapped his fingers.

He tried. That didn’t work either. He couldn’t snap his fingers. Why couldn’t he snap his fingers? Where were his fingers? Where were his hands?

The panic surged forth again. He tried to relax, but a thousand questions were piling up in his mind. Where was he right now? How did he get here? Why couldn’t he tell where his hands were? It was dark, sure, but he couldn’t even feel them. He couldn’t feel anything . He tried to send his vision outward, reaching his mind out to feel around for a depiction of himself to look through. A better vantage point would help him orient himself. It could be anything. A bit of graffiti scrawled on a dumpster would be enough. Anything that would let him see something other than darkness.

He couldn’t find anything. Why couldn’t he find anything? There were always options, billions of options, billions of little eyes scattered across billions of worlds like uncountable spy drones. Almost too many to choose from, that was the only problem. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sought one out and not found one. He kept trying to push his mind further, to try and push through the darkness, but it seemed like it went on forever. He thought he was gasping for breath from the effort, he must have been, but he couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t feel himself breathing. He tried calling out. He couldn’t hear his own voice.

The panic overflowed. What was happening to him? What was this place? How did he even get here?! He tried to wrangle his unraveling mind enough to mentally retrace his steps. The last thing he remembered, he’d been in the Fearamid. He’d been celebrating. All his millenia of work had finally begun to pay off, countless eons spent watching and waiting and carefully prodding at history were about to come to fruition. Weirdmaggedon was finally here. At long last he was about to complete his life’s work, to complete the universe, to finally have everything he’d always deserved. He just needed one equation to collapse the barrier between him and reality. Ford was just about to hand it over when–

Ford.

It all came flooding back. It was Ford. Or, no, it wasn’t Ford, it was a trick . He and his brother had tricked him, trapped him in the wrong mind, and he’d been too caught up in the fervor of victory to realize it until it was too late. Until the jaws of the trap had slammed shut behind him, cutting off his exit, no escape, no way to backtrack, nowhere to run from the flames closing in, from Stanley towering over him, and then…

And then.

His mind scattered as horror tore through it. Was this death? Was this his afterlife? Was this how he’d spend the rest of eternity, an orphaned mind cut off from all senses, floating in the void? Trapped alone with his thoughts forever? He tried to call out again, to scream for help. There had to be somebody somewhere who could hear him. Somebody who could end this. He couldn’t stay like this. Torture would be better than this. If this universe really wanted to punish him so badly, it could set him on fire, or tear him apart into atoms, or pluck all his organs out one by one every day for eternity. Anything. Anything but this. Anything but nothing, forever.

Eventually, Bill accepted that trying to scream wasn’t working. He couldn’t even feel his own throat to know if the sound was escaping. And even if he was really screaming, who would answer? Who would listen? The Henchmaniacs had probably all split as soon as they saw the party was over. None of them were exactly “ride or die” types. They stuck around while the music was playing, but he knew they’d never stay late to pick up the solo cups all over the house. It had never been a problem before. He’d always been able to keep the music playing, keep stringing them along with promised glory and well-placed threats. But now? Forget it. They were all long gone by now.

And who else was there? Was there any other living creature left out there in the multiverse who knew who he was and didn’t have it out for him? His one last hail mary seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. There was no sign of anybody. No sign that anyone cared at all.

He was glad, for just a moment, that he couldn’t feel his face. He didn’t want to know if he was crying. He never gave himself time for self-pity if he had any choice. But now the only thing he had left was time. All the time he could ever need to torture himself with.

All he’d wanted to do was fix things. To make everything better. To make everyone see that without all their stupid rules, everything could be better than they’d ever let themselves imagine. He could have shown them. He’d tried to show them. That was all he’d wanted to do. And this was the thanks he got for it?!

It could have been any amount of time that he spent in that place, stewing in rage and despair. It could have been days or weeks or maybe years, it really didn’t matter. All that mattered was that eventually, he ran out of energy. He gave up trying to scream loud enough to reach his own ears. He just focused on slowing his mind to a crawl. Stopping his thoughts. Trying to just fade away into the darkness, waiting to see if maybe someday something would happen.

Nothing happened for a very long time.

But eventually something did.

The first thing he noticed was a sound. Soft and gentle, reverberating through the void. Bill snapped to awareness, his mind spinning wildly as he tried to remember how to think. He’d heard something. He’d heard something. Someone else was here.

“WHO’S THERE?!” He winced at the sound of his own voice. He almost didn’t even recognize it; it was strained and ragged, on the verge of giving out completely. He didn’t care. He could hear it. That was what mattered right now.

The sound returned, and this time he caught what it said. A voice, speaking a single word. “Bill.”

“WHO IS THAT?! WHERE ARE YOU?!?” he roared, desperately scanning the void in front of him.

“Bill! Stop screaming. I’m right next to you.”

With a start, Bill realized the voice was directly behind him. He found that he could move again, turned around, and was instantly flashbanged by a searing ray of pink light. Floating before him was a massive pale creature, all soft rounded angles, with a long finned tail and a remarkably stupid-looking face.

Bill would recognize them anywhere. He let out a hoarse laugh. “DECIDED TO SHOW UP AFTER ALL, HUH? YOU SURE TOOK YOUR SWEET TIME! WHAT, YOU GET HELD UP IN TRAFFIC WHILE I WAS STUCK ROTTING IN HERE?!”

“I was waiting for you to calm down,” the Axolotl said.

Bill’s eye bulged. “YOU WERE– YOU COULD HEAR ME?!? YOU MEAN THIS WHOLE TIME YOU WERE– YOU COULD’VE– AND YOU JUST–?!?” His dumbfounded stuttering slowly turned to broiling rage. “YOU– DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I JUST WENT THROUGH?! YOU WERE JUST FLOATING THERE WATCHING ME WHILE I WENT THROUGH THE TENTH CIRCLE OF HELL RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU?! IS THAT HOW YOU GET YOUR SICK KICKS?!? BECAUSE I CAN DO YOU ONE BETTER IF YOU WANNA SWITCH THE ROLES AROUND, YOU MISERABLE PINK–” his voice cut out halfway through the insult. He grabbed at his face and found it was numb.

“I can come back later if you’re not ready yet.” The Axolotl’s voice was completely flat.

“WHAT–? NO!!! NO NO NO WAIT!!!!!” Bill threw his arms out desperately, trying to grab for them. He didn’t get anywhere close, but they stopped in their tracks anyway, looking back at him.

“I– I’M FINE. I’M CALM. SEE?” He kept his arms raised in surrender to demonstrate. “I’M CALM, I SWEAR. JUST… DON’T LEAVE ME IN HERE AGAIN.”

The Axolotl stared at him with their blank, dopey expression. He kept as still and quiet as he possibly could.

“Alright,” they finally said. “If you’re ready, we can discuss the terms of our contract.”

“YES. TERMS. CONTRACT. I’M READY.” Bill forced himself to sound calm and collected and not at all like he wanted to crush his conversation partner’s big stupid pink head in his clawed hand. The instant their deal was made and he was alive again, this damn amphibian was getting an all-expenses-paid one-way trip to a snow globe full of acid.

“I've had time to think things over," they said. "There is a certain protocol I usually follow here, but these past few months watching you in here have made me think it might not work well for you. So here's how we'll do this. I will grant you a return to life…”

“YES! FANTASTIC. LET’S GET GOING ON THAT, HUH?”

“...but I have some terms that you’ll need to agree to first.”

Bill sighed. He suspected this was coming. No such thing as a free lunch. “LAY ‘EM ON ME.”

“I will return you to life. I will return your body to its original state, exactly as it was when you last had it; no more, no less. All I ask is the promise of one favor in return.”

It wasn’t like he had a choice, but he didn’t risk complaining. “WHICH IS?”

The Axolotl stared placidly. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Bill stared back. “SO… WHAT. IT COULD BE ANYTHING? JUST WHATEVER YOU FEEL LIKE?”

“It won’t endanger your life,” the Axolotl said. “And you will be capable of doing it. But beyond that… yes.”

Bill laughed humorlessly. “THIS IS A BIT, RIGHT? THIS IS A JOKE?”

“No, Bill.”

“SO YOU’RE ACTUALLY MAKING ME SIGN A BLANK CHECK HERE. UNDER THREAT OF DEATH.”

“I’m not threatening death.” A hint of annoyance breached the Axolotl’s calm demeanor. “I’m offering you life. A way out of this mess you’ve made. And those are my terms.”

“THE MESS I’VE… ?! YOU’RE PINNING ALL THIS ON ME?!?” Bill exploded. “THIS HAPPENED TO ME! I GOT STABBED IN THE BACK AND MURDERED!! AND I’M STILL WAITING TO HEAR THESE ‘TERMS’, BUD! YOU DON’T GET TO JUST HAND ME A BLANK CONTRACT AND FILL IT OUT LATER, THAT’S NOT FAIR !!”

The Axolotl’s dot eyes narrowed to thin slits. “Of course. ‘Fair’. Just like all the famously clear, mutually beneficial, deeply ‘fair’ deals you’ve made.”

Bill clammed up. He couldn’t go off like this. If the Axolotl decided they were fed up, he knew they wouldn’t stick around. And they might not come back. He had no other choice but to listen to their brain-dead, moralistic lectures and nod his head like he agreed. So, reluctantly, he did.

“I’m offering you one last chance,” the Axolotl continued. “A return to your original, physical body. A chance to start over and make things right. All I ask is one small favor in the future, when I return. If that’s not fair enough for you, I’m happy to leave.”

Bill dragged his hands down his face. If he said what he was really thinking, there was no way he’d ever get out of here. There was no sense dragging this out any longer. He didn’t want to listen to this smug bastard prattle on for one more second. There would be time for revenge later; right now he just wanted out of this place.

He extended a hand. “FINE. DEAL.”

The Axolotl grasped Bill’s hand in a massive pink paw. As the void around them began to fade from black to gray, a thought that had been gnawing at the back of his mind suddenly surfaced. When they’d laid out their deal, the Axolotl had been worryingly specific on one particular detail. “Your original, physical body… no more, no less…”

“HOLD ON,” he said. “WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY–”

“Time to wake up, Bill.”

His vision turned white.

[barnesafterglow]

first burn

summary: your crush on peter may burn you alive

pairing: mcu!peter parker x avenger!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: not canon compliant (no snap, everyone is happy and healthy and no one did anything stupid), peter is of age and well within his rights to fuck!!, a little tropey for a second (brief "fake dating" and "only one bed" to move the story along), smut [unprotected sex, pull out method oral (f receiving), just some sweet love making dude], listen i'm here for a good time not a long time

a/n: two fics in a year?? who is she

main masterlist - i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary for updates!

Peter Parker was going to be the death of you.

With each grunt that echoed through the gym in Avengers Tower, your eyes flicked to his sweaty form. The goddamned death of you.

You tried to backtrack, to see when these feelings first started as a small burning in the back of your mind that had turned into a raging wildfire every time you were in his presence. It had to have been the mission in London.

It was normal - or as normal as any Avengers mission could be. 

You had just stumbled through the throes of midtown London, hand in hand with your boyfriend, looking with every bit of wonder like neither of you had ever seen the delights it had to offer.

Then, as soon as you stepped through the hotel door, Peter dropped your hand as if it had burned him the whole time. 

Maybe it started then, with that glimmer of disappointment. Peter wasn’t your boyfriend and he would never take the time to take you around tourist London like he had just done. 

And then that pit in your stomach grew as the door to your room opened: only one bed. Jesus Christ, Tony. 

“I know,” came the response from beside you; you must have spoken out loud. “It’ll be fine.”

Those were the last words he spoke for a long while, as you both got ready for bed, then slid in beside each other. The tension was palpable, and you didn’t know if it was your slowly mounting feelings or the clench of his discomfort, but regardless you slept fitfully for hours until you finally stumbled into a deep sleep.

You woke up to a strong pair of arms wrapped around your middle - somehow pressed there in the dark of the night - and the world spun around you as you shot up.

Peter was alert in seconds, standing by the bed assessing for a threat, when his eyes met yours - utterly confused and you had no real answer for him.

“Bad dream,” you mumbled as you headed to the bathroom, the door clicking with a sort of finality behind you.

And it was fine, really it was. You definitely didn’t think about the way press of his body against yours and how sexy his bed head had looked. Nope. Not at all. 

And you definitely didn’t imagine what he would have looked like if you were the one who made him sweaty and flushed like he was right now.

Snapping out of your borderline impure thoughts, you stood from your spot on the ground where you had been warming up and - before your mouth said something you could regret - you walked out of the gym.

With your back turned, you missed the way Peter’s eyes followed you the whole way.

-

Saturday nights were girl’s nights, as Wanda so boldly claimed. And girl’s night came with a lot of complaining.

Throwing the shot back, you groaned, not even wanting to voice your thoughts aloud.

“I shouldn’t even think about it,” you said. “He’s practically a kid.”

“Not to impede on your self-loathing, but he’s not a kid anymore babe,” was Natasha’s response. She nodded across the bar where Peter was sipping his beer, laughing at something Sam had said. Right, he was 22 and totally within your age range, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still see him as the 16 year old kid who had fought by Tony’s side. “Plus you’re not that much older than him. We used to call you a kid too, you know.”

Dragging your hand down your face, you stood from the table to order another drink, ignoring Nat and Wanda’s laughter at your misery.

As you leaned against the bar waiting, Peter dropped down into the stool beside you.

“Alright, what did I do to you?” His words were casual, joking, but you could hear the hurt laced within. That was never your intention, and your heart sank.

You and Peter had been friends for a long time, since Tony had first brought him in after the air had cleared with him and Cap. You bonded over being the youngest Avengers and what that meant for your lives. The two of you understood each other on another level that no one else truly did. And here you were, ruining everything over a little crush.

“Nothing, Pete.” You ruffled your hand through his hair and his face lit up in a blush that he tried to hide behind his beer bottle. “How have you been?”

“Not too bad, I guess,” he replied, then looked down at you - when had he gotten so tall - with an unreadable emotion on his face. “I miss you.”

Right. And you were back where you started. Admittedly, you had avoided him for the most part since that London mission, only saying hi in passing and at the occasional movie night or debrief. You weren’t exactly proud of it, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“I miss you too,” you whispered, shame coating your words. You never meant to hurt him - honestly, you didn’t. “Listen, kid, I just-“

“Don’t call me kid.” And the anger in his words surprised you. “I’m not that kid you met six years ago - when you were barely any older, might I remind you - and you know that. I know you know that. So don’t use that as an excuse to stop whatever is going on here.” His hands gestured between the two of you. 

Strong, capable hands that you had seen hurt and save, had seen run through his hair, had seen play video games. Hands that you had imagined for weeks now. Hands that you couldn’t help but grab out of mid air, clasping one in your own. 

“And what’s going on here, Peter?”

He leaned in close, breath hot on your ear. 

“I see the way you look at me.” Your breath hitched, then stopped altogether. “But I don’t think you see me looking right back.”

Body all of a sudden hot and raging with emotion, you squeezed his hand and took a deep breath. 

“Take me home.”

-

Your apartment was closer, so you walked the handful of blocks from the bar in tangible silence. Every brush of fingers was an electric jolt through your body and every bump of shoulders sent heat through your core. By the time you reached your front door, the tension was pulled so tight it was bound to snap at any moment.

And snap it did.

As soon as you had the apartment door closed behind you, Peter was on you, his hands everywhere all at once. He crowded you, pulling you close to him when you winced at the door knob digging into your side. One hand came to rest on your hip, rubbing soothing circles there, while the other cradled your face, eyes searching for permission.

You didn’t know what you were giving him permission for, but you nodded anyway.

The world around you stopped as Peter placed a searing kiss to your lips, stealing the breath from your lungs. The hand on your face moved to gently tug your hair and he took your gasp as an invitation to explore your mouth. God the boy knew how to kiss.

His tongue pressed into you, tasting every inch while your hands roamed his body. When he pulled away - not for air, not to leave you, but to place hot kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of burning fire in their wake - you tugged on his t-shirt in a silent plea for him to take it off.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen him without a shirt before. Between missions and training and plain old gym sessions, you were thankfully no stranger to a shirtless Peter Parker. But in the dim light of your living room, with those brown eyes boring into your own, everything was suddenly different.

You just stared - for far longer than necessary, you were sure - until he took a step back towards you, his fingers intertwining with your own. Nodding at him, you started to lead him towards your bedroom, not making it more than two steps until his hands were once again exploring your body.

When you finally made it - a trail of both of your clothes left in your wake - your breaths were heavy and panting, aching for more of him.

He stood there for a moment just looking at you, taking in the red lace of your bra and underwear. Unable to contain himself, he ripped it off of you in two quick pulls, leaving you bare before him.

You expected him to jump on you the second you were naked. Instead he pressed his front against your own - you gasped at the contact of your nipples against his bare chest - and lightly traced shapes over your exposed back, moving down to trail along your legs, then back up your arms. Everywhere he touched burned the memory into your skin.

Finally, finally, he gently pushed you against your bed, your back hitting the mattress with a soft bounce, and he peeled off his jeans and underwear before manhandling you towards the center, moving your body as if you weighed nothing.

You truly didn’t need any foreplay, the tension on your own end built up these last few weeks on top of Peter’s heated discovery of your body made for an easy transition, but he wasn’t about to let that happen.

No, Peter Parker was a fucking tease.

He started by kneading the soft skin of your breasts, touch light and gentle as if you were something precious. Even when he leaned down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, he still only gave you quick nips, nothing as satisfying as you needed. He made his way down your body, placing lover’s kisses everywhere he could reach, before finally settling down on his stomach between your legs.

You thought that this was surely the moment you would get some reprieve, some kind of real touch that may or may not send you over the edge, but no. He wasn’t done with you yet.

He kissed the inside of each thigh, alternating until he was breathing right where you needed him most. When you thought you were about to explode, he finally lowered his mouth to your core.

The feeling after so long of teasing was euphoric, and you swear if you were a weaker woman you could have come from the first swipe of his tongue against your clit. You held out as his tongue made its way in circles and figure eights, then he pressed a finger against your entrance, eyes looking up through dark lashes to silently ask permission.

Once you had given it, he sank a finger into you, pumping it a few times before adding another. With that, both his hand and mouth picked up speed until you were grinding on his face, chasing your orgasm.

You were on the edge, ready to jump off, when he pulled back. You whined at the loss of contact and tried to sit up, but one large hand pushed you back against the bed, the other starting its assault all over again.

This time, he didn’t stop until you were coming all over his face, and you think you blacked out for a second because the next thing you knew he was over top of you, not even bothering to wipe his mouth before kissing you, driving his tongue in and swallowing down your moans.

He ground his hips against you, his cock sliding easily through your folds, and you both whined as his tip caught at your entrance. He continued his movements, getting closer and closer to fucking you with every pass, but never quite committing.

Sick of his teasing, you pushed hard on his shoulders and, in his surprise, were able to flip him so he was on his back.

“Stop teasing, Peter,” you whispered in his ear as you straddled his waist. “I need you.”

You pulled back, eyes searching his, before he nodded and wrapped his hands around your hips. Taking that as permission, you grabbed his cock, lining it up and slowly sliding down.

He was big, much bigger than you had anticipated, and you had to take your time before he was fully seated inside you. Once your hips were flush together, you took a breath, practically feeling him in your throat. 

He looked up at you - almost adoringly - as you adjusted to him. You leaned down, pressing your chest against his, and kissed him gently, pouring every ounce of emotion you possibly could into it before starting to move your hips. Now more adjusted, the burn of the stretch turned into a pleasure that had you melting against him and hands guided your hips to move you along his length.

For long minutes you let him move you as he wanted, content to hang on for the ride. You didn’t expect for Peter to flip you over and start pounding into you.

“Fuck,” you gasped out as he settled your legs over your shoulders. “So fucking deep.”

All you could do is hold onto him as he fucked you, alternating between hard thrusts and slow grinds until you were dizzy with pleasure, chasing an orgasm that wasn’t going to come unless Peter damn well wanted it to.

And when he did, when he reached down and rubbed harsh circles into your clit, you exploded around him. The clench of your heat around his cock spurred his own orgasm, and he pulled out at the last second, his come coating your stomach and tits.

That on is own was hot enough, but Peter fucking Parker did not come to play. He swiped two fingers through his own release before pressing them to your mouth. You opened up for him, cleaning off his fingers as he groaned, and you could see his cock give an interested twitch, like it was already trying to go for round two.

The weight of his body disappeared from yours and you whined, reaching out for him even with your eyes closed. He quickly returned with a warm rag and cleaned you up before maneuvering you both under the covers. 

Regaining a semblance of strength, you turned so that you were facing him, suddenly very aware of each of your nakedness.

“What now?” Your voice was hoarse-sounding, it’s only use in the last bit from moans and gasps.

“Well,” he started, once again tracing shapes along your bare skin, “I think we maybe skipped a step in the middle of all this.”

“What do you mean?” If he was going to say what you thought he might, your heart would implode.

“I mean, I’ve liked you for a really long time, longer than I’m going to admit, and I took this chance because I didn’t know if I would ever get it again. But if I’m right - and I think I am - then you feel the same way I do. So, I want to take you on a proper date. I want to make this work.”

His confession made your heart stutter-step and you couldn’t even find the words to tell him yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Instead, you pulled him in for a soft kiss, hoping every emotion he had just poured out to you was matched in the press of your lips against his.

“I’m taking that as a yes, then.”

“Yeah, Pete, it is.”

[pin-k-ink]

freudian slip // kageyama tobio

tw ⇢ teeny weeny age gap, mention of face-sitting (this is basically the whole plot), horny kags, highly suggestive themes

wc ⇢ 1.3k

There were only a couple of things that could faze Kageyama Tobio, and he took great pride in that fact. With his blunt demeanor, lack of social graces, and complete disinterest in the opposite sex, he was far from your typical hormonal teenager.

But if anything could get under his skin and set his heart racing - aside from volleyball - it was you. His stoic upperclassman who had somehow gotten roped into being his tutor, much to your initial chagrin. Teaching Kageyama was an uphill battle, as it seemed almost impossible to get anything through his thick skull that wasn't related to his beloved sport.

And yet, as much as you may have resisted at first, you found yourself not minding the arrangement so much anymore. There was something undeniably cute about Kageyama's single-minded intensity. For you, the tutoring sessions had become routine, even a bit boring - but for him, they were anything but.

Unbeknownst to you, Kageyama's mind was in a constant state of chaos in your presence. He was hyper-aware of everything about you - the subtle scent of your perfume, the silky sheen of your hair, the creamy porcelain of your skin. And much as he tried to focus on derivatives and English verb tenses, he couldn't stop his imagination from wandering to the tantalizing way your uniform skirt swayed with your every movement...

"Kageyama? Are you listening to me?" Your voice cut through the haze of his thoughts. He blinked and shook his head, realizing he'd been staring blankly at the same page for the past five minutes.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his face heat up.

You sighed, tapping your pencil against the textbook. "I was explaining the quadratic formula. Again. Honestly, where is your head today?"

"Nowhere! I mean, uh, I'm paying attention. Promise." He ducked his head, hoping you couldn't see how flustered he was. This was getting ridiculous. He had to get a grip on himself before he did something monumentally stupid.

"Alright, if you say so..." You still looked skeptical, but thankfully let the matter drop. "Let's try a few practice problems then. I'll walk you through the first one."

Kageyama did his best to follow along, keeping his eyes firmly on the page and not on the alluring curve of your neck as you leaned over to point out the key steps. But each brush of your arm against his threatened to short-circuit his brain. It took every ounce of restraint not to inhale the sweet scent of your hair...

An hour later, you closed the textbook with a thud and started gathering up your things. "I think that's enough for today. You're actually making pretty good progress!"

"Huh? Oh, uh, thanks." He blinked, trying to reorient himself. "Will you sit on my face?"

"Yep, sounds good." You stood and stretched, your skirt riding up dangerously high on your thighs. You had taken exactly two steps before you finally realized what he’d just said.

"Wait, what?"

Kageyama felt his heart stop as your eyes met his, wide with shock. The words he'd been holding back for so long had finally slipped out, and now he was left to face the consequences. "Um, nothing! I mean, uh, you didn't hear anything, senpai," he stammered, his palms growing sweaty as he tried to backtrack.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a teasing smile that made his knees weak. "No, I'm pretty sure I heard you ask me to sit on your face," you replied, your voice laced with amusement.

"No, you definitely heard wrong." Kageyama gulped, feeling like his face was on fire. The heat crept up his neck and spread to the tips of his ears, making him wish he could disappear into the ground. "You must be losing your hearing in your old age," he added, trying to deflect with humor.

"Ha, ha. Very funny." You sat back down next to him, crossing your legs and leaning in closer. The scent of your perfume filled his nostrils, a tantalizing mix of vanilla and something uniquely you. "So why did you say that, Kageyama?"

He squirmed under your gaze, unsure what to say. His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it, and his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. "Because I, um..." he trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes?" you prompted, your eyes boring into his.

"I really like the way you look, senpai." Kageyama hung his head, cheeks burning with embarrassment. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, a confession he'd been holding back for months. "You're really pretty, and you smell nice, and you have a really cute ass-"

He clapped a hand over his mouth, mortified by what had just come out of it. What was he doing? You were going to think he was a complete creep now, a perverted underclassman who couldn't keep his thoughts to himself.

"Well, thank you, Kageyama. That's very flattering." To his surprise, you didn't sound angry or disgusted, merely amused. Your voice was warm and inviting, with a hint of something else he couldn't quite place.

"I didn't mean to be creepy!" he blurted out, desperate to explain himself. "It's just, um, you know, when I'm around you, I can't help but, uh, think about, um..."

"About?" you coaxed, your fingers brushing against his knee.

Kageyama took a deep breath, bracing himself for rejection. "I really want you to sit on my face, senpai," he confessed, his voice trembling slightly. "I want to taste you and make you feel good. I've liked you for so long, and I can't keep pretending that I don't have feelings for you."

The silence that followed his confession was deafening. Kageyama felt his stomach drop, sure he'd ruined everything. But then, you surprised him yet again by chuckling softly.

"Kageyama, look at me," you commanded, your voice gentle but firm.

Slowly, he raised his head, not daring to hope. His eyes met yours, and he was stunned to see the warmth and affection reflected in them.

You were smiling, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm not mad," you assured him, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. Your touch sent shivers down his spine, and he leaned into it instinctively. "In fact, I'm flattered that you think so highly of me."

"You..you are?" Kageyama asked, his voice filled with wonder.

You nodded, biting your lip in a way that made his heart race. "So, do you really want me to sit on your face?"

"Yes!" He cringed at his own eagerness, worried that he was coming on too strong. "I mean, yes, please," he amended, trying to sound more casual.

"Good boy." You leaned in, your lips mere centimeters from his ear. Your breath was hot against his skin, and he suppressed a shiver of pleasure. "And maybe if you're really good, I’ll even return the favor."

Kageyama felt his mind short-circuit at the thought. Images of you on your knees, between his legs with your mouth stuffed-, filled his head, and he had to bite back a groan. "Oh god, please," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

"That's what I like to hear." You smirked, standing up and tugging on his tie. The silk slid between your fingers, and Kageyama swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "Now, come here and show me what else that tongue can do."

Kageyama followed after you, his pulse racing as he eagerly obeyed your command. He'd always known you were going to be the death of him, and now it seemed he was about to find out just how literal that statement was. As you led him out of the room, your hand firmly grasping his, he couldn't help but marvel at his luck.

He couldn't wait.

[novamariestark]

back again with another hank request 😅

the reader gets into a bar fight with some random girl that’s talking shit about hank and their relationship, so the reader feels like she needs to defend him. the bartender instead of calling the cops, just calls hank. hank comes in and is kind of laughing to himself a little bit as he just effortlessly throws the reader over his shoulder and is like “alright slugger time to go home” or something like that.

Army - Hank Voight

Summary: No one talks shit about your man. Simple.

Warnings: None?? Except bad writing? 🤣

Word count: 1109

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x Reader

Molly’s was buzzing with energy, as it usually was at this time. People like you, who had either a successful day at work and wanted to celebrate, or a stressful day and wanted to drink it away, filled the bar. This, however, was your usual habitat at this time—not because you were stressed or celebrating, but because it gave you something to do while waiting for your boyfriend, Hank Voight. He usually worked late, and you’d come here to kill time until he could swing by and pick you up.

You were nursing your drink at the bar, half-listening to the background noise when you overheard a voice mention your boyfriend’s name, followed by a sentence that made your blood boil.

"Must be nice dating a guy who can make all your problems disappear…"

You froze, the words echoing in your ears as the rest of the noise in the bar became nothing but a backtrack. The woman sitting a few seats down didn’t even bother to keep her voice low, her friends laughed along with her. Your eyes narrowed in her direction, glaring daggers into the back of her head which was covered in fake blonde hair and cheap extensions. Your hands clenched tighter around your drink as you thought about ripping them out her head.

Behind the bar, Gabby, who had been putting freshly cleaned glasses away, caught the conversation and saw the storm brewing in your eyes. She sighed, already knowing where this was headed. She placed the last glass on the shelf before stepping away from the bar. Gabby slipped her phone out of her pocket and quickly dialled her brother.

"Oh yeah," another one chimed in, laughing quietly, "I bet she pays him back for those favors. You know, in her own whore way. I mean that’s the only reason he’s with her."

They both giggled, sending a smug glance your way. And that was it. They had just dropped a match over a pool of gasoline. Your grip on your glass tightened as you slowly turned in your seat.

You tilted your head, giving her a slow, dangerous smile. "I’m sorry, I was too busy daydreaming about ripping out your crappy extensions. What did you just say?"

The first woman leaned back, tossing her hair over her shoulder with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "You heard me. Come on, it’s Voight. Everyone knows the guy bends the rules. I’m just saying, must be nice to have all your messes cleaned up for you. I’m sure you find ways to thank him for that."

Your vision blurred red. "You don’t know a damn thing about him or me."

"Oh please," she scoffed, "Everyone knows he gets his hands dirty, and you just smile and reap the benefits. Well… we also know you do a little more than just smile."

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you slammed your drink down and stood up.

"Say that again. I dare you."

The woman blinked at your challenge, clearly not expecting you to bite back so directly. Her lips curled into a smug grin as she leaned forward, her eyes locked on yours.

"I said," she began slowly, "everyone knows you’re just Voight’s little sidepiece, riding his coattails. And when things get messy—" she paused, glancing at her friends, who were snickering like schoolgirls, before her eyes found yours again, "—he cleans it all up. But we all know you do more than just sit pretty. Bet he’s got you on your knees thanking him every time."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the blood rushing to your ears as the last bit of your restraint snapped. You could practically see yourself launching at her, your hands in her fake blonde hair, dragging her off her stool.

Behind the bar, Gabby had moved out of sight, her phone pressed to her ear as she muttered something, "Hey, it’s me," Gabby said quietly. "Let Voight know his girl’s about to take someone’s head off."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Your fists clenched so hard your knuckles turned white. The woman raised an eyebrow, as if daring you to do something. "Oh, what? You gonna hit me?" she mocked, getting more giggles from her friends who maybe had one braincell between them.

You didn’t even think twice as your fist flew forward, landing squarely on her jaw. The shock in her eyes was priceless, but it was quickly replaced by a furious scowl as she stumbled back into her seat.

"Whoa, Y/N!" Gabby shouted, starting to rush around the bar, but you were already past the point of no return.

The woman recovered quickly, lunging at you with a wild swing. You ducked, avoiding the slap by inches, and shoved her back, sending her crashing into the table behind her. Her friends were still laughing, egging her on, which only fueled your anger more. You were ready to go at it again, fists clenched and teeth gritted.

And then you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, lifting you effortlessly off your feet. Before you could even register what was happening, you were hoisted up and over someone's shoulder effortlessly.

"Alright, slugger, that’s enough for tonight." A deep, familiar voice told you.

You blinked down and found yourself looking at the back of Hank Voight’s leather jacket as he carried you toward the door, his grip firm but gentle.

"Put me down, Hank!" you growled. He just chuckled as you squirmed slightly in his grip, "Hank, come on, let me at her just for a second," you pleaded, your eyes narrowing back toward the bar.

Once you were outside, he put you down on your feet. Hank shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You already gave her a taste,"

“But,” you said, gesturing back to the bar, intending to plead your case as to why he should let you back in there to smack the taste out that bitch’s mouth.

Hank grabbed your hand, placing a soft kiss to the back of it before leading you towards his car, “No buts,”

You sighed, knowing full well he wasn’t going to let you go back, so you just snuggled into him as you walked. Your right arm moving to hug his, your chin resting on his smooth leather covered shoulder.

“I’ve still got some paperwork to do, can I trust you not to start a fight with Rusek?”

You smirked, leaning in closer to kiss the skin just below his ear, “I don’t know, maybe you’ll have to handcuff me,”

“Don’t tempt me, beautiful,”

[cobaltperun]

i have a request if possible ? for a tara carpenter x reader , or any jo character as you see fit , but in my head , it’s always been tara and no gf au-

so basically , if you’re familiar with 5 seconds of summer , every time i listen to them (their self titled album, specifically heartbreak girl) i always come up with like scenarios of r, mindy, amber and wes being 5sos basically and having r write that song about tara and how she’s always calling/texting r about the problems she’s having with chad without realizing that r is in love with her

which ofc leads r to go to amber, mindy and wes to write that song together and having them preform at a local bar/club or something because they’re locally known and tara, sam, chad and the rest of the friend group is in the crowd, being supportive- but once they hear the song , they immediately know who it’s about and just look at tara awkwardly , and- that’s as far as i’ve gotten

Heartbreak Girl

Tara Carpenter x gn!Reader (Request)

First of all, thank you for the request, it kind of just flowed out and here it is. I went with gender-neutral Reader since you didn't specify the gender. I hope you'll enjoy reading this.

Masterlist

Word count: 2.7k

"I know I should have seen it coming, but it still hurts, you know? I still love Chad, I just can't get over him," she sobbed, and you stopped pacing around your room to lean back and rest your head against the wall. You knew the story, you heard it from Tara countless times, and you may have heard it from Mindy even before Tara told you, mostly because Mindy got a bit pissed that Chad would end his relationship with Tara like that. Tara and Chad were in a relationship, they worked the summer job together and met Liv. Chad fell in love and broke up with Tara. The rest was history, and Tara, sharing Chad's circle of friends, and still being in love with him, couldn't move on.

One time Tara told you she figured it would be easier if he cheated on her. He didn't. He just sat down with her one day and said how he felt. Two weeks later Chad and Liv went on their first date and the circumstances kept Tara and Chad as somewhat friends.

"I'm sorry for being a bother, Y/N," she must have noticed your silence.

"You're not being a bother, Tara, I just don't know what to say that I already didn't tell you before," you bit your bottom lip, knowing full well you were lying. You knew what you wanted to say. You wanted to tell her you loved her, that in her heartbreak she kept breaking your heart too. Another sob made you speak before you could think things through. "Let's go out, just the two of us," you suggest, realizing too late what you were saying. "As friends, of course, just to get your mind off of everything," you quickly backtracked, hoping the explanation was sufficient enough, hoping she couldn't hear the nervous tapping of your foot against the floor, or the crack in your voice when you said 'friends' or anything else that could give you away.

Because, as much as you loved her, as much as you wanted to be with her, you didn't want to push her into another relationship when she was vulnerable and still heartbroken. You also didn't want to be her way of getting over Chad and nothing more. And you absolutely didn’t want to take advantage of her emotional turmoil.

"I'd love to, Y/N," it sounded like she stopped crying, thought she still sniffled a bit. "Thanks for being my friend and always being there to cheer me up," her words, even if you just encouraged them yourself, still hurt you.

"Don't mention it, I'm here for you," you brushed it off, subconsciously hoping maybe, just maybe, she'd realize how you feel on her own. You had no idea how mixed the signals you were sending her looked every now and then. In less than a minute you went from proclaiming friendly hanging out to promising to be there for her. "When do you want to meet up?"

Tara paused for a moment. "I'll call you tomorrow at ten to figure that out. Is that okay?"

You nodded and then frowned when you realized a moment later you were on the phone with her. "Of course."

And so you said your goodbyes, and you just slumped into the chair and dropped your head down to the table. A bit recklessly you tossed the phone to the bed on your side and silently expressed gratitude that it didn't hit the wall or drop to the floor. You sighed and placed your hands over your head, feeling like you were stuck in a never-ending cycle with Tara Carpenter.

Against your better judgment, you grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and began writing.

~X~

The friend date went well, better than you imagined it would and you and Tara hung out an hour longer than either of you anticipated. It was a nice change of pace and for a moment you actually convinced yourself you didn't feel anything romantic for her. For a moment, you were reminded of simpler times, when Tara really was just a friend in your eyes. That time was a long time ago, but sometimes you wished you could go back to that, at the very least everything was much simpler back then.

The paper waiting for you at your table broke that illusion and you grabbed your guitar, maybe you had something here after all. As you sat down to try different tunes you sent a message to the band, Mindy, Wes, and Amber, asking to meet up tomorrow for an additional practice.

~X~

The four of you met up in your garage where you kept your instruments, the guitars, and drums, anything else you needed you would just rent out for a couple of days. You were still a local band, so renting still saved you money.

"Let me see if I got everything right. You," Amber pointed at you, almost accusingly. "wrote this song about Tara and you don't want to confess how you feel?" she asked incredulously.

"Come on, it's not that obvious," you defended yourself and pointed at a line in the song. "See? Chad didn't exactly treat her bad, he just broke up with her."

"Yeah, sure, one line is going to convince everyone it isn't about Tara," Mindy added sarcastically and threw her arms up. "It's there for the dramatic effect, Y/N! Remember?" well, yeah, but still, were you really that obvious?

"She got you there," Wes wasn't helping.

You picked up your guitar and began playing the tune you thought would work well with the song. "Listen, I think we got something good here," you tried to focus on the song itself. "Regardless of who it was written for," you muttered.

"You're kidding, right? A sad tune? You're making this a ballad? No way," Mindy went to her drums. "This needs more energy," judging by the tone of her voice she wasn't budging on this. Well, at least she was on board.

"We are totally adding 'Thanks for being a friend' to the lyrics," Amber teased and you just groaned and buried your face in your hands.

"Don't forget being a sucker for anything Tara does," Wes joined in, causing all three of them to laugh at you.

"You're the worst," you muttered, too embarrassed to look at them. As it was the song that maybe could have passed as, you know, not absolutely obvious, might as well be named ‘Tara’ with how specific it was turning out to be.

~X~

Over the next month and a half, you and Tara fell into a bit of a habit. The first two weeks she continued sobbing, and you'd ask her to hang out. The week after that she just complained and you still asked her to hang out. The past few weeks she rarely even mentioned Chad during your calls, but she still insisted you were friends.

Honestly, just the fact that she seemed to be moving on as weeks went by mended your own heart. Somewhere along the line, you found out you were fine with the way things were. In a relationship or as friends, you wanted Tara in your life.

You walked her to her house, the backs of your hands occasionally brushing as you walked. The accidental touches became something both of you were comfortable with, as neither of you moved away from each other.

"You'll be performing tomorrow night, right?" Tara asked out of the blue.

You glanced at her and your eyes met. "Yeah. Are you going to come?" it wouldn't be the first time Tara would be in the crowd. Tara, Sam, Chad, Danny, Anika, and Liv were all supportive of your band, so they regularly came to your performances.

"You're not really asking that, are you? Of course, I'm going to come," she lightly jabbed your arm. "Besides, Mindy might have told me you guys have a new song you'll be performing for the first time in front of a crowd."

That little traitor. You cleared your throat to buy yourself a few extra seconds to get it together.

With the way things were going between you and Tara, you were almost tempted to scrap the song, but the other three voted against it. "No pressure then, it's not like we haven't had a new song in almost four months now," what could you say, it was a bit of a drought period as far as creativity went.

Tara laughed and just for a moment you thought you saw something else in her eyes, something similar to the way you would so often look at her. "You'll do great," she offered a much-needed encouragement as the two of you stopped in front of her house.

"Guess this is it for tonight," you smiled at her.

"Mhm, I'm glad I was the one to ask you out tonight, as friends, of course," she took a step closer and tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. And then you froze when she got on her tiptoes and kissed your cheek. "Thank you, for always being there for me," somehow, this time she omitted the friend part.

"I," you cleared your throat once more. "did say I'd be here for you, didn't I?" you tried to brush it off as you usually did for months now.

The intensity of Tara's gaze captured all of your attention and for a moment you even considered leaning in. You didn't though, you weren't sure she felt the same, or that she actually moved on.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, then?" she asked, lowering her gaze to your lips before quickly looking away.

You noticed it, and you wondered if Tara could hear how loud your heart was drumming in your chest. "Y-yeah," you finally stepped back from her, and the tension you were trying so hard to ignore began fading.

~X~

Tara pretty much threw herself on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. What was wrong with her? Falling in love with you so quickly and almost out of nowhere. Especially when you so explicitly insisted on hanging out as friends. Perhaps you were insisting too hard to cover your own feelings? A girl could hope, right?

She turned her playlist on, hoping to find some peace in music. As if to spite her, the first song that played was Brian Fallon's You Have Stolen My Heart and she nearly chucked her phone into a wall. Groaning she turned around and tucked herself into a blanket. It was entirely your fault. With your charming smile and clumsy mixed signals, she could never get a good read on them.

~X~

You were amazing on that improvised stage, just mesmerizing to watch and listen to and Tara found herself falling even harder. She also found herself ignoring Sam's teasing smile.

"Thank you, thank you! You are too kind! We'll wrap up the night with a premiere of our new song!" Wes yelled, hyping up the crowd.

"Let's hear an applause for Heartbreak Girl!" Mindy demanded, encouraging the crowd to interact with the four of you.

Tara was pulled to her feet by Anika and they both cheered. The name of the song, however, made Tara's heart skip a beat. Or was it the way you looked at her from the stage?

"You call me up, it's like a broken record, saying that your heart hurts. That you'll never get over him getting over you, and you end up crying. And I end up lying, 'cause I'm just a sucker for anything that you do," you sang, your eyes never leaving Tara's. It felt like there was no one else in the club but the two of you. But you weren't alone, and Tara felt the awkward stares directed at the back of her head.

Did you actually write a song for her?

"And when the phone call finally ends, you say "Thanks for being a friend" and I'm going in circles again and again," now she had no doubt, that the song really was about her. She stopped cheering and just stood there, taking the lyrics in.

She saw you hesitating, probably since you noticed her reaction, and she just smiled. You smiled back and continued.

"I dedicate this song to you, the one who never sees the truth, that I can take away you hurt, Heartbreak girl. Hold you tight straight through the daylight, I'm right here, when you gonna realize that I'm your cure, Heartbreak girl?" did you...? Were you saying what she thought you were saying?

She wasn't reading this wrong, was she?

"I bite my tongue, but I wanna scream out, you could be with me now. But I end up telling you what you wanna hear, but you're not ready. And it's so frustrating, he treats you so bad and I'm so good to you, it's not fair," her heart skips a beat as you continue, quoting the promise to call you tomorrow at ten and once again singing the chorus.

"I know someday it's gonna happen, and you'll finally forget the day you met him. Sometimes I'm so close to confession, I gotta get it through your head, that you belong with me instead," the look in your eyes, the eyes that told her 'This is it, I can't take it back now' it vanquished any doubt she may have had about how you felt.

She just wondered how long you felt that way about her without saying anything? Definitely before you first asked her to hang out as friends, but how long before that? And she felt like apologizing, for not noticing how you felt, for leaning on you for support even if it hurt you as well. And at the same time she fell even harder, because you were there for her even with everything you were feeling you were giving her all the time she needed.

~X~

The moment you ended the song and without any idea where the sudden boldness was coming from you jumped down from the stage and went over to Tara. You took a few deep breaths as you closed the distance and offered her your hand, the guitar still in your other hand.

Yeah, you didn't quite think that through.

Tara raised an eyebrow, clearly looking at the guitar, but then shrugged and took your hand.

"Uh, what now?" you asked sheepishly.

"Isn't that something you were supposed to figure out? Before you jumped down and came over?" she gave you a cheeky, teasing smile.

"I didn't think I'd get this far," you admitted, causing Tara to laugh.

"Just go behind the stage dumbass!" Mindy yelled, with the microphone still on. "And leave the guitar there while you're at it!"

You lowered your head and winced, trying to hide the embarrassment clearly visible on your face. Tara wasn't doing much better as she quickly pulled you behind the stage to escape the teasing.

You packed the guitar as both of you took time to compose yourself and catch a breath. "I really didn't think this through, did I?" you asked.

"No," Tara sat down on the chair near you. "You really didn't," she was fiddling with the loose thread on her shirt.

"I meant it, the song. Well, at least when I wrote it a month and a half ago," you decided to just be honest with her.

Tara raised her head to look at you, you could see hopefulness and uncertainty in her gaze. "What changed?"

You approached and sat down next to her. "I don't think you are still heartbroken," you took her hand.

Tara smiled. "I'm not. I'm in love with a clumsy musician that sucks at flirting," she leaned closer to you.

"Hey, it worked," you closed the distance, capturing her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. "Mhm, how about we go on a proper date then?" she asked when the kiss ended and you couldn't think of any better idea.

[irisintheafterglow]

Timeless (pro!bakugo x you)

summary: in another life, he still would have turned your head.

word count: 0.7k

cw/tags: swearing, just straight fluff, gn reader

note: i think my favorite line of dialogue i've written so far is now "kicking ass, looking hot." hope you enjoy this lil drabble!

likes/reblogs/feedback is always appreciated <3

In your excitement, you pull out your phone and dial his number. He answers after two rings and you smile softly. You didn’t usually call him when he was on patrol unless you missed him, so hopefully he didn’t give you any shit about that. 

“Hi darling, whatcha doing?” You fiddle with the ring hanging around your neck, a habit you’d only picked up after you two started dating. 

“The usual– kicking ass, looking hot.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You’re the one who called me, babe, so you must be missing me. What’s up?” 

“Just wanted to tell you about these funny little photos I found in an antique shop by the deli. I snagged that good French bread you like, by the way.” Your fingers continue to card through the pictures in the cardboard box, one shoulder pressing the phone up to your ear. 

He hums contentedly on the other side of the phone, completely ignoring the first part of what you said. “You’re the greatest part of my life.” 

“I better be. But, anyway, these photos, Kats.” You could practically see him rolling his eyes in boredom, but continue trying to explain them anyways. “They’re cute; it’s like little black and white photos of lovers from the 50s, and in one of them they’re in front of their first house in the 60s.” 

“Why are you telling me about random extras from ancient times?” 

You scoff at his warped sense of time. “First off, this was only a few decades ago. Second…I actually don’t really know.” He snorts from the other side of the phone, and you fight to keep your voice to a whisper as you backtrack, trying to verbalize the vague train of thought in your mind. “I’m serious, Kats. I don’t know what it is about these photos. They just remind me of us.” You pick up one of a young couple standing in front of a vintage car at the beach. The boy has a smug look on his face, and his girlfriend is shaking her head exasperatedly. He must have said something stupidly endearing, just like the boy on the phone with you. 

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I just saw them and I like to think that, even if we were living in a different time, we’d still find our way to each other, somehow.” Another one caught your eye in the box, a family picture at a rest stop in the mountains. The parents tenderly hold a baby each in their arms, beaming at the camera and surrounded by towering trees. The image made your heart ache a little bit, so second-handedly happy for them that it was making you sad. You never would tell him, but you were really missing your boyfriend. 

“You bet your sexy ass I’d find you in another lifetime.” You roll your eyes. His crass language, however intelligent he was, really overpowered his intellect sometimes. 

“I don’t think you’d be using that kind of language if we were in like, the 1400s, Kats.” You find a funny one of a little boy triumphantly holding an ice cream cone in a bathtub and it reminds you of baby photos your boyfriend’s mom had showed you when you met her for the first time. 

“Then I’d kick the shit out of all the other suitors or whatever to win your delightful posterior.”

“Ew,” you laugh, covering your burning face with a hand. “Please don’t say that ever again.” 

“I know you’re blushing. Bet you look cute.” 

“Mhmm, blushing ‘cause of how fucking embarrassing you are sometimes,” you reply fondly, waving farewell to the older woman behind the antique counter. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I love you too. You free for lunch or are you headed back to the agency?” 

Your heart stutters. He always seemed to know when you were thinking about him, or missing his company. “I’m free right now, but aren’t you on patrol–”

“Aight, see you in a sec.” 

“Wait, Kats–” You look at your phone in disbelief. He’d hung up on you. Shaking your head, you have a seat on a bench and wait for the telltale noise of explosive rumbling to reach you. 

He was insufferable, yes, but you wouldn’t trade him for anybody else, this century or otherwise. 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[sturniyolos]

can u please do a fic or blurb or like headcannons for !singer reader x chris sturniolo? (i love ur writing omg)

You asked & you shall receive 💖. [thank you for the compliment I love you baby]

Singer!Reader x Bf!Chris

Mentions of SFW + NSFW.

SFW 🪐

- When you told Chris about your plans for an upcoming world tour, this man was already prepared. He had people measuring you for different costumes, already had stadiums on the phone, and even had an RV ready when you guys were still in the US.

“The agency and I are thinking about starting a world tour, but I’m still undecided.” You tell Chris, unsure of how he would feel. You didn’t know if he wanted to come or if he just wanted to stay back with his brothers.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Ma, this is huge for you. I gotta start packing and film pre-made videos. I’ma start calling people, aight?” Chris exclaims, picking you up and kissing your face all over.

“Chris, it’s not official. We were just thinking about it, alright?” You say, grabbing his phone from him to make sure he doesn’t spoil anything as this isn’t the first time Chris told the world about a secret you were planning.

“I’m just sayin’ baby, if you need people, you know who to find.” Chris says, pointing at himself. You scoff and roll your eyes playfully.

- One day at soundcheck, you were feeling a bit overwhelmed. You were on a time crunch and your staff was making you feel more stressed out. Chris in the stands was noticing how you were messing up lines you never mess up. How you were losing your balance and how you kept fiddling with the mic stand. He decided he had enough seeing you like this.

“Y/N, c’mon. We’ve been doing this for almost 30 minutes, let’s get going alright?” Your manager states. You must admit, you were giving everyone a hard time— making the audio guy replay the backtrack maybe 30 million times. You just didn’t know why you kept messing up your favorite note that you did. You started to feel anxious and that’s what made you get less and less confident. You see Chris in the audience chairs stand up. You already felt like shit making everyone’s day longer, and you felt more like shit when [you thought] Chris was over your shit too.

“Hey, I think everyone should take a 15. It’s been a long morning, alright?” Chris grabs your mic and speaks into it while interlocking your hand with his. You look up at him, silently thanking him.

“I don’t think so, she hasn’t gotten-.” Your manager starts to speak.

“Alright, 15 starts now. Be back by 11:30 everyone.” Chris says in the mic, while putting it back in the mic stand. Chris and you make your way backstage as you sit on the couch.

“I don’t know what’s happening, I’m sorry you had to see that. I just don’t-.” You start, almost on the verge of tears.

“Hey, hey. Take a deep breath and relax, okay? You have so much time to prepare. It’s better you take your time and be here all day rather than cramming everything together and not be happy with the performance, aight?” Chris states, holding your check into his hand.

You start leaning into his hand, holding his hand that was on your cheek.

“What would I do without you?” You say, looking into his eyes.

“The real question is, what would I do without Ms. Popstar.” Chris says, leaning in for a kiss.

After Chris’ pep talk, you became more confident and fixed your corrections asap.

- At your concerts, you had intermissions. This is when you would interact with fans, read different posters, or even answer questions. Chris loved being backstage when you got ready, but once you were on the stage, he loved being in the audience. He loved you spotting him and would getting butterflies in his tummy when you smile or even blow a kiss at him.

“Thank you, everyone!” You state into the mic, the audience yelling in return.

“While we do a 15 minute intermission, I want to see the different posters yall made so can we see them please?” You ask the cameraman, and everyone putting up their signs as fast as possible. You try reading the ones in front row first, and you notice Chris holding a sign.

“Can we please have a zoom in on this front row right here?” You state, smiling as you wait for the cameraman to zoom in on the poster.

“I HAVE BLUE EYES & A WHITE JACKET ON. DO YOU THINK WE’D HAVE GOOD BED CHEM?”

You read the poster as Chris is smiling on the side of it. Everyone in the stadium is screaming and even laughing. You start laughing into the mic, making everyone record.

“This guy in the audience is really cute. My manager will have you backstage with me later.” You state, blowing a kiss at him.

As the cameraman is still on Chris, he looks at the camera and blows a kiss at you. You can never get tired of this man.

NSFW 🕸️

- As you were writing in your songbook for your new music, Chris was in your bed, bored and horny out of his mind. He couldn’t deal with the fact that your in the smallest shorts known to man, paired with a crewneck cut on the neckline.

You were writing in your songbook. Erasing after writing after writing after erasing. You hear small footsteps making your way from behind you. You start to feel small kisses on your neck, getting deeper everytime a new kiss begins.

“C’mon baby, I-I’m busy.” You state, rolling your head back as he gets deeper into the kiss.

“Ma, you been here all day.” Chris says, making love bites into your neck.

Chris starts to trail his hand down your waistband of your shorts,

“You really want me to stop?” Chris whispers in your ear, knowing your answer already.

“N-no, please.” You say, easing his hands into your underwear.

“You want me to stop, but you’re soaking?” He says, smiling while doing so.

“Come’ere, I’ll take good care of you.”

You never ended up finishing that song.

- After concerts, you’d be so exhausted and so overworked, but you would never turn down sex with Chris. But this man will never let you do the work, he always wants to make you feel good, even if he doesn’t even cum. He gets pleasure on making you feel good.

Chris lays you on your shared hotel bed. He kisses you deeply as he chokes you softly. You moaning as a result.

“C-Chris, I’m so tired. Please.” You say, in between kisses.

“Did I ask if you were tired?” Chris asks, rubbing his thumb on your bottom lip.

“No, but I don’t want you to be doing all the w-“. You start, but he stops you.

“So, if I didn’t ask, why you worried about it, hm? Let me make you feel good, you did so good today mama.” Chris exclaims, kissing down your neck, to your chest, to your pretty thighs.

Chris starts taking off your bottoms, looking up at you for your okay. You nod as he continues. He begins placing kisses on your clothed cunt, you moaning as a result. He starts pulling down your underwear, leaving your cunt exposed. He pushes your legs against him, so your knees are in a triangle-like shape.

He starts licking your soaking hole, looking up at you. You throw your head back, moaning curse words over and over.

“You like that?” Chris asks, slowly inserting his long, slender fingers into you.

You couldn’t even answer, the pressure being too much and moans were the only thing coming out of your mouth.

“I know ma, I know. You’re being so good, you know that?” He asks, while licking and slurping your pussy even faster.

“Ch-hris, I’m cl-fuck.” You state, putting your hand over your mouth.

“Let me hear you baby, give it to me. Cum in my mouth, you deserve it.” Chris states. And that was your breaking point. As you finish, Chris is still eating you out, trying to get all the juices you have and leave you empty.

You look down as you see Chris wiping his mouth, and make his way to you.

“Sweet as always.” He says, kissing you.

- Right before you got on stage, you and Chris got into a little argument. The argument was so small, yet you were being petty like always. After the concert, you and Chris were just bickering back and forth. One thing led to another, and now your back is arched with Chris fucking you mercilessly.

“Yeah? You wanna act like a brat? Be my fucking guest.” Chris exclaims, grabbing your hands and placing them behind you.

“F-fuck, Chris. Oh my God.” You yell, unable to take his cock anymore.

“C’mon baby. We don’t wanna ruin that pretty little voice, huh? You’re gonna take this shit.” He says, whispering into your ear.

“Imagine what your fans would think about their favorite singer being a brat who likes being used. You like that huh?” Chris asks, pulling your hair so your head goes up from the pillows.

“Chris, p-please. You’re too b-big, fuck.” You state, putting your hands behind you to touch his stomach, trying to make him stop.

“Ion give a fuck mama, take it.” He whispers in your ear, fucking you even faster. The sounds of you struggling, to skin clapping, to Chris’ groaning was all that was heard in the hotel room.

“Gonna fucking cum inside you. Yeah, you want it? You want everyone to know you’re a cumslut, yeah?” Chris says, kissing down your back.

“Chris, I’m sorry fuck.” You say looking back at Chris, making dead eye contact with him.

“No. We gon stay here all night to you learned your lesson, yeah?” Chris states, flipping you guys over so you’re in missionary.

Long story short, the next day when you did your concert, you had to sit in a chair for the duration of it.

——————————————————————————

[peachy-panic]

Happy Birthday, Sebastian.

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-Adjacent, mentions of alcoholic behavior, homophobia, bad parental relationships, talk of parental death

“You didn’t mention it’s your birthday,” is the first thing Jaime says when they get back in the car. 

He’s getting better about that, Sebastian thinks. Initiating casual conversation on his own terms. On one hand, Sebastian is elated at the show of progress. On the other… 

Sebastian winces. The well-meaning bank teller had checked his ID and wished him a happy birthday while Jaime stood in earshot, keeping his expression neutral until they were alone.

“I didn’t,” Sebastian agrees, retrieving the two lollipops he had swiped from the bank from his pocket. “Red or blue?” he asks, holding them out to Jaime. 

He studies them for a few seconds—maybe trying to predict which one Sebastian prefers, maybe thinking about the strict rules around food inside the facility—before plucking the blue one from his hand. 

“Thank you,” Jaime murmurs. Then, after a pause, “Sorry. Did you not want me to know?”

Sebastian pulls the wrapper off and pops the cherry sucker in his mouth, then shifts the car into gear to avoid Jaime’s eyes. 

“It’s not a secret,” he assures him. “I just don’t like to make a big deal about it.” Or any deal at all. “I haven’t in a long time.”

For a moment, the only sound is the soft crinkle of Jaime’s wrapper as he unpeels and pockets it. “How long?” he asks.

Sebastian shrugs. “Few years,” he says, which might be understating things. He hasn’t had a real, proper, friends-gathered-round, cake-eating, too-many-shots-of-tequila birthday since his final year of undergrad. 

Well. Except for the tequila. That part doesn’t require friends.

For a moment, he braces himself for the inevitable why, but Jaime doesn’t push. Of course he doesn’t. Instead, he says something much more true to character:

“I’m sorry.”

Sebastian flashes him a quick smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he says. “I’m hardly a social butterfly.”

“What about your friends? Do they know that you don’t like to celebrate it?”

“Kind of makes it easier that I don’t have any,” he says lightly. Or, at least he intends for it to sound light. 

Jaime glances at him with what appears to be genuine confusion. “What about Aria and Sam? Ezra?”

And that makes Sebastian blink, because…

“Oh,” he says lamely, a small kernel of guilt and surprise forming. “Well, I guess… I mean, I didn’t know them until more recently. This was my first birthday since becoming… their friend, I guess.”

“What about your family?” It’s like Jaime hears his own question as it comes out, and surely he must feel the sudden tension that grips the silence between them, because he immediately backtracks. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “I shouldn’t have… That’s none of my business.”

The regret in his voice borders on fear, and Sebastian has to keep himself from reaching out to reassure him. 

“It’s alright. You’re allowed to ask me questions, Jaime. My parents…” He has to stop and swallow around a rising lump. “They’re not really in the picture.”

“Oh.”

Jaime doesn’t ask for more, but the silence—and maybe it’s not just the silence, he thinks—makes more words rush to the surface, breaching the floodgates to a subject he rarely speaks about.

“I mean, they raised me,” he rambles. “They’re alive. But I haven’t spoken to them in a long time. Since I was eighteen, to be exact.” He stops, really thinking about the expanse of time that now bridges between now and then. It feels like a mile and an inch all at once. “Almost a decade, now,” he adds quietly.

Sebastian is fairly familiar with the careful way Jaime chooses his words, so he’s not surprised when he takes a while to chew his next ones over, patient and only a little bit nervous.

“I’m sure you have a good reason.”

“Ha,” the bitter noise startles out of Sebastian. “Yeah, no, it wasn’t quite my decision.”

“Oh,” Jaime whispers. “They…?”

Sebastian nods, keeping his eyes straight ahead and his grip steady on the wheel. “They are religious,” he said, keeping his voice detached. “Traditional. Whatever you want to call it. And they didn’t take kindly to their only son coming out.” Sebastian flashes him a wry grin. “In case you weren’t aware, I’m extremely gay.”

Jaime doesn’t return the smile. “They kicked you out?”

“Technically, I was already leaving. I told them right before I moved away to college, but… Yeah. They cut me off completely after that. Anyway,” he finishes ineloquently. “My birthday isn’t much of a problem for them, either.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaime repeats. 

“Thanks, Jaime. It's okay, really. I’m fine now.” I’m fine now, he repeats internally, for good measure. I turned out fine.

For a moment, it almost seems like Jaime is going to argue, but he settles back into the seat instead, turning his head toward the window. 

They’re a few minutes from home when Jaime speaks again.

“My parents were out of the picture, too,” he says softly.

Sebastian has to grip the wheel so as not to crash the car out of utter shock. Because he can count on approximately one finger the number of things he knows about Jaime’s past, and this piece of information carries weight he didn’t expect to be handed right now. He wants to cradle this secret between his palms with all the delicacy of balancing a bubble on skin. 

“Yeah?” Sebastian nudges him carefully, stealing a glance in his periphery.

A single nod. “They died when I was young. Both of them. I... I grew up in foster care.”

It’s strange, what happens when you begin to build a relationship with someone from the ground up; how a piece of the puzzle can come in and snap others into place. How one sliver of context can start to paint a picture. How it can break your heart for the person sitting next to you, and also give you some insight on how they got there to begin with. 

An ugly chain of events begins to take root in his mind: passed from one government system to another, another vulnerable statistic slipping through the cracks. 

“I…,” Sebastian begins and immediately falters. “Jaime, I don’t...”

“I’m not supposed to talk about them,” Jaime says. "Or any of it."

“I know.”

“It’s hard to remember them clearly. It’s been so long.”

“You can talk about them with me,” Sebastian offers, knowing he is tiptoeing on precarious grounds. “If it helps to remember them.” Jaime nods, and Sebastian wishes he could reach over and take his hand. “How old were you? Only if you're comfortable saying.”

Sebastian watches the jerk of his throat as he swallows. “Eleven.”

“God, Jaime, you were just a baby.” You’re still so young. 

They come to a stop in the driveway, and Sebastian kills the engine, plunging them into a heavy quiet. From beside him, Jaime’s hands are a constant twitch of nervous energy.

“I want to say something,” Jaime says. “I… I don’t want to overstep. I’m sorry if I…” He stops to clear his throat, then looks up, piercing Sebastian through the middle with a rare moment of held eye contact. “I think your parents are wrong. For wanting you out of their lives.”

The contempt dripping from the word "wrong"—a brand new edge to Jaime’s normally soft spoken tone—suggests there is something far worse he’d like to say. But the fact that Jaime has voiced this much negative emotion at all speaks volumes. And despite the sore spot of the subject matter, something like fondness glows bright in his chest. 

He holds Jaime’s eyes for a few more seconds. “That’s nice of you to say.”

Jaime lets out a slow breath. He nods. 

As they retrieve the paper grocery bags from the trunk, Jaime’s shoulder brushes warmly against his own for just a fleeting second. “Happy birthday, Sebastian,” he says. 

When he smiles, the inner edge of his lips are tinted blue from the candy.

Sebastian, carefully, lets his shoulder nudge him back. “Thank you,” he says. “For that, and for telling me about your parents.”

He doesn’t say: your trust is the best gift I could have asked for. But he means it all the same.

****

When Sebastian comes out of his room, just after sunset, he stops short at the warm-sugared aroma of the house. His nose leads him to the kitchen, where he finds a small, circular cake sitting on the table. A singular candle flame flickers in the low light, and behind it, Jaime. The shadows dance over his mask of trepidation, his fidgeting hands held at waist height. 

“I hope this doesn’t count as a big deal,” Jaime says quickly, as if he’s been rehearsing the words in his head. “I found a pack of candles in the back of the cabinet, and you already had all the ingredients to make it from scratch, so I figured…” He stops short, eyes widening. “Are you okay?”

It is only then that Sebastian feels the moisture beading down his cheek. He wipes it away, a breathy, startled laugh escaping him.

“I kind of want to hug you right now.” The words sort of stumble out without much thought, and he stiffens as he hears them, ready to snatch them back.

But Jaime says, “You can, if you want.” He must hear the passive choice of words as he says it, read the apprehension on Sebastian’s face, because he shakes his head and rephrases. “I want you to. I’d like to give you a hug.”

And then he’s stepping around the table, and Jaime is in front of him. He holds his eyes for a moment, checking and double checking that this is alright. When Sebastian raises his arms in invitation, just a few cautious inches, Jaime steps into them.

It’s slow and soft, and it doesn’t linger. Just a few precious seconds of Jaime’s hands pressed flat against Sebastian’s back, of Sebastian’s arms featherlight above Jaime’s shoulders, and the warm pulse of heartbeats where their chests touch between them.

The cake is still warm, the frosting slightly melty, when Sebastian takes his first bite. He nearly cries all over again at the taste. Sebastian makes sure to cut Jaime the slightly larger slice, and relishes in watching him finish the whole thing.

They spend the rest of their Saturday night curled under blankets on opposite ends of the sofa, with Bella stretched out between them. Jaime’s eyes start to drift during the opening credits of their third movie, and by the end he is fast asleep. Sebastian allows himself a few selfish moments to watch him at peace. His mouth hangs slightly agape. Bella, who has crawled onto Jaime’s chest at some point in the night, vibrates with soft purrs against his neck. 

Sebastian blinks hard and remembers the wish he made as he blew out the candle—the first he had made since he was a child. 

Please, let him be happy. Please, let him be free.

*

@whumpervescence 

@shiningstarofwinter 

@distinctlywhumpthing 

@whumptywhumpdump

@nicolepascaline

@anotherbluntpencil

@hold-him-down 

@crystalquartzwhump 

@maracujatangerine 

@batfacedliar-yetagain 

@thecyrulik 

@pumpkin-spice-whump 

@finder-of-rings 

@melancholy-in-the-morning 

@insaneinthepaingame 

@skyhawkwolf

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump 

@mylifeisonthebookshelf 

@dont-touch-my-soup 

@whump-world 

@inpainandsuffering 

@cicatrix-energy 

@quietly-by-myself 

@whumpsday 

@extemporary-whump 

@the-whumpers-grimm 

@thebirdsofgay 

@firewheeesky 

@whumperfully 

@hold-back-on-the-comfort  

@termsnconditions-apply  

@cyborg0109  

@whumplr-reader  

@pinkraindropsfell  

@whatwhumpcomments

@honeycollectswhump 

@pirefyrelight 

@handsinmotion  

@alexmundaythrufriday 

@scoundrelwithboba 

@starsick1979 

@b0rgid

[yumisilver]

Nine-Tailed Travel Guide through the Multiverse Event!:

Into the Sonicverse

As it has come to be expected, it didn’t take long for Nine to run into this universe's version of Sonic. What caught him off guard, however, was that this Sonic RECOGNIZED him almost immediately. “Did I accidentally backtrack to a universe I’ve already been to? No, that’s highly unlikely (infinite universes and all that).”

 It didn’t take much longer for Nine to realize which Sonic this is; this must be the Sonic he met in the Shatterverse event!

Nine was astonished; he never thought he’d see his friend again after the universe was put back together. 

Once they separated, Sonic asked how the heck he was there. “Oh no--did Tails accidentally touch the prism?? Nine, have you seen any other versions of yourself around here??!” 

Nine tells Sonic to relax, and explains how he came here on his own, and his overall objective. Sonic seems relieved by this answer, and invites Nine to hang out at his home until he’s ready to go. Nine agrees. 

While walking Sonic tells Nine about what’s been happening since they saved the universe, and his current “predicament”.  At some point, Sonic met up with Shadow to discuss what to do with the Paradox Prism, like where the best place to hide it might be. During their conversation, Sonic got a bit too close to the prism, and it tried to pull him in (like how the individual shards did). Shadow managed to pull him out before it completely absorbed him, but the prism disappeared right after. Since then, Shadow has gone looking for it. Apparently Sonic coming into contact with the prism has some…unintended effects. 

They finally reach Tails’ workshop, and upon entry, Nine quickly realizes there are 

not one,

not two,

but THREE other Sonic’s sitting around and chatting (one of them was dangling from the rafters when they walked in)

“Everybody, this is my friend Nine from New Yoke City! Nine, this is Dash, Flow, and Tumble the Hedgehogs!” 

According to Sonic, these variants of him appeared around Green Hill shortly after the prism tried to absorb him. 

This is how he says he met them:

Tumble: They, quite literally, ran into each other.

Flow: Found by Amy and Rouge on the beach, seemingly having wiped out on his board. 

Dash: Found by Knuckles, who Dash started trying to fight immediately. He did the same when Sonic arrived. Apparently he thought he was in a simulation set up by the "Chaos Council". 

They aren’t sure why, but when Sonic touched the prism, it pulled the others from their prime universes to Green Hill, that was about a month ago. As of now everyone is trying to find a way to get the three hedgehogs home. 

At first, Nine isn’t sure how he feels being around four Sonic’s at the same time, but Sonic himself convinces him to give it a chance. If anything, his knowledge of dimensional travel could be really helpful to them, and…Sonic thought it would be nice to spend time with him again. 

At that, Nine concedes to stay, but only for a little while. Sonic is over the moon about it. 

Nine figured he would take some time to see what each of these Sonic variants were like, at least to some degree.

Tumble the Hedgehog

Original Dimension: Boscage Maze

Nine found Tumble to be very, VERY energetic, somehow more than Sonic himself. He never sits in one place for long, practically bouncing off the walls. His speaking is a bit broken, but he communicates just fine (apparently his first language is “canine”). He spoke a lot about his little brother Mangy, who he’d spend the most time playing with back home. His favorite game to play, Nine discovers, is a game he created called “Tumble Tag”. Similar to regular tag, someone is called “it” and their job is to chase down the other players. The only major differences in Tumble’s version being;

Tumble is ALWAYS it 

Whenever Tumble catches you, he gives you a 30 second head start to get away again

You don’t get to decide when you start playing, you don’t get to decide when you STOP playing 

Nine was forced to play with him for about 45 minutes before Sonic was finally able to distract Tumble long enough for Nine to get away. 

Honestly Tumble wasn’t AWFUL, he was just a lot. 

Flow the Hedgehog 

Original Dimension: No Place

Any time Nine spent one-on-one with Flow was filled with Flow’s seemingly endless stories and tales about his life on the high seas. Going on adventures, meeting his crew, fighting sea beasts, exploring the vast oceans….yeah he talked a lot. One of the few things Nine was actually a little interested in hearing about was his surfboard; It had a rudder with a gyroscope built into the underside of the board, which allowed Flow to control where his board goes via his center gravity. 

Upon asking, Flow went into a long story about how he’s the crews lookout, meaning he spent most of his time in the crows nest. But being such a high energy person, being confined to such a small place for so long was stifling, to the point even running laps around the ship wasn’t enough to settle him, and it was annoying the crew too. Luckily, his buddy Sails had the bright idea to upgrade Flow’s board so it doesn’t need waves to move through the water. Flow seemed ecstatic to talk about this, singing praises about his companion for HOURS. 

Nine decided asking wasn’t worth it in the end. 

Dash the Hedgehog 

Original Dimension: New Yoke City

Nine couldn’t help feeling a bit bitter upon learning Dash was from his home dimension, as he never got to have his own Sonic like most of his own multiversal counterparts. Upon questioning, it turns out Dash had initially fled Green Hill when the Chaos Council invaded, and only returned several years later to help the rebellion. Nine wondered if they would’ve found each other at some point if he hadn’t left so soon, but didn’t linger on the topic long.

Much to Sonic’s disappointment, Dash and Nine didn’t speak much to each other for the majority of Nine’s stay, as they had no real interest in getting to know each other, there was no point. 

Miles “Tails” Prower 

Original Dimension: Green Hill

Nine found this version of himself to be tolerable. He had a lot of questions, of course, he and his counterparts were all equally inquisitive. Tails was working on helping the Sonic counterparts return to their home dimensions, and so asked Nine lots of questions related to the topic. Nine unfortunately hadn’t mastered travel between SPECIFIC universes without the Paradox prism, so all he could provide was what little knowledge he had gained about multiverse travel and the prism itself. 

Tails also gave Nine a bag of mint candy to snack on, so that was a bonus. 

Sonic the Hedgehog 

Original Dimension: Green Hill

Nine found being able to spend time with Sonic without the constant threat of danger to be pleasant. Sonic spent a lot of time telling Nine all about his friends, what they like, what they don’t like, and how they differ from their multidimensional counterparts. He didn't linger on himself long, and was instead more curious to hear about Nine and his multidimensional adventures, so Nine obliged in telling him about the all the universes he had seen up until that point. 

Seeing how engaged Sonic was in his stories was also really encouraging. 

Overall, Nine enjoyed any time he got to spend with Sonic one-on-one. 

Something everyone seemed to neglect informing Nine about before nightfall was a certain ahem “condition” that Tumble has. According to Sonic, Tumble had informed all of them that he was born this way, and it only happens every couple of weeks after sundown (Tumble had assumed all his counterparts had this ability, which is why he didn't say anything straight away). While in what they call his “hedgewolf” state, Tumble becomes completely nonverbal and just a bit more feral. While still in his right mind, he seems a bit more influenced by his instincts while in this form. 

Tumble Tag becomes significantly more anxiety inducing when being chased by a hedge-beast double your size while also under the cover of night. 

Nine slept in late the next morning.

[Nine's personal log] - “From what I’ve been able to observe during my stay, dimension 6U441-/U441 has an overall stable environment and it’s ecosystem is decent. My radar did detect some minor anomaly, but I was unable to pinpoint a location. I let Sonic know regardless.  Population in this dimension is overall decent, aside from the ‘anomalies’ currently present due to the Paradox Prism." 

"While I find this dimension is decent overall and I wouldn’t mind being in Sonic’s presence more often, I’m not comfortable staying long term as the presence of my counterpart makes me feel... invasive. I'm sure Sonic would have a fit if I admitted that to him, so I’ll keep that to myself."

"I’ll stay until I’m positive the group is able to handle this “situation” of theirs on their own. I have no real obligation to stay, but I don’t mind hanging around for a bit." 

Eventually, Nine decides he’s ready to move on to the next dimension. Tails thanks him for all his help, Tumble tries to play with him one last time, and Flow holds Tumble back for Nine’s sake. Sonic is a bit disappointed, but he still wishes him the best. Dash and Nine don’t exchange words. 

Nine opens the next portal, but before he can go through, Sonic embraces Nine one last time. “You know, once you’re all settled wherever you end up...we wouldn’t mind if you ever wanted to try visiting us again. ” 

Nine smiles a bit, and ensures he’ll see what he can do. 

As he steps through the portal, all he hears is the voices of the group, wishing him safe travels. The portal closes behind him, and Nine continues on his journey. 

Dimension: 6U441-/U441

Time Spent: 2 1/2 weeks

Overall Rating: 7/10

“It was good to see an old friend, kind of wish it was ONLY him though.”

What awaits Nine on the other side of the next portal? Check 

#Nine-Tailed Travel Guide through the Multiverse to find out! 

[lightlycareless]

what would naoyas reaction be to finding out Satoru was y/ns first kiss?

Hello!!

Well, it would be chaos. LOL. Poor Naoya is very insecure even if it doesn't look like it 🤣 but why say this when I can show you?

warnings: fluff. a jealous naoya. satoru is a jerk? maybe. he likes to be silly. a lot. too much. also not sure if to tag this as a regular prompt or a side story, but considering that happened in my fic... i've decided to take it as a small side story.

Happy reading!

He would lose it. Even if you explained that it was nothing but a bet, curiosity getting the best of you and no feelings involved, Naoya would take this as a quick starter for his one-sided competition against Satoru.

He just had to prove how he was so much better than the Gojo heir in everything; from clothes, to cars, to what phone model he had for the moment, even the places he took you out to eat!

And naturally, Satoru wouldn’t even know what was going on, believing Naoya was simply doing whatever spoiled heirs did (never him, of course. Self-awareness is out the window) though he was curious to know what you thought of the matter, you appeared to be quite… overwhelmed by these sudden changes, surely, you’d be able to offer some insight behind all this.

Thus, after asking you to meet at a nearby café…

“You mean to say you don’t know why your husband is acting all…” Satoru scowls, failing to find the right word to describe his behavior, if there even was one…

“No, really, I don’t! I mean… sometimes he just likes to buy things! Sometimes for himself, sometimes for me, especially after a well-done mission or simply because we’ve been apart for far too long. I don’t like it when he does it impulsively, though, since I suspect he gets in trouble with his family over it…” You say. “Well, that’s a bit off topic—anyways, I don’t think he’s doing anything… differently. Why do you ask?”

“Come on, Y/N. You don’t actually believe that do you?? I’ve seen it in your eyes, you know that isn’t your typical obnoxious Naoya—”

“Don’t say that of him. And, well, I guess he’s been a bit off, but…”

“There! Now, let’s backtrack your steps, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Why does it matter so much to you? You’re the same too!” You frown.

Because he’s been far more attentive than he liked to let on; noticing that whenever he went all-out on his spending, he was around. With anyone else he was just… normal, he supposes. If that adjective could even be used on Naoya.

Or maybe because he didn’t want to take his actions as a reflection of his own. But since when did he even care what others thought of him? Might’ve been after one nasty comment from your sister…

“I’m actually more likeable but thank you for trying.” Satoru says, you roll your eyes. “Anyways, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Oh, if you really must know then I guess a few days ago?”

“And what happened then? You have to give me all the details Y/N! Don’t half-ass your story!”

“You’ll have to be nicer about it if you want me to tell you!”

“I’ll buy you any sweet you want—”

“I already have Naoya for that.”

“Then I’ll get you a copy of that game you’ve been looking for ages, deal?”

“Alright, alright.” You sigh, conceding. “…I mean, I don’t think there’s much else for me to tell you. We kind of just talk about anything that crosses our minds; make the most of our time together before he has to leave for work again, you know?”

“Ugh, that’s gross.”

“Satoru!”

“I mean—oh, poor you; anyhow, there must’ve been something you said that made him act this way! Come on, remember!”

“Well, we… we talked about wanting to go down to the city for dinner, before settling for the garden. We then laughed about something funny that happened to one of the servants, something that reminded me of that one thing I did when I was younger—with you, actually! You know which one, when I bet you a kiss—”

Oh.

OH.

And just like that, everything made sense.

“No, Satoru—I know that look, don’t even—!”

“Jealous?! Your husband’s acting like that because he’s jealous? Of me?!?” Gojo shrieked, undoubtedly having the time of his life with this revelation.

“No, he’s not! Stop it already, it’s not even funny…”

“I mean, surely you must know how he is.” He snickers. “He’s always been the competitive one, even when we were kids! I just never thought it would come to you—do you think he fears I’m going to steal you away? Or maybe—oh no, are you falling for me, Y/N??”

“What?! You need to lay off whatever it is you consume; it’s affecting your perception of reality!”

“How about it? Wanna see the limits his jealousy takes him to?” Satoru continues teasing. “Ah, he must be devastated that I took your sweet first time, do you think he has nightmares because of it? Wonders if he could ever compare to me?”

“No! Now, if you excuse me, there’s some misunderstandings I need to clear up.” You swiftly interrupt, standing up from your seat before making your way back home, back to an anxious Naoya who has been nothing but torturing himself with self-deprecating thoughts ever since you told him you were to meet Satoru. His biggest contender for your affections so it seems, the one putting his marriage in jeopardy…

But thankfully, you were there to ease all of these hurtful thoughts away, once and for all.

“Naoya… my dear, can we talk?”

“…What is it?” a pout on his face as he grumbles, side effects of his overwhelming jealousy.

“There’s a reason why you’ve done all that… compulsive spending, isn’t you?”

“No. I just do it because I want to.” He responds sternly, you sigh.

“I know why, Naoya. You don’t have to hide it anymore.” You reveal, making him tense for a quick moment before sighing too. “It was long ago, and it didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Ugh, I know, and yet—I can’t help but feel resentful. Like I… I lost something.”

“Oh, Naoya… but that was just a silly thing I did as a child, you know?” you coo, soon wrapping your arms around him and pulling him to you. “Besides, you’ve taken something much more important from me.”

“What?”

“My heart—and that is something no one will ever win from you, not even Satoru.”

“…I truly acted like a child, haven’t I?” Naoya says, embarrassed.

“Well, I always thought you were cute when jealous, but… never to the extent of making you insecure. Less with someone as annoying as him! How could you possibly even think I liked him?” you giggle.

“I don’t know… He’s… not that bad, I guess.” He looks away, flustered.

“Yet, he’s not you, silly.” You say, standing on your tiptoes to give place a sweet kiss on the lips. His heart warms up for the first time since that day, slowly melting away all his uncertainties. “He’ll never be. Thank God! So… does this mean we can settle everything and leave all this behind?”

“Only if you show me how much better I am than Satoru…”

“Was that even disputable?” you ask, Naoya’s arms snaking around your waist and pulling you even closer.

“No, I just need a reminder—wouldn’t mind a demonstration for him too…” he teases, you frown.

“… Just one kiss, and that’s it. Nothing more. You know I don’t like it when other sees us like this.”

“Of course, you’re only mine, after all.”

Y/N to the rescue 🥺 But don't I seem to always write her reassuring him? Thankfully I do have something planned for that... a jealous Y/N that needs to be reminded of how much Naoya truly loves her :))))

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! I'm sure I've spoken about Naoya reacting to Y/N's first kiss and how it involved Satoru (unfortunately) but this time around I've decided to write a little something :> I hope you enjoyed it!

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!

[lyrenminth]

Over the rain

Rainy days in Oregon were common during October, and you loved it when you had your big cozy boyfriend in bed, spooning you from behind.

But that wasnt the case today. Justin was mad at you, and you were mad at him. Everything started when you offered and interview in a friend podcast and he got mad because your started talking about your relationship with him. You did not say anything controversial really, it was the contrary but since he was extremely private he got upset, and you were fed up with that.

"Are you really giving the cold shoulder because I said good things about our marriage in a podcast?" you asked, standing in front of him. He was red from anger and did not want to look at you. Justin's anger was silent. "You know it is not for that reason" he argued back, voice low. "I don't want people noses in my marriage"

"Really? What's wrong with sharing that I have a happy marriage?" you snapped, raising your voice. "If this is about your privacy, don't worry but as the wife in the relationship I have the right to share whatever I want"

"I don't want you talking about me in those podcasts" he replied, coldly.

You laughed, incredulous. "Ok, another thing?" he rolled his eyes at your sarcasm. "You can't tell me what I get to say or not" you argued, feeling sick.

"We decided to keep things private!" he said, raising a little bit his voice, something uncommon.

"And they are Justin! Nobody knows a thing about our relationship besides that we are married. It was a two minutes conversation and you are making me feel awful about it" you said, your voice sounding watery "If you don't want to talk about the marriage, why did you marry me?"

"You know is not about you" you shook your head at his words, and went upstairs "I'm not going to apologize for saying that I have a great and supportive husband, that's nuts. I need time off"

You went to the bedroom to cry alone, because the feeling was choking you. You understood he was a private person, you understood you had an agreement, but why did it hurt so much? You wanted to share your hapiness and he didn't like it. After forty minutes, you wanted to talk to someone. You changed your clothes and put on a raincoat, the weather was gloomy but it was safe to walk outside. Your mom's house was twenty minutes away, and a walk could help to clear your mind.

Happy with your decision, you went out. Justin was in the living room, catching tape on mute. When he saw your fit he raised his eyebrows, stealing a glance at the window, the cloud were gray and heavy. "Were are you going?"

"To talk about our marriage with the neighbor" you said, snappy. You felt bad instantly but couldn't backtrack.

"There is a storming coming, you shouldn't be out" he ignore your snarky comment.

You grabbed an umbrella and the keys. "It is ok, Justin" you assured him. "I will call you"

You leave the house, and during the first ten minutes the weather was ok, then it became a fucking storm.

*******************************************************************

Justin was worried. Very worried. He couldn't watch the tape or pay attention to anything that wasn't the storm outside. The wind was harsh and so the rain, he realized you didn't took the car and he got a little scared. He was a asshole for arguing with you over the podcast. It wasn't a popular podcast, and it was true you only talked about the marriage like four minutes but he got mad anyway. He remebered you sad face when you went upstairs, you were heartbroken.

He rubbed his eyebrow and called you again. Nothing. There must be something with the signals. Maybe you were at your mom's house, you must. He called your mom, then your dad, nobody answered. The desesperation he was feeling wasn't normal. Why he didn't stop you?

He didn't want to think in the worst scenario. You were to precious to him, he didn't want to lose you...to hurt you.

Tha rain was pouring so heavily he couldn't see anything two meters ahead. He but a hoodie on, and grabbed an umbrella and the truck keys. He hold his breath all the way to your mom's house, in the short walk from the car to the door he got wet. He rang the bell, several times until your mom, opened the door, surprised to see him

"Hi, is Y/N here?" he asked, anxious.

"Yes, get inside, I'm going to bring you something to dry yourself" she said. Justin went to the living room, and you were there. Sitting down, with a blanket over your legs, a mug between your hands, and your beutiful eyes looking at the T.V, they were a little bit red. You were crying. Your hair was darker as if wet. When he cleared his throat, your gaze fell on him, your eyes widening with surprise.

"Justin? What are you doing here?" you almost dropped your mug at the sight of you tall husband looking all tousled and damp.

"I want to see you're fine" he said.

"But...there is a storm outside. Did you drive here?" you asked, incredulous.

"Yes, I did" your mom appeared with sandals and a blanket for Justin who thank her politely.

"I'm going to leave you talk" she said, with a warm smile.

Your mom knew you and Justin discussed, but you never told her the reason. It was a private bussiness.

You were frozen in your place as he approached you.

"I'm sorry" he said. You held your breath. "I shouldn't have gotten angry. You-you can share your hapiness over our marriage, even though you aren't happy now" he sounded so sincere and regretful.

"It's ok" you eyes started getting watery. How much you loved this man was beyond explanation. "I'm not angry anymore" He sat next to you, and you put the mug over the tiny table near the couch. "You are my husband, I choose you" he closed his eyes, feeling the words hit.

"Thank you" he said, opening his green eyes, showing a glimpse of vulnerability he didn't show often. You hugged him, an without much words, everything was fine again. Because the things between Justin and you were simple, honest, raw.

[createandconstruct]

can I request also the toshinko dadmight headcanons XD

👁️👁️ I owe you my life for asking, my friend

First, I just love them. Whether romantic, platonic, co-parenting duo—I just love them.

Also i'm going straight into end of the manga spoilers for these headcanons cause that's where my brain is currently sitting and spiraling?

In Izuku's 2nd year Inko and Toshinori start encountering each other a bit more often

They saw a bit of each other when Izuku and All Might were recovering in the same hospital room. It's where Inko learns that Izuku had sacrificed the quirk All Might gave him. She holds it together when Izuku tells her but once her son falls asleep she cries and cries and cries, unable to hold back even though All Might is there as a witness.

Toshinori confides in her that he's not sure of the future (he's essentially broke after using up all his money for the IronMight suit and he'd be homeless if he didn't have a dorm at UA) especially when it comes to Izuku's dream. Though he just can't believe this is the end of it. But no matter happens, he swears to her that his promise he made to her to stay alive and raise Izuku still stands.

And even though he renews that promise while on his back in a hospital bed, in a neck brace with plaster around every limb, it's even more powerful than the first time. Inko can't stop thinking about it even after Izuku is discharged.

It's why, once things have settled down, Inko asks Izuku if he'd like to invite All Might over for dinner

I like to imagine that Izuku elects to stay at the dorms for must weekdays but that he goes home on weekends to spend time with Inko. Part of it is admittedly because he's a little guilty—he put her under so much stress the last few months—be it's also because he just misses her.

And um yes! Izuku would like that! But he doesn't think All Might will say yes...he's still recovering from his battle and he's been busy working with Hawks on restoration. But Inko is very encouraging (almost insistent, which Izuku notes with some surprise) so Izuku relents and asks.

Imagine Toshinori's surprise when he gets the invite. He's at PT with Tsukauchi (who's there for moral support) when Izuku texts him and his immediate reaction is to slip from the bars when Tsukauchi reads the out loud message for him.

Toshi doesn't even have an answer at first because a part of him WANTS to go, and another feels it'd be too rude to reject what is Izuku's mother extending her thanks (nor does he want to reject Izuku when the boy is dealing with so much right now), but there's the matter of his diet and he doesn't want to be any trouble

But Izuku is a PSYCHIC (or very good at word vomit and backtracking) so he immediately messages that he already told his mother about Toshinori eating habits - and while he's embarrassed, he's thankful

He says yes and Tsukauchi watches on so so happy for his friend. Feeling like this truly is the first step in Toshinori's recovery that has been a very long time coming

And after that first dinner there's many more. Sometimes when Izuku comes home for the weekend he'll be the one to ask if Toshinori can join but sometimes Inko will extend an invite. At some point the two exchange numbers because in all the craziness they somehow never did when Izuku went AWOL and left UA.

And over these dinners that go on for most of Izuku's second year Inko finds herself learning more and more about the man behind the hero. She even feels a little bad, always calling him All Might, that she asks and is surprised when he gives her his name with only the hesitation of surprise and...gratefulness? It certainly feels that way whenever she refers to him by his last name & catches his expression

And the more she learns, the more that so much about Yagi Toshinori strikes her as a little too familiar. He shares one evening, helping her wash the dishes as Izuku picks out a movie for the three of them to watch, that he has no living family. No parents, no grandparents, no siblings, just an old teacher and Izuku. And it makes Inko (single mother, married young, without her parents, without siblings, estranged from any extended family, with only her little apartment and son) feel seen.

Things move very slow. But there's definitely a change. When the sport festival comes round again for the second years, Toshinori invites Inko to come see it live. Izuku competes and gets very far despite not using his quirk! (The school elected on not including a battle event this time around). And Inko has the worst/best time of her life cheering for her son right along with All Might.

They all go out to eat after and pick a small little place, to avoid Izuku or Toshinori from being recognized. It's so relaxed, comfortable, warm, something Inko realizes...she's growing used to

That same school year the cultural festival is reopened to the public and Inko goes thinking she'll walk around with Mitsuki until Izuku is free to say hello (she doesn't want to pull him from his friends). But then she runs into Toshinori and suddenly he's offering to show her around and then the two of them are exploring the festival together. And it only hits Inko as strange when they get to Izuku's class and her son waves, running up to him with a bit of surprise behind his eyes. "Oh, how come you're with All Might, Mom?"

And...that's a great question.

Then there's Toshi. He's partial to cooking but never really did it for himself. In fact he'd only started up again because of Izuku. Making bentos for their lunch meetings during school and for when the kid was working himself ragged on the run. But now he's bringing his own side dishes when he joins Inko and Izuku for dinner. Now, he's asking if there's something maybe he could try making. Now, Midoriya Inko is asking if he'd like to join her at the supermarket where she tends to shop and he's accepting.

It's a bit of a song and dance for almost a full year. Dinners, school events, shopping, walks. Inko sharing stories and pictures of Izuku that begin revealing more and more about herself. Toshi responding with the same courtesy.

There's this building comfort. This familiarity. This something Inko isn't sure she ever really had even with Hisashi when he was here in the time before Izuku was born.

Something Toshinori didn't even think he wanted, but now that he has it—feels it whenever he walks through the Midoriya's front door—he doesn't want to lose it

But everything comes to a halt when one day during his second year Izuku comes home with Toshinori in tow, which is not unusually for a Friday. What is unusual is Izuku saying he wants to talk with them both after dinner. The matter being the "UA Preparation for the Future Survey all the second years have received.

For a hero student, this would be a chance to review potential offers of work at a specific agency upon graduation, to see if a pro has extended an offer to begin as a sidekick, or to declare plans for startup work if a student plans on creating their own agency. For Izuku…

The fear Inko has for her son will never disappear but ever since she saw him fight from the safety of UA's fortress, her belief in him triumphs said fears. And she can't help but think Toshinori feels the same. None of them have really talked about this, or at least, not all together. Toshinori had mentioned a few times that Izuku had been sharing whenever the "embers" felt a little less but that had really been the extent

Toshinori starts the conversation, saying what Inko also wants to, that they'll support him, that they'll find a way, that even quirkless they'll make it work—but Izuku interrupts.

"I've decided." And by the look in his eyes Inko knows there'll be no convincing him otherwise. "I'm going to apply university."

He confesses to seriously considering his future. To reflecting on how he could continue to help people. To inspire and encourage others to feel like they could also reach out.

"Maybe I could try to be a hero quirkless..." And even though he doesn't cry Inko does when he looks to her and says, "But after everything...I'm not sure that's a risk I'm willing to take. I want to make sure more than anything that I can come home to you...both of you."

And then Inko's not the only one crying, Toshinori is too, and Izuku is poorly swiping at some tears but his voice doesn't waver at all when he says, "I want to be a teacher at UA"

[winterlogysblog]

✨4KOTA 141✨

I have a lot of things to say about this Chapter.

First things first. Sixtus. Love him.

His entrance. Great. 10/10

I also find it so funny how Sixtus' magic is casually dropped on us like this with no explanation, it's frustrating when it comes to analyzing the lore but it's hilarious how casual it was, like yeah Sixtus can do this, this is normal, no need to think about it too much lol. In a sense, this makes sense actually since in the lens of someone who hasn't read 7ds this is just showing what Sixtus can do and will be further explained later.

A little detail I noticed is this.

Apparently, the place they're in currently is the Fairy Kings Forest that was burned years ago. It's quite nice to see how the trees and plants around are starting to grow back and in the distant future it'll grow back to a forest again. It's also intriguing how this place doesn't seem to be affected by Arthur taking chucks of land off Britannia, at least it looks that way.

I also made a previous post that these Chaos mages may just be after the ancient medicine, I'm right on that one and it's called the Drug of Yore and as explained by Sixtus

This very well is the same elixir that King used to cure Elizabeth in Grudge of Edinburgh and after hearing this Mertyl contemplated that it may just be what he needs to essentially "cure" his body.

As established, Sixtus can read minds and it's quite nice to see his reaction when Mertyl thought of this. Sixtus must have known that Mertyl is not really his brother but he still views him as his big bro, he's concerned for him and he knows that that drug won't have any effect because the reason why Mertyl is sickly is because he's a human in the Fairy Realm.

Now, why Arthur's minions are after the Drug of Yore is quite interesting. The Drug of Yore is actually the perfect cure for Diodra and I wonder if Arthur is after it for Ironside's sake (probably not lol)

I also want to take a moment and talk about this panel. King started off outright saying that Nasiens is his long lost son and he's been searching for him this entire time then he backtracks and changes the subject. This is a good moment to note that King wants to tell him the truth but just doesn't know how to discuss it to him. To be fair, it's a hard topic to start.

King went on to discuss Spirit lore and that the tunnel of whispers is a quiet place where you can hear the voices of spirits. This could be the primary reason why he decided to put Percival there. King then added that he has a gift for Nasiens, this could very well be the Drug of Yore that they can use to bring Percival back once they get into contact with his Spirit.

Also, I wanna know whose idea it was to bring Percy to the Fairy Realm, cause sure the Fairy Realm has a place like this but no one could have known unless they asked King about it.

Now, a lot of people speculate on how Mertyl can be manipulated into joining Camelot because of his desire to get the Drug of Yore and King's inevitable decision to give it to Nasiens. Which is a cute plotline but not anything major.

A lot of people also want the pace to speed up a bit and focus on the knights. Which to be fair, yeah we should. But this arc does a few things for the plot, this arc is basically showing us the way to bring Percival back and introducing new characters that will be relevant later on, also we gotta remember that Lancelot is King's nephew and he could pop up at any time.

I can see the Drug of Yore and Percival's revival to be center stage for this arc, as all plot points are connected to it. King seems to know a whole lot about Life Spirits and Spirits in general so he could be Percy's guide into understanding himself better.

Overall, a great Chapter can't wait for the next one.