#but i feel like i can never get them to look the way i want to

[autumnscribbles]

take care of you | rc

pairing: mommyissues!rafe x pogue!reader

summary: after a heated argument with ward, rafe seeks comfort from the only woman in his life who’s ever stayed

warnings: wee bit of theorizing about mama cameron (death)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: hey friends!! thank you to the anon that sent this request in!! i love me a soft rafe moment who just needs to be held🥹 enjoy!! feel free to send me more angsty/soft rafe i love it!!!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Rafe slammed the truck door shut behind him, twisting his key into the ignition. Ward stood in the doorway ahead of him, his mouth moving but his words unheard. Rafe stopped listening to him even before he decided to leave. He couldn’t listen to it anymore. The rain pelted the windowsill, overpowering the pounding sound of his accelerated heartbeat. He pulled out of the driveway, no destination in mind. He just had to leave.

As he drove, his headlights broke through the rain ahead, illuminating the pitch black road. His breathing was still heavy, trying to ignore his fight with Ward. They weren’t exactly few and far between, but this one had escalated particularly badly. He replayed it over and over, on the verge of screaming just to make it stop.

He didn’t know why he tried to hard to impress Ward, or to get his validation. Everyone is his life left in one way or another. Whether it was on their own terms, or they were taken. He clung to Ward and the fact that just maybe, he would stick around. Be proud of him. In the end, everyone gave up on him. Everyone screwed him over.

Except maybe one person.

When Rafe first met you, he didn’t like you. He never thought he could be friends with a pogue, let alone be with one romantically. You had too much confidence for someone who didn’t have very much. He admit, he thought less of you. He judged you about things that didn’t truly matter. Eventually, he began to find you endearing. You didn’t need boats, a big house, designer clothes, or anything material to be happy. You knew who you were, and he admired that.

You understood him in ways no kook ever had, and probably more than any kook ever will. You knew hardship, and you saw through his bravado. You could tell deep down, he was in pain. No money could fix what was truly happening inside. All the other kooks were shallow. Never having any conversations with substance, just rambling about bullshit. Rafe never really fit in with any of them. He pretended to be friends with most of them, to keep up appearances and his reputation. At the end of the day, he knew none of them truly cared about him. Even worse, he knew they would mock him if they knew he was with you.

Without realizing, Rafe ended up pulling into your driveway. Through the still pouring rain, he could barely see your house. All the lights were off, including the porch light. Were you home? He didn’t even know. As his mind reeled, he automatically drove here. He wanted to see you. Wanted your comfort. Before you, he hadn’t had that in a long time. Since his mom…no one had ever been there for him. No one to tell him things would be okay, no one to comfort him, or hold him. He craved it.

He hopped out of the car, jogging through the rain to your front door. He rapped his knuckles, hoping you would appear on the other side. He saw a light turn on inside, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

You opened the door, met with a dripping wet and sad looking Rafe on the other side. You were surprised to see him. You had some distance from each other recently, since Rafe told you that his friends couldn’t know about your relationship. You pulled back as he continued to hang out with them, unsure how to move forward.

Seeing him here made your heart sink. He pouted as his blue eyes bore into yours, sadness overcoming his entire expression.

“Can I come in?” he asked. “Please.”

“Of course,” you muttered. You stepped aside, letting Rafe into your empty house.

He crossed the threshold, a shiver coming over his body at the sudden change of temperature. His wet clothes left him cold, making the warmth of your house even more shocking to his system. He wiped at his face in attempt to dry it.

“Are you cold?” you asked gently. “Here let me go get you some clothes and a blanket.”

You walked away for a moment, leaving Rafe standing in your doorway. You gathered a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that belonged to your brother. He wasn’t here, he wouldn’t mind. You snatched your fuzzy blanket from your bed, scurrying back to where Rafe stood waiting. You passed him the clothes, offering him to go change.

As he took his time, you put a kettle of water on the stove. Opening your white cabinets, you rummaged through the various flavours of tea you had. You settled on chamomile. You knew Rafe liked it, even though he would never admit it to literally anyone else. You grabbed 2 mugs and placed the tea bags inside as the kettle began whistling.

You took the two steaming mugs out to the coffee table, where Rafe sat on the couch, waiting for you.

“Here,” you muttered, handing him the mug. You grabbed the blanket, placing it across his lap. “That should warm you up.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, gentle eyes looking up at you.

You sat down beside him, tucking your legs up on the couch. You both sat in silence for a moment, sipping your tea. He let out a small sigh after his first sip, a little smile tugging at his lips.

“My favorite,” he whispered. You responded with a nod.

“You take such good care of me,” he said, breaking the silence more. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Rafe,” you sighed.

He shook his head, not wanting you to deny the truth. He didn’t want you to tell him that he deserved it when he knew it wasn’t true. You were consistently there for him, exuding a kindness he’d never felt. Yet what did he do in return? Essentially tell you he’s embarrassed about your relationship. It was ridiculous, and you shouldn’t be nice to him.

“Come here,” you whispered, opening your arms to him.

His eyes welled up with tears, and he leaned over, resting his head on your lap. You tugged the blanket up slightly higher, covering his torso. You ran your hands through his hair and down his back, feeling the tension release from his body.

Unexpectedly, the tears continued to fall harder. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as he heaved out a sob.

“You’re okay,” you cooed. “I’m here.”

He let out all the emotions he had been trained to hold back. Grown men didn’t cry. Strong men didn’t cry. This is what he was told over and over. No one ever let him express himself freely, or show vulnerability. For some reason, he felt safe to show it around you. Confident that you didn’t judge him, or view him as weak.

He didn’t realize how much he was craving to just be held. To have his hair played with, his back scratched. To be told it’s okay. He couldn’t remember a time when someone treated him so gently. He wondered if his mom was the last person who truly took care of him. Now, he felt responsible to take care of people around him most of the time.

“Talk to me,” you said. “What happened?”

“My dad,” he blurted out. He rubbed the tears from his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. “We got into a fight, as always. I accused him of…of killing my mom.”

“What?” you asked, unable to hide the shock in your voice. “Do you really think…”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was too young, but sometimes what he says just doesn’t add up. Doesn’t matter anyway, not like anything would happen to him.”

You nodded silently, knowing he was right. Even if Ward had killed her, no justice would be had. You knew Rafe grappled with the loss of his mom. Rose wasn’t exactly a replacement. She was cold, unkind. Rafe was in a constant battle with Ward. Trying to impress him, get his validation. Rafe grew up wanting his dad’s success, but most of all he just wanted his love. His acceptance. He didn’t think he would ever have a real family. That possibility only came into view when he met you.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” you consoled him. “I know how tense things can get with your dad. My arms are always open if you need a break, or need to talk.”

He sat up from your lap, facing you. His eyes were bloodshot from his previous tears. His usually hard features had softened, his eyes still carrying a deep sadness that you knew you couldn’t fix.

“I’m going to tell everyone we’re together,” he told you. “You’re…you’re perfect. You don’t deserve to be hidden. I don’t deserve you in general.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “When you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” he nodded. “I think…I think you’re the only person who actually cares about me. Who listens and…sees me.”

Your eyes welled up slightly. You weren’t expecting Rafe to say something so vulnerable like this. His rough edges were beginning to soften around you.

“I see you, Rafe,” you told him. You reached out and cupped the side of his face, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone.

He leaned forward, his warm lips crashing onto yours. The kiss was desperate, yet gentle. You didn’t realize how much you had missed this. When you pulled away, Rafe’s eyes were glistening once more.

“Everyone in my life leaves, or screws me over,” he told you, repeating his previous thoughts. “Please don’t leave me.”

You pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around him. He melted into your touch, safety and warmth encompassing his entire being.

“I’m here, Rafe,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You heard his stomach gurgle, making you let out a quiet chuckle. “Hungry?”

He nodded into the crook of your shoulder. You laughed once more as he pulled back, a smirk on his face.

“Let me make you something,” you told him. You planted a kiss on his cheek before standing up, placing the blanket over his carefully. “You just sit here and relax, okay?”

“I love when you take care of me, baby,” he murmured as he rested his head on the arm of the couch.

You smiled down at him before going into the kitchen to make him some food. He felt safe with you. You had to admit that your heart soared at the thought that you were the first person he came to after a fight with his dad. The first person he opened up to about his mom, to try in front of.

You didn’t even realize it would always be you. You would always be the first person he would run to, even in a crowded room.

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[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS AND YOU (their crush)

KISSING THEIR CHEEKS

( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )

warning : none just fluff

note : little nod to max's 4th championship win, congrats to him, sooo proud !!

─ OSCAR PIASTRI

I know for sure boy was blushing so so hard. But it's absolutely adorable and cute. Oscar is very patient with you, and even though he dreams of being able to touch you in a more than friendly way, of being able to at least have the right to a little kiss, he restrains himself and tries not to act under his impulses. . However, when you decided to quickly kiss him on the cheek, out of nowhere, he actually felt himself melting from the inside. His cheeks have never blushed so much, and his heart has never beaten so quickly.

─ LANDO NORRIS

Ugh, you guys can barely hold eye contact, but he's already so in love. So mad in love even. Despite the fact that you are still shy, especially him, that you struggle to make eye contact without blushing afterwards, Lando can't help but ask for more. Just a little extra. So, when he walked you to your doorstep, he immediately asked you if he could have even a mini kiss. Your lips naturally landed on his cheek, brushing against it, almost like a ghost kiss. And when you pulled back oh... He was already touching the place where your lips rested, cheeks as pink as yours.

─ CHARLES LECLERC

This was absolutely surprising to Charles. But he would love to be able to feel that feeling again. When your lips pressed naturally against his cheek, your hands framing his face perfectly. He didn't move for at least a good two minutes, trying to figure out what just happened. If it was real. He was so shocked that he didn't see you lean in again to place another sweet kiss. He blinked a few times, and you could only giggle silently. Oh, it was the best day of his without a doubt. And if he could live it again, he wouldn't hesitate for a single second before saying yes.

─ CARLOS SAINZ

He only had eyes for you. And he loved seeing you smile, and making you happy. So from time to time he spoils you, and although you don't like it when he buys so many things for you, you always end up thanking him warmly because after all, it's adorable. You always hugged him, hugging him a little tighter each time, but this time it was different. You wanted a change from hugs, so with a surge of courage and love you gently kissed his cheek to thank him. He was dizzy, almost on the verge of passing out. He couldn't hold back a shy smile, and above all he couldn't settle for a hug from now on.

─ LEWIS HAMILTON

He waited there patiently, sitting in a corner of the garage before getting in his car. You were a few feet away from him, watching the mechanics adjust the final modifications to the car. He couldn't help but admire you. And stare at your lips. God, he would give anything to be able to feel them against his skin. And as he was about to get in the car, he stopped when he felt your arm rest on his forearm. And without knowing how, your lips crashed onto his cheek in a quick kiss. His best smile appeared on his face, as he tried to hide his blush by putting on his helmet. Finally, his wish came true, right?

─ GEORGE RUSSEL

He can't stop replaying the scene in his head. He already found you so perfect, so beautiful and incredibly intelligent. It wasn't just a crush anymore, it was George, a simp for you. But already his heart was speeding up just by looking at you, he really thought it was going to stop beating when you gently kissed him on his cheeks. It was pure, sweet and... terribly affectionate. He tried to appear as normal as possible, but inside he was a mess. His whole body was telling him to kiss you and tell you everything he has in his heart right now. And he's sure that day will come soon, because there's no way another day will pass without a kiss from you.

─ MAX VERSTAPPEN

As the race draws to a close, Max is finally a 4th time F1 world champion. And getting out of his car, as he proudly waves his arm to greet the crowd, only one thing is on his mind. You, you and only you. So it was natural that he found you among the crowd, looking at you as if only you existed in the world. His hair was still damp, his face still covered in drops of sweat, but that absolutely didn't stop you from pressing your soft lips against his cheek, for a long time. Passionately. And oh, that sweet gesture was better than any championship. His eyes spoke for themselves.

─ DANIEL RICCIARDIO

He will never, ever stop teasing you about the kiss you gave him. Quite simply because he loves seeing you smile and laugh, but above all because he secretly wants you to repeat this gesture over and over again, for eternity. Honestly, you wouldn't even have to ask him for permission as he will already be ready to receive another kiss from you on the cheek. It was by far the most beautiful experience of his life, and oh, his heart always asks for more when he sees you. So, he hopes to feel your lips on his skin again, even if it costs him to tease you all day long.

[creamflix]

christmas event looks so kewl! can i have sukuna + mistletoe (naughty) please? 😽😽

you’ve received a gift! ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ want your own gift? ・:〃➜ click here! 

SUKUNA has never understood your fascination with christmas. 

the baubles, the garlands, the lights strung across the tree — it all seems excessive and nonsensical to him. when he catches you draping the tree with shiny ornaments, your tongue peeking out in concentration, he’s half-tempted to ask if this is some kind of sacrificial ritual. 

but he keeps quiet. mostly because watching you enjoy yourself so thoroughly feels... oddly satisfying.

the mistletoe, though? that’s where things get complicated.

he first notices it dangling from the ceiling in the entryway. you don’t bother explaining it, brushing past with a knowing smile, leaving him to squint suspiciously at the strange green plant. 

“warding off spirits?” he mutters to himself. “what kind of pathetic charm is this?”

of course, his assumptions are shattered after an admittedly frustrating deep dive into google, of all things. the man searches everything from “green thing christmas ceiling” to “magic christmas plant meaning” before finally landing on an answer. 

and when he learns the truth? his mood sours instantly.

a kiss. it’s some absurd tradition that demands he kiss you underneath this thing. 

you’re his; he doesn’t need some ridiculous plant giving him permission. but then again... maybe it’s not so bad if it’s an excuse to remind everyone else of that fact.

the next time you catch someone entering a room under mistletoe, sukuna is already there, arms crossed, posture tense. his crimson gaze flickers between the plant and the unsuspecting victim like a predator sizing up its prey.

“don’t even think about it,” he growls lowly, stepping deliberately into their path. his presence alone is enough to make them reconsider, slinking away without so much as a glance in your direction.

“suku!” you scold, but your amusement betrays you.

“don’t ‘suku’ me,” he snaps, scooping you into his arms and positioning you directly under the mistletoe. “you think i’m going to let anyone else get near you? this is my right.”

his lips claim yours in a possessive kiss, fierce and unrelenting, as if marking you all over again. and when you pull back, breathless, his lips merely shift to your jaw, trailing downward in a heated path.

“sukuna,” you murmur, half-laughing, half-scolding. “that’s enough! it’s just a silly tradition.”

“no,” he grumbles, hands sliding to your waist and tugging you closer. “it’s a tradition that involves my human. and if some stupid plant demands it, i’m not going to stop at one kiss.”

his lips find the sensitive spot on your neck, and you can feel his sharp teeth scrape teasingly against your skin. one of his hands creeps beneath your shirt, splayed warm and possessive across your back.

“kuna, stop! your hands —”

“my hands are exactly where they belong.” his voice is a low rumble, a mix of defiance and desire. but he finally relents, letting out a dramatic sigh as he pulls away, though his hands linger at your waist.

“fine. you win. for now.”

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re impossible.”

“and you love it.” his smirk is smug, but there’s something softer in the way his thumb brushes against your hip, his gaze lingering on your face.

truthfully, he still doesn’t understand half your human traditions, but if they involve you — your laughter, your blush, your kisses — he supposes they aren’t so bad.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡

[ilikeyoshi]

"#yes yes yes!!!! #and ngl it makes me want to read or engage with it more too!"

i hope it's ok to point out these tags bc this is SUCH a huge mood i think deserves a little more explanation!!!! (at least from my perspective as both a creator (writer) and fan (of artists))

i used to have a ton of anxiety when creating and especially sharing my works, and my impulse was always to talk down on it, because a) i* (*my anxiety) believed it to be bad, and b) because i had this idea in my head that if i lowered people's expectations, they wouldn't be as disappointed when reading it.

i want to tell you what i've learned in my years of both being a writer and being a fan of artists, and it's that this is a terrible, terrible anxiety fallacy (like so many ideas/misconceptions borne of anxiety are) that ONLY hurts you, your work, and your potential readers(/fans/etc). it SOUNDS like a good idea when you have really bad anxiety, i know, i used to DEPEND upon this idea just to have the courage to SHARE my writing—and i want to emphasize that it's OKAY if you've done this before, it's an easy, easy trap to fall into, but i also want you to try and stop doing it because there are a lot of reasons you would feel better and do better for doing so.

you are what you practice! if you only ever focus on or speak about the flaws in your art, you WILL feel negatively about your art. my very first therapist explained it in a way that still really resonates with me: you have created a well-beaten, highly trafficked "road" in your brain. it is very easy to take this road because even though it's longer to your destination, it winds and bends, it's walked on so much it's flat and easy to traverse. when you try to build a NEW path—in this case, a path where you focus on what you like about your art—you're starting with no path at all. it's all undergrowth and vines and thorns and it hurts and it's tiring and you feel like this will NEVER be easier or feel better than the old path. but you have to keep taking the new one. you have to beat down the undergrowth until it recedes, cut down the low-hanging branches until you can walk with your back straight, and if you keep at it, if you keep at this thing that feels so pointless and stupid and hard, eventually, the path will be clear, and easy to walk, and you'll make great time getting to your destination because it cuts straight through; no winding or bending. and the old path? it will overgrow, and it will become hard and stupid to take. you have to beat the new path because once it's beaten, it'll be the far superior path in every way, including ways the old path was never superior even when it WAS the one you were always taking.

further—as these tags point out, and as i agree with wholeheartedly—by disparaging your art, you DO lower people's expectations. people don't want to be sad, frustrated, disappointed when they look at art—at least, not unless the art itself is trying to tell a story about that. you get what i mean, i hope—they don't want to go INTO something they already HAVE negative reviews on—your reviews! you, the creator, have already told this person the story/art/whatever is going to be bad, and i know, i KNOW it's not your intention, you're hoping someone will see through what you can't and tell you no, no, this is good, i liked this! and some people do! but you make it a lot harder for them TO do that when you tell them right at the beginning, "this is going to be bad, i don't like it," because what you're unintentionally telling them is, "and you probably won't like it either." the first way i learned this was in people always saying in their fanfic summaries, before you even open the fic, "the summary is bad, i'm bad at writing summaries, the story is better trust me bro." because what this does—again, so unintentionally, i KNOW what you're trying to do because i've been you—is you're telling the reader, "here's my pitch, here's the hook to my entire story, it's the worst part, it's bad, but the rest will be better," and what they KNOW is they've already put the time in reading the summary, and it's hard to commit MORE time to something when you've already told them it's bad, even if you promise the rest is better. it's like biting into a fruit and you hate the taste of the skin; it's harder to try the rest of the fruit when, so far, it's been bad (or you've been made to believe it's bad).

so what's the solution? how do you begin beating that new path? well, it depends on you. everyone's a little different in how they navigate stuff like this. but what worked for me, and what might be a good place to start (and by all means adapt as you figure out what works and what doesn't), is start by just NOT saying anything negative. no, "i don't like this," or "the summary's bad, sorry," or anything. write your artist's comment, author's note, whatever as normal, and REMOVE anything that depicts your art/writing/etc in a bad light. just don't give people any opinion whatsoever on what experiencing your creation is going to be like. this, for me, was easier than jumping straight to, "i'm pretty proud of this," or "i enjoyed working on this," because it wasn't withholding AND replacing, it was JUST withholding. going back to the roads and paths metaphor, i think of this part as the "taking a breather before i get to work on this monumental task of beating this new path" stage.

then, overtime, i started "stretching" my positive comments about my works. if i liked, say, TWO LINES out of a whole piece of writing, i'd say, "i'm really proud of this work!" because i AM proud of ANYTHING AT ALL, NO MATTER HOW SMALL, within the work. it's not a LIE, to anyone including yourself, but it is, perhaps, an EXAGGERATION. that's OKAY. we're trying to teach our brain to look on the bright side, to take the new path, and i've found that treating it a little bit like a dog—giving it a treat for ANY TINY BIT OF PROGRESS, was a good way to encourage myself to start making MORE progress. ESPECIALLY because the tags i reposted above are RIGHT: LOTS of people are MORE interested in a work when their very first impression (YOUR impression!!!) is positive. 'the artist/writer/etc is proud of this? oh, i'm so glad they had a good time creating, let's take a look!" it probably sounds too easy if you're still taking that anxiety-beaten road, i know, but try to think of how you've felt when someone disparages their creations versus uplifts them. were you put off by the negativity? were you sad that your friend worked so hard on something and didn't even like it? conversely, doesn't it make you a little excited when an artist says they really feel good about something they made, especially in a world where so many artists ARE feeling inadequate? i hope you see what i mean.

it's not an overnight thing, of course, this took me YEARS. this took a miracle that doesn't happen to most people: i wrote something i felt SO TERRIFIED people wouldn't like, even though i was secretly very proud of it (but too scared to dare suggest i was proud of it), so i indicated all kinds of things like "i hope you like it, i dunno if it's any good, it's just a little thing i'm chipping away at in my spare time" (it was not, it was a full-blown passion project) and, against the odds, a LOT OF PEOPLE told me they really really really liked it. a couple of friends who were decently popular in the fandom it was for liked and shared it and i got A LOT of encouragement. i basically got to beat my new path with a HORDE of helpers, and it was more like THEY beat the path for me and i chased along like, "what is happening, oh my god, what are you doing???"

i got really lucky. that doesn't always, or even usually happen. in most other areas of my life, i've had to beat the path myself. and it takes a long time if you're doing it on your own. but you should anyway, because it's so fucking worth it dude. yeah, it was awesome to get so much help with my writing confidence specifically, but it's been just as worth it every time i've had to do it alone too. and i have good news! there ARE ways to tell people you're on this journey of making yourself a new path. here are some suggestions:

"i'm new/rusty at this, so please let me know what you think!" - informs potential readers/viewers/etc you are learning and gives them an opportunity to HELP you learn. this is a positive interaction! this allows people to find a GOOD experience EVEN if they didn't enjoy the story much, because they can help, and people DO, MOSTLY, like to help.

"i want to improve at [dialogue]" or "i'd appreciate advice on [lighting]." - similar to the first example, but does 2 things: gives viewers specific instructions that can be really helpful for those that aren't sure how/what to critique (surprisingly common thing; the more specific you are about what you want advice on, the more likely you are to GET advice), AND allows you to, neutrally and non-disparagingly, ask for help in areas you don't feel confident about.

"leave a comment if you liked it!" or "let me know what you liked best!" - listen. i don't think 'fishing for compliments' is bad as long as you're not being manipulative about it. these examples are very clear in what they're asking for, which is compliments, positive reviews, etc. and that's okay!!! first of all, lots of people LOVE praising works they like, i promise, and asking them to DOES make them feel like they have "permission" to (i know that sounds silly but i also know if you have anxiety about creating, you have anxiety about commenting, i see you, i was you). secondly, i have gotten the MOST encouraging, confidence-boosting comments this way, especially with the latter example. there is NOTHING more immediately anxiety-curing than a comment that says "i liked [scene/dialogue/character/etc] specifically." it's AMAZING. (also, if you're looking for advice on commenting, this is a GREAT thing to do. imo, this and "speculating/interpreting the work" are the two coolest comments i get they make me feel AWESOME.)

remind yourself, as many times as you have to, CONSTANTLY if you have to: likes/kudos mean someone enjoyed your work enough to press a button. views mean someone liked your work enough to click through for more. these are POSITIVE interactions, they are not "less positive" than comments or reblogs/reshares. i know those last two things are more obviously gratifying, and depending on if you NEED your work to spread (for exposure/commision prospects/etc), very good, awesome ways to support you, and i don't mean to say you shouldn't WANT comments and reblogs/reshares. but for me, it's helped me a lot to recognize that any bit of effort whatsoever means someone LIKED my work. it's also helped me to think of all the times i've shared a link to an artwork in a discord or something, and know that there is an entire, untangible metric i can't and will never see that, sure, i can choose to believe doesn't exist or isn't very high, but i can ALSO choose to believe it happens quite a lot, and the latter makes me FEEL better about my work and makes me want to create MORE, so i think that's the more productive mindset personally. it doesn't matter what the truth is, you know? we'll never know it and it doesn't harm us to never know it. but it DOES harm us to assume no one quietly, unseen by us, likes our work, and it DOES ENCOURAGE US to assume lots of people do.

here's the thing: anxiety disorders fuck you up by making you believe extremely negative, scary, depressing things. the disorder gets worse the more you allow it to make you believe these things, and the only way out, as stupid and hard and at times impossible as it feels, is to say, "no, i don't like that interpretation, i'm going to replace it with a positive one." anxiety is making paths all throughout your brain, and you have to just, make paths too. anxiety needs YOU to make paths, but YOU don't need anxiety to make paths. your paths WILL be better, safer, easier and happier. you just—and i know that is the biggest "just" ever—have to make them.

but i believe in you. i don't need to know you or your circumstances to believe in you. i believe in the sheer amount of control you have over how you face the world. and it's so much more than anxiety would lead you to believe.

i looooove seeing artists & writers proud of their work!!!!! i looooove captions & authors notes that say things like “i’m quite happy with this” “i love how this turned out” “i had so much fun making this”!!!!!! i loooooove when the act of creation is joyful & we take pride in what we make!!!!!!!!!!

[wileys-russo]

in the blink of an eye (5) II a.putellas

series masterlist in the blink of an eye (5) II a.putellas

"-it happened again? usted no es serio?" you laughed in disbelief, the empty takeout cups of your coffees empty and long finished on the table in front of you.

"de nuevo. they must have a whatsapp!" alexia joked awkwardly as you grinned, the sight sending a very strange feeling through the blondes stomach which she rapidly pushed down and away.

"her new girlfriend leaving her for her ex girlfriend, different girls but twice now. we are sure she does not just find all of these chicas in the same bar?" you joked back as alexia chuckled, lips curling with amusement.

"sí sí, está maldita!" alexia shook her head, picking at the piece of banana cake she'd insisted the two of you split since it looked so good but you'd both been so busy talking you'd barely had a second to get a bite in, the icing now a little hard and crumbly.

"alexia you cannot call your own hermana cursed!" you laughed a little louder, throwing your head back and missing the soft smile which curved into the features of the girl across from you who covered it up by placing a forkful of cake into her mouth.

"por qué? she is!" the catalan insisted as you playfully rolled your eyes and sliced off your own mouthful of cake. "alba is unlucky, not cursed." you chuckled, covering your mouth with your hand as you pushed the fork past your lips causing alexia to snicker.

"qué?" you frowned once you'd swallowed and she wordlessly shook her head, small smile still playing on her face as you quirked an eyebrow. "no, tell me." you urged, twirling the fork between your fingers as your ex chuckled.

"you still do the eh, the mouth thing, when you eat." the girl gestured to her lips as you looked on confused, cutting off more cake and once again holding your hand over your mouth as you shoveled it inside.

"eso!" the blonde laughed as you did, pointing her finger at you accusingly as you realized just what she was referring to, feeling your cheeks heat up a little.

"i cannot help it, blame my mami for always telling me i looked ugly when i eat!" you rolled your eyes, alexia worried for a moment she'd offended you before your upper lip quivered as you tried not to smile.

"well you did like to talk with your mouth full." alexia teased as your eyes widened and she felt you kick her lightly under the table, mumbling that she was a dirty liar under your breath as the blonde grinned and snaked another bite of cake.

"cómo está ella?" the midfielder asked, tone softening just slightly but as hard as she may have tried you couldn't miss the ever so subtle hint of pity behind her question, and knowing exactly what it was about.

"ella está bien. she still grieves, cries, mourns, she thinks she hides it well but..." you trailed off with a sad smile, one which alexia mirrored as she hummed to show she was listening, giving you her full attention.

"i think having posie around is sometimes difficult for her even if she will never say so. mariposa is a reminder of natalia in ways that can be so beautiful, but also so hard." you mused honestly, not really having had anyone to talk to this about for some time now.

"she is also getting older, and that shows in her body more than she wants to accept. it is also why she is not able to take posie full time, she struggles to pick her up and hold her with the arthritis." you added on, realizing you were rambling a little more than you intended and stiffening, clearing your throat.

"lo siento, no quería seguir. cómo está eli?" you asked swiftly, alexia's eyebrows knitting together into a frown. "you do not need to be sorry. we got a coffee to catch up, no? that means actually talking about things." the girl reminded firmly but not unkindly as you nodded, flashing her a smile.

"it is nice, talking." you spat out honestly, the words leaving your mouth faster than you could take them back as surprised flickered across the blondes face but she was quick to mask it.

"sí, gracias por preguntarme." the older girl smiled sincerely, both of you mumbling a thank you to the waitress who collected your empty cups and plate, both of you praising how good they were.

"that cake was not as perfect as your mami's, but still it was good. i missed barcelona!" you sighed quickly diverting topics before an uncomfortable silence could build at all.

"i missed you." alexia spoke without thinking, her cheeks blushing pink as she realised her words and was quick to sit up a little straighter. "it missed you, barcelona, i am sure it missed you." she was fast to correct herself, both of you knowing that was not what she meant but alexia was grateful you chose to move on to save her any further embarassment.

and without her little slip up, the next question may not have tumbled out of your mouth quite so loosely.

"would you like to come over for dinner? to meet posie properly." you asked quickly, hesitating for a moment if you should retract the invitation, doubt swirling angrily through your head as you fiddled nervously with your fingers in your lap, hands well hidden beneath the table.

"i do not know if-" you didn't even let her fiinsh before humiliation and regret washed over you and you interrupted. "lo siento, eso fue una idea terrible." you apologised, stammering a little and alexia jolted as you stood clearly about to leave.

"oye oye! no no no, please sit." alexia stood as well, gesturing for you to sit down as you paused but none the less slowly lowered yourself back into your chair and she did the same.

"if you let me finish, i do not know if i can tonight. but i would like to, really, if you are okay with it?" alexia now hesitated, playing with the hem of her shorts as she awaited your reponse.

"sí, si está seguro." you echoed her question as you both exchanged a somewhat awkward smile. "sí, two friends having dinner." alexia confired with a curt nod.

"si, two friends who almost got married." you blurted out, hand smacking over your mouth once you had and cursing yourself over and over in your head.

"oh dios mío alexia, estoy-" you started, stopping abruptly when much to your surprise a belt of laughter left her mouth instead, the blonde locking eyes with you as your lip twitched and before either of you could help it the air was filled with your amusement.

"too soon?" you finally managed to get out once the pair of you had calmed yourselves, earning a few dirty looks from other cafe goers on the tables around you at both of your boisterous outbursts.

"sí, for some, not for us." alexia assured as you both exchanged a shy smile, looking away from one another and taking a beat. "so maybe uh, friday? for dinner." alexia asked, clearing her throat as you nodded.

"sí, friday."

~

"-pink tía?" posie questioned, balanced on her knees as your arm lay in front of her like a canvas, none of her coloring books peaking her interest today and to save yourself a tantrum you'd just given in and offered your arm up as an alternative.

"mm pink is nice nena." you mumbled tiredly, having only just gotten home from work and hardly sleeping last night since posie had been wriggling and kicking until eventually she seemed to find comfort draped across your head, the hot evening air not helping.

you tried hard not to let it happen, but without meaning to and with the rhythmic humming of your niece paired with the scratchings of the marker against your arm and you must have dozed off.

a sharp knock at the door jolted you back awak, sitting up so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, wincing at the sharp bolt of pain which shot through your neck as you did.

"mierda!" you cursed when you realised you were alone now, the three year old who had once been curled into your side nowhere to be seen as a few more loud knocks echoed through your apartment.

"posie? dónde estás? mariposa? posie!" you shouted, rushing through the house and sighing in relief when you finally found her in the kitchen, but that relief dissapeared and the air sucked from your lungs as if you'd been kicked in the chest by a horse.

"mariposa baja eso ahora mismo!" you shouted, sprinting over and scooping up your niece who somehow had wound up with a steak knife in hand, one of the drawers pulled out and cutlery scattered all over the floor.

she hadn't thought she was doing anything wrong but your stern reaction had the girls eyes welling up in tears and before you knew it she was full on sobbing as you carefully pried the knife from her hands, setting it down on the counter.

"hey hey hey no bebita do not cry! i am not mad at you promesa promesa. i am not mad at you, i love you posie. you just scared me a little that's all! siento haberte gritado." you cooed softly, stepping over the cuterly spill and bouncing her gently up and down on your hip, feeling her tears create a small wet patch on your shoulder.

a glance back had you wincing, you thought you'd done a good enough job at baby proofing since you made all the changes ana required but clearly you needed to make a further effort if a three year old could get a knife in her possession so easily.

the guilt of it all washed over you like a shower would, your eyes squeezed shut for a moment to stop the tears which threatened to leak out, inhaling sharply and composing yourself.

how could you be expected to calm a wailing three year old if you couldn't even keep it together?

but right as posie's sobs started to melt down into wet sniffles, there came the knocking again and off she went, causing you to wince and your blood to run hot as you continued to mumble gently to her, rubbing your hand up and down her back.

right as you touched the door handle the knocking sounded again but thankfully this time posie just continued to sniffle and you cringed at how much snot and tears were crusting on the collar of your shirt.

as you yanked the door open and began to speak someone beat you to it with a click of their tongue. "so you are alive? you can tell your ex that you are back but not even call me after i-" mapi's words fell short as she took you in, disheveled, half asleep and with a sniffling toddler on your hip.

"not a good time maría." you replied curtly as the shock was still engrained in her features you weren't even sure if she'd heard what you said, too fixated on posie who was hiding herself in your neck as you protectively shifted so she was as out of sight as possible.

you were overwhelmed, overstimulated and quite frankly as much as you held no ill will toward the spaniard hers was one of the last faces you wanted to see right now.

"but-but who is-where did-" mapi began to stammer, eyebrows furrowed together with confusion as you sighed, utterly exhausted despite the fact it was barely past midday.

"lo siento, i will call you." you softened your tone slightly but before the tattooed defender could utter another syllable you were closing the door again, back thumping against it as you exhaled slowly and shakily.

"ven aquí nena, let us get cleaned up eh?"

~

once you'd gotten posie cleaned up, calmed down and settled in front of one of her cartoons you could breathe again, smiling at the way her eyes drooped despite the fight she'd put up that she wasn't tired.

you let out a chuckle and swooped in to grab the little container of cut up peaches out of her hand as you watched her eyes close and her grip loosen, setting it on the coffee table and smoothing her hair out, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead and tucking her bear under her arm.

you'd sat her on the counter and as calmly as possible explained knife safety best you could to a three year old, who adorably had explained she was trying to make you a snack after your nap, just like you did for her.

once again you had to stop yourself from crying knowing that wasn't what your niece needed, instead wrapping her in a tight hug and murmuring how much you loved her, unable to tell the tiny human just how much you needed her as well.

with posie down for her afternoon nap and still under your now hawk eyed supervision it allowed you to flutter about tidying, determined to make a better impression on your ex girlfriend than when she'd last visited your home.

you cursed under your breath as you finished and checked the time, two and a half hours somehow flying past as you needed to get posie up as well as start dinner so it was mostly done by the time alexia was set to arrive.

only you knew the girl well enough that for alexia early was on time, on time was late and late was unforgivable.

so you weren't caught off guard at a knock at the door sounding twenty minutes early, already having seen her car park ten minutes prior and checking in amusement every few minutes to see if she'd left it yet.

a quick check in on posie and you found her on the floor of her room playing with a few of her stuffed animals, another check confirming there wasn't anything she could swallow, choke on or hurt herself with before you ducked out and headed for the door.

"hola." you greeted the girl with a smile, not missing the obvious nervous tension in her shoulders as she repeated the greeting and you stepped aside to let her in.

"it is uh, cleaner, than last time." you chuckled a little awkwardly, closing the door after her as she looked around. "don't do that, people live here, of course it will looked lived in." alexia assured with a nod as you squeezed her arm appreciatively, stepping past her as she slipped off her shoes.

"oh! for you." she seemed to remember her hands weren't empty, holding up a bottle of wine, the label sparking memories that hadn't hurtled to the surface in years, a laugh of surprise leaving your lips.

"i know it is cheap but-" "but it is my favorite. i have not seen it in years!" you grinned happily, alexia seeming a little relaxed now as her lips curled upward, clearly content with your reaction.

"tía?"

and just like that any and all sense of calm alexia once felt was sucked away in an instant, the tiny brunette peeking out of the bedroom looking her up and down as you moved to stand beside her.

"remember i said one of my friends was coming over for dinner posie? well, this is alexia." you squatted down, nodding encouragingly to your niece who curled herself into your side.

"oye who is this shy chica? where is my posie mm? mi pequeño parlanchín." you teased, poking your fingers into her side as she giggled and alexia suddenly felt her knees go weak at the sight, clearing her throat lightly trying to pull herself out of it.

"tía i'm here!" your niece squealed, wriggling out of your hold as you grinned and poked her a few more times until she looked up at alexia again and shuffled closer to you.

alexia suddenly realizing she was a lot taller than a three year old immediately squatted down to seem a little less intimidating as you flashed her a soft smile, whispering something to your niece who nodded.

you stood again and offered her your hand, her tiny fingers wrapping around yours as you lead her over to where alexia was. "me llamo mariposa." the small girl spoke shyly before ducking to hide behind your leg as alexia glanced up at you and you nodded encouragingly.

"encantada de conocerte mariposa, me llamo alexia." the footballer introduced herself softly, holding out a hand as you had to stifle your laughter at the sheer size difference between hers and your nieces as posie slowly shook her hand.

"did you know the name mariposa means butterfly?" alexia smiled as posie seemed to perk up a little more, stepping out properly from behind you.

"sí! i have butterfly wings, from abuela." posie nodded eagerly as alexia gasped. "muy chulo." the blonde smiled as posie seemed to regain her confidence. "i show you after dinner?" posie offered as alexia instantly agreed and your smile grew even wider watching their interactions.

your niece letting go of your hand stepped forward now with a slight frown, alexia tensing up again as a tiny finger traced her cheeks. "mami and papi's video." the three year old spoke as you now frowned, squatting down and gently pulling her hand away from where her fingers continued to prod softly at alexia's face.

"bebita we already watched mami and papi's video this morning before you went to abuelas, remember?" you started gently, knowing the topic was an incredibly touchy one as the small girl shook her head.

"see you, in mami and papi's video!" posie pointed to alexia and looked to you expectantly, but before you could say a word she was taking off, racing away as tiny footsteps thumped through the house.

you took off after her and alexia was quick to follow, finding her in the living room with the remote in hand which she shoved at you, babbling away to press play on the video and ignoring anything you said in response.

alexia stumbled a little as posie tugged on the hem of her shorts, clearly trying to drag the much taller girl toward the couch as she sat down, posie climbing herself up to join her as with a sigh you gave in and clicked play.

you took a seat on posie's other side and for the first few minutes the three of you sat in a somewhat uncomfortable silence, though right as you were ready to attempt to put your foot down and turn it back off, it happened.

"mira! mira, mira, mira! alexia!" your niece stood to her feet, clinging onto alexia's shirt to steady herself as she pointed to the tv and sure enough, there she was, and a tidal wave of emotions overcame you and suddenly it was as if you could still remember the very day.

"estás muy guapa." the brunette hummed in your ear as you returned from the dance floor, settling yourself down on her lap as her arms tightly encircled your waist.

"muy muy muy preciosa, mi preciosa novia." your girlfriend showered you with compliments as you leaned back into her, your head craning backwards to rest on her shoulder.

"deberías ver a mi novia." you smiled teasingly, the older girl leaning down to press her lips sweetly against yours. "mmm, i hope she can fight?" the footballer whispered mid kiss as you laughed, hands finding her cheeks and deepening it slightly.

you were both pulled from your little love bubble at the sound of wolf whistles, your very drunk sister waving at you from the dancefloor as her newly elected husband caught her before she fell, sending you a knowing wink as he whisked her away.

"do you want to get some air?" you asked, pushing back up off of alexia who nodded, joining you as you stood, her fingers interlocking with yours as the pair of you made small talk with a few people on your way out.

you exhaled into the crisp night air, closing your eyes and soaking in the fact the pair of you were finally alone, ears ringing from the sheer contrast of how quiet it was out here compared to how loud the music was thumping inside.

"this could be us one day cari." you were consumed by the scent of your girlfriends perfume, turning at the sound of her voice and moving to wrap your arms around her torso.

"too drunk to walk?" you teased with a grin, your sister having been far from sober out of nerves nearly all day, quite the anxious bride from the moment she'd been proposed to.

"tal vez, we could be married mi amor." alexia was too tipsy to notice the way your body tensed up in her arms, playing it off with a laugh and hoping she would change topics.

"is that something you want?" no such luck.

"i have had too much tequila mi amor, i think i want to go back to our room soon." you looked up with a smile, reaching up to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear and not missing the odd look which flashed across the older girls face.

but before she could say another word the two of you were once again pulled from your little bubble at the sound of loud retching, letting go of one another and spinning around.

"oh dios mío....is that my mami?" you groaned in realization at the woman hunched over, throwing her guts up into the flower beds. "who is holding her hair?" you questioned with a frown, squinting to try and work it out but your girlfriend clocked it first.

"dios mío i think that is my mami!"

"tía? tía?" you crashed back down to the ground as a hand touched your cheek, blinking a few times and meeting your nieces little gaze which looked up at you.

"mira! alexia." she tugged on the sleeve of your shirt, pointing to the tv where again there was another clip of a much younger alexia spinning you around on the dancefloor, a quick glance to your right showing the girl in question watching the tv avidly with an unreadable look on her face.

thankfully it seemed someone somewhere had your best intentions in mind as the oven pinged signalling the timer was done and you breathed a sigh of relief you hadn't realized you'd been holding in.

"vamos! time to eat."

you stood with a soft tender smile on your face as you packed up the leftovers from dinner, posie twirling around the living room after she'd made you and alexia push the couch and coffee table out of the way.

she had her little butterfly wings on and you had to stop yourself from laughing aloud at alexia's own wings, which were two little blobs of purple and orange vaguely resembling tacos which posie had drawn and insisted be taped to alexia's back.

you'd tried to talk her out of it but much of your sister was in her daughter, especially natalia’s often hard headed stubborn tendencies as of course alexia assured it was fine and you'd given in, somewhat relieved you’d manage to avoid any sort of meltdown or tantrum.

it seemed posie was trying to teach her a dance of some sort and you had to hide a snicker into your hand as the footballer awkwardly tried to copy her movements, rigid and stiff and you'd always teased her that she danced with two left feet.

placing the last container in the fridge you had to interrupt, a glance at your phone showing it was nearing posie's bedtime and she still hadn't even had a bath yet.

"vale! beautiful dancing chicas, but i think it is time for a certain little butterfly to have her bath." you smiled as alexia exhaled in relief, dropping her arms from the position posie had insisted they be in, rolling her shoulders with a slight wince as you bit your lip to hide your smile.

"five more." you felt a small body hurtle into your leg nearly knocking you down as you chuckled and brushed her flyaways away from her forehead which was prickled with sweat from her dancing.

"no nena, bath and bed, or else you will be a grumpy butterfly tomorrow." you honked her nose gently as the three year old huffed, scowling and making a point to stomp her tiny feet all the way to her bedroom.

alexia jumped hearing the door slam and you chuckled with a shake of her head. "who says it is only teenagers who have attitude? mentirosa." you tutted as alexia's face softened, a snicker sounding from you as she tried to awkwardly crane her arms to pull off the paper wings.

"aquí, date la vuelta." you nodded for her to turn around as you carefully peeled off the paper, brushing a few loose pieces of fluff off of alexia's t-shirt and tapping her shoulders gently to signal you were done.

"tía! stuck again!" you heard posie holler out from her room, alexia now the one to chuckle as you explained your niece had a habit of somehow winding up tangled in her clothes when left to pull them off of her body herself.

"i should go..." you trailed off and nodded behind you with a small smile. "i should go too." alexia was swift to reply as you swallowed your disappointment at her words.

"or i stay? help with the uh dishes and to move things back?" she quickly offered, rubbing the back of her neck with a signature awkward smile. "oh no you do not need to help with those!" you assured as posie yelled out for you again.

"but if you want to stay, i will not be long?" "bien, but i am doing the dishes." "do i have a choice?" you began to walk backwards with a smile as alexia grinned and shook her head.

"tía ayuda! stuck!"

[cry4mina]

Jealousy

(Sana x fem!reader)

Word Count: 6.7k

Smut/Play angst/Fluff

Summary: You have a friend from college that is coming to visit and is very affectionate with you. Sana doesn't like that and retaliates before taking this "issue" into her own hands.

TW: THIS IS JUST FUCKING WITH A HINT OF BACK STORY. drinking, food, eating, sex, oral, strap ons, jealousy, degrading, top sanaaaaaaaaa, choking, hand cuffs, just a whole brain rot moment. Let me know if I missed anything.

AN: Hey hi hellooooo! (I BARELY PROOF READ THIS PLS FORGIVE) I feel so out of practice with writing! I had the brain rot and needed to do the thing. I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you to @ghostykapi for always helping me get plot points down like girl what would I do without you and for @psylocke142 and @sscieloz because the three of you constantly keep me sane while I'm losing it when brain does not work LMAO

Please enjoy and drink some water today! Ask are always open and feedback is always welcome! :)🖤

“You don’t need to be nervous, babe. She’s going to love you!” reassuring your wife sitting next to you in the booth of your favorite cafe.

Nayeon, your best friend from college/roommate at the time was in town and wanted to visit and catch up with you - and meet your wife, Sana. You couldn’t be more excited for them to finally make acquaintance after years of talking both of them up to each other.

“I know, I know but I just know how much she means to you and I want to make a good impression, you know?” puppy dog eyes looking up at you, melting you as always.

Sana looked stunning today, wearing a lavender cardigan and a white tank top underneath with some light washed oversized jeans paired with white sneakers. Her hair is long and framing her face so perfectly, with a lavender bow in her hair.

Looking so sweet and kind, glowing in her seat while making eye contact with you. You’re so in love with her, a masterpiece come to life - moving ethereally and making beautiful waves that crash happiness and warmth into the depths of your soul.

Submerging you completely into Minatozaki Sana.

“And you will, my love.” slipping your hand into hers, toying with the ring that was the product of the love built between the two of you.

“You’re sure?” looking down at your hands intertwined, watching as your hands fiddle with the gold band and then back up at your eyes that were filled with pure admiration.

“Never been more sure about anything.” beamed back at her.

It was true, asking her to marry you was the best decision you had ever made and you would do it a million times over, in every single life.

Sana’s cheeks flush red, bringing the hand that wasn’t intertwined with yours under the table up to cover her own smile, sheepishly trying to not get flustered with the way you still flirted with her, even after years of being together.

“Hello! My name is Michael. Can I start you off with some drinks?” the waiter must have snuck up to the table while you were wrapped in each other.

“I’ll have a sweet tea, please.” looking over to Sana who is still trying to compose herself.

“And she will have a hot green tea with honey, thank you.”

“Ma’am?” looking over to Sana.

The waiter seems to be completely ignoring what you said your wife wants…Cocking your head and furrowing your brows, you tilt your head up to look at him.

“I’d like what she said I wanted, thanks.” confusion laces her voice as the waiter sighs with a smile at the sound of her voice and walks to gather your drinks.

“What the fuck is that about?” back tensing in anger, staring daggers at the man who just flirted with your wife.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” a cold finger catches your chin and leads you to look right into her eyes, inching her face closer and closer to you.

“Nothing to worry about, baby.” voice squeaking with pure happiness at your jealousy as she places her lips on yours, sending you into a whirl wind.

“I’m all yours…forever, remember?” lifting her hand out of yours to flash you the ring and wink.

It takes everything in you to not sink to the floor, you never should’ve taught her how to wink. It’s going to be the death of you and you’re already so weak to her touch that a wink on top of it could send you into a spiral of thoughts of love, and some others that are lust driven.

“Y/n?!” shouted from the front of the cafe, the voice is familiar that can only mean one thing.

“Oop! There she is!” standing up to spot her.

Seeing her and trying to catch Nayeon’s attention and wave her to the table.

Nayeon was wearing a very small crop top, showing off her stomach, and a very small pair of shorts. Very revealing, which doesn’t surprise you. She was always comfortable in her s

“You’re late!” is how you decided to her her attention.

Squealing at the sight of you, you open your arms for Nayeon to practically tackle you to the floor.

“I missed you so much Y/nnie! Look at you! You’re glowing. Ugh I just know that Sana is taking SUCH good care of you. And this, is your color.” grabbing your face and kissing your cheeks obnoxiously with a loud smack to each side, before tugging on the royal blue sweater you were currently wearing and pointing down to the shoes that matched it.

“I miss you too, Nay! I promise you she is and thank you!” bringing her in for another tight hug before letting go, Nayeon’s hand trailed down your arm and stopped in your hand, linking your fingers together.

Head turning start your introductions to one another and you realize that you might’ve forgotten to tell Sana that Nayeon is very physically affectionate…and that it meant nothing…oops.

Your wife’s jaw is on the floor, eyes wide and you can see the annoyance simmering underneath the shocked expression on her face.

“Nayeon! This is my wife, Sana.” throwing the word “wife” in, hoping that it would calm Sana enough to get through lunch so you could explain yourself later.

Already knowing that this was going to be a big conversation tonight.

“Oh my goodness! You’re stunning!” Nayeon let go of your hand and brought them up to grab Sana’s, pulling her out of her chair.

“It’s so so so lovely to meet you! I’ve heard so many wonderful things!” Joyfully offered to your wife as Nayeon wrapped her arms around her.

“Likewise!” Sana’s voice is chipper but the glare she’s giving you from over Nayeon’s shoulder is the exact opposite.

“Shit.” stated under your breath, as Nayeon and Sana part ways to create more small talk between the two of them, everyone taking their seats to get brunch started.

Sana and you take your place on the side of the table you were already on, Nayeon sitting across from you in the booth as your wife and bestfriend slip from small talk into questions about each other.

Both of them seem comfortable, this is great.

A jealous Sana was sexy, the way anger flared behind her eyes never failed to get you wet, even though it was usually not the time for it. Not willing to let this become a situation of jealousy because it’s Nayeon…if it was a stranger, sure but you want these two to get along.

Maybe Sana would get to know Nayeon and realize that the affection wasn’t something that meant anything at all.

Maybe she’s already forgotten.

The waiter walks back over and places your drinks down on the table, only addressing Sana in the process.

“Here you are, Ma’am.” his hands are slightly shaky as he placed the drink down.

“Thank you, sweet heart.” winking at him seductively.

…she had not forgotten…

You were regretting teaching her to wink even more so, as watched as the waiter’s thoughts leave his mind, swearing you could see his heart beat in his neck.

“uh…uhm...N-no p-p-problem, m-ma’am.” tugging at his collar to relieve some of the pressure Sana just placed on him.

Nudging her with your elbow, the look you’re giving her sliced through all the tension of this and was now turning into something she saw as a game.

Pawn move, your turn.

Nayeon is taking all of this in, without interrupting the show unfolding, leaning back in her seat and cocking an eyebrow. Does she realize what’s actually happening here or does she think that Sana is insane?

“I’ll take an iced americano, thank you.” to the panicked man, giving him the exit he seemed to crave so desperately.

“Right away, ma’am!” rushing off behind the doors to the kitchen, you swear you can hear his sigh of relief when he steps out of sight.

“So how is Jeongyeon? How are things?” inquiring so you can distract for what she was witnessing.

“She’s great! She’s back home with Dahyun. They just opened a coffee shop so they’ve been busy bodies with that.” smiling in pride of what her wife and best friend were doing.

“No way! After all these years of wanting to? I’m so happy to hear they’ve finally done it!” returning the sentiment back to her with excitement.

“And Dahyun is still rooming with you both, I assume?”

“Our perfect third wheel!” both of you burst into a giggle, Sana watches how close the two of you are.

You can feel her energy shift into possessive and jealous, more tense by the second as you continue on with brunch.

Nayeon reaches her hand over the table to grab yours, genuinely smiling at you as she prepares to say something.

Sana is seething next to you and you can already tell what she’s going to do about it.

“It’s truly so great to see you, I’m so happy they called a meeting here so we could get together and I could meet Sana too!” the warmth and friendship radiating off the sentence went right over Sana’s head as she laid her hand on your thigh, digging her nails right into the denim of your black jeans.

The waiter, Michael, comes back over with Nayeon’s iced americano and places it on the table.

“Do you need some more time to look over the menu? Or have any questions?” the poor boy is shaken to his core, and it’s about to get so much worse.

“What’s your favorite thing on the menu, honey?” Sana says without looking up at him.

“Oh, you know I love the ba-” you start.

“Not you.” putting her hand up to halt you, mid sentence.

“Michael.” looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes and a smile.

You swear you can physically see his knees turn to jelly.

“Uhm…well I r-really like the pancakes, ma’am.”

Rolling your eyes in disbelief, you wait for her response, making eye contact with Nayeon and communicating with her silently as all of this transpired.

“Pancakes it is then.” putting on her sweetest voice possible before handing him the menu and intentionally touching his hand.

“Wow, your hands are so strong…” caressing the top of one of them before pulling back.

“I wonder how useful those could be…”

“Sana! Enough!” the rage set in with you snapping at her, she had pushed this too far and she knows it.

“Oh, come on. It’s all in good fun, right?” kissing your cheek and then winking at him again.

“Right, Sweet heart?” referring to Michael again.

Staring at her in disbelief, your jaw tightens as you look back at Nayeon who is holding in her laughter, flushing red from the suppression.

“And no laughing out of you!” pointing to her across the table, her arms shoot up to claim her innocence.

“I’m just here to visit a friend! I swear!” chuckling through the sentence and bringing an ease to the table.

“A friend…right…” Sana seems to not believe but laughs along anyway.

Nayeon managed to cut the tension like she always did with a silly moment and for that you were grateful.

—

Over the course of this brunch, you had lovely conversations that everyone was involved in. Nayeon and Sana got along really well, despite the introduction, enjoying a lot of the same things and having lengthy conversations about many different topics.

“How long are you in town for?” Sana asked before taking a sip of her drink.

“I fly home tomorrow night, unfortunately.” sighing and knowing that the visit would be short lived.

“That’s too soon.” quipped back with a frown.

A sudden sparkle behind her eyes and the twitch of her brow shows you that she’s up to something.

“Where are you staying?” expeditiously inquired through a new tone of excitement.

“Well, this trip was very last minute so I’m hoping I can get a hotel down town by the airport. If anything, I can just sleep in the rental car and head to the airport tomorrow afternoon.”

“Nonsense! You’ll stay with us!” This surprised both you and Nayeon.

Sana offering Nayeon to stay at your home was a very big deal. You both really liked your privacy and for her to extend that invitation was...not like her.

“I wouldn’t want to impose!” Nayeon is dismissive of the thought, looking over to you for some hint that this would be okay.

Nodding to her very softly, you agree.

“I insist, Nayeon! I can’t have my wife’s best friend sleeping in discomfort when we have a perfectly good guest room for you to stay in.” Sana’s hand reaches out over the table to grab Nayeon’s, reassuring her that all was well.

“Alright, I’ll stay.”

“Great! I’ll get the check.”

The waiter must’ve been listening as he was immediately when he heard Sana wanted something. Nayeon let out a belly laugh when she saw how quickly he was present, and you rolled your eyes.

Reaching out to hold your hand, Nayeon decides to move a pawn on the gameboard.

“Y/nnie, did you ever tell Sana about what we used to do?” the flirtatious tone perks up Sana’s ears, the scowl on her face already gently forming around her squinted eyes.

“Nayeon, what are you talking about?” trying to brush off what Nayeon was hinting at so Sana wouldn’t get upset.

“What did you guys used to do?” attempting to keep cool about the new information that just dropped onto the table like an anvil.

“If Y/nnie doesn’t remember, I don’t think I should say, besides…I don’t know if you’d be too excited about hearing it anyways. Just a very fond memory to live in my mind then.”

Nayeon winks at Sana and then stands up.

“See you at your house!” swiftly walking out of the cafe.

—

The walk to the car was silent.

Only the sounds of your shoes against the concrete.

Walking around to the passenger seat, you open the door for Sana and wait for her to get inside. She’s just standing by the car and clenching her jaw, you can see the muscles flexing causing you to swallow harshly - nerves tingling as you walk around to the driver’s side door.

Sana suddenly slams the door closed without getting inside before promptly opening it again, for herself, and gets into her seat, closing the door behind her.

Blinking a few times at how petty that actually was, you slip into the drivers seat and start the car.

The first 5 minutes of driving are just as quiet as the walk to the car, Sana’s stewing in her jealousy next to you and you’re just waiting for her to say something.

Slowing down and stopping at a red light, you look at the road in front of you until you feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“What did you guys used to do?” sneered at you in disgust.

“We used to smoke weed and sit on a couch, babe. A few concerts, a couple parties but nothing that warrants this reaction.” trying to reassure her that there was no threat from Nayeon.

“Sounds like there might be more. Tell me.” her stern tone rattles you to your core…causing that flash of heat under your skin that screams in desire.

“I mean we hooked up once a long long time ago. But it was one time, and it never happened again.”

“You WHAT!?”

Uh oh.

“You guys had sex?!”

“Baby, we were 18 and young. Probably drunk. It only happened one time. I didn’t think it was that important.” trying to explain but she did not want to hear it.

At. All.

“No wonders she’s so fucking affectionate with you! She probably still wants to fuck you. What the fuck, why wouldn’t you tell me this?!” through clenched teeth and she crosses her arms and shifts away from you.

“Sana, it meant nothing then and it means even less now. I love you. I want to be with you. This was a long time ago, okay?”

Silence.

“Sana.”

More silence.

“Sana!” rising in volume to get her attention.

“Okay, fine. Whatever.” waving her hand at you, the weak signal that she would be fine about this.

“Sana, Nayeon is my best friend…okay? That’s all. You are my wife. I married YOU. Not her.” reassurance making it’s way to her as you try and defuse.

“I trust you. She’s your best friend…I’ll be on my best behavior.” rolling her eyes and sighing next to you.

A fight given up a little too easily…knowing her, she was planning something else.

This was going to be a long night, wasn’t it?

—

Dinner came and went as quickly as brunch did. Spending the night lounging around the house and watching movies with Nayeon and Sana was such a good way to spend the evening - despite the argument in the car earlier.

It seems like they’re getting along very well, giggling with each other and nonstop chatting. It seems Sana is getting comfortable and actually trying to get to know your best friend.

That warms your heart more than anything. She was really willing to put her jealousy aside for you…it’s impossible to not love her more and more every single day.

Nayeon and Sana decided they wanted to watch a movie, so you let them pick while you went and got some snacks from the kitchen.

Returning to find them on the couch whispering to each other, you decided to just sit on the other side of Sana and let them press play when they were ready.

They picked a weird comedy you had never heard of, you decided to just scroll through your phone while the movie played on.

—

Around 10pm, Sana stretched and yawned, leaning into your neck and sighing into you. Toying with the end of your shirt lightly and scooting closer to you.

“You getting sleepy, my love?” leaning your cheek against her forehead and wrapping your arms around her.

All she could do was nod her head softly and nuzzle into you further.

“Why don’t you go and get ready for bed? I’ll show Nayeon where she will be sleeping and meet you in there, okay?”

“Okay. Goodnight Nayeon. Thank you for today!” standing up, giving Nayeon a hug and sluggishly making her way to the bedroom you shared and closing the door behind her.

“She’s a tough one, huh? I never thought I’d see you go for someone jealous…especially with how jealous you get!” Nayeon nudged you as you both stood up and you made your way down the hall to the guest bedroom.

“I wouldn’t say though! She’s just not used to people being touchy with me. She likes a little jealousy…and I mean, you know I like possessive. Even if this round was a little intense. I’m really happy you both got to know each other better so we can do this more often” smiling at Nayeon.

“You both are a match made in heaven. I’m really happy for you, Y/nnie. She’s lovely. Good luck later!” booping your nose lightly and turning to go into the room.

“What does tha-…You know what, I dont want to know…goodnight.” dismissively waving your hand at her while closing the door shut. Her laugh can be heard from the other side of it.

Walking back to your own room, you can’t help but wonder what that meant…good luck? with what? Maybe it was just her trying to psych you out…

Trying to be quiet as you enter, you don’t see Sana on her side of the bed, assuming she’s still in the bathroom, you strip out of the clothes you spent your day in and changed into just a large T-shirt.

The bathroom door opens up softly while you’re bringing your clothes across the room to put in the laundry basket, not bothering to look up, you toss the clothes in the vessel and turn around to crawl into your side of the bed.

That’s when you finally register what is happening in front of you.

Sana has changed into her red, lacey night gown…the one that’s completely see through…the one she knows you can’t resist.

Trying not to drool at the sight of her and how sensual she is in her movements, the way her hips sway and the way she’s looking you up and down like you’re prey to her.

Taking a few steps closer to you, she watches as you stand there in total shock - ready to drop to your knees for her.

“I think I need to remind you what it means to be my wife.” sultry, sexy tone dripping off her tongue, melting through your brain - the ache for her very present between your legs.

“I think you need a reminder of who you belong to…” the sentence lingers in your mind as she makes her way over to you slowly.

Fuck.

She’s playing hard ball with you, wanting you to submit to her immediately…and you’re tempted. It’s hard not to be when she’s like this.

Usually so soft and sweet, but when that bedroom door closes, she’s in charge and you didn’t feel like giving her that power that easily, even if you knew you’d end up sore tomorrow.

“I need to be reminded? Ha! You must not remember what you did.” flipping the script on her, crossing your arms while you wait for your reply.

The devilish smirk translucently sits across her mouth for a moment, before dissolving seamlessly into the start of something that would haunt you all night long.

The game has begun.

“What I did?!” raising her voice at you and taking a defensive stance.

“After what YOU did with your little friend! And in front of me, no less!” Scoffing and crossing her arms at the memory.

Hesitating to say anything, you try and think of a how you want to navigate this. It’s obvious how this is going to end, considering the red lace that’s barely covering her body when the idea pops into your head.

Pawn moved.

“It’s cute when you’re like this” slowly walking up to her and placing your hands on her hips and leaning into her chest, lips mere inches apart.

“Whatever.” Arms still crossed under your chests pressed together as she fights to not wrap her arms around you.

“Awh come on, my jealous baby. You know it’s only you.” Trailing a finger up her side and watching as she swallows harshly, breath hitching as she mimics your movements.

As her hands glide up your sides, the tips of her fingers graze lightly over your skin and lift the over size shirt with them - revealing what was underneath.

Nothing.

Sana lets out a short laugh when she sees your bare ass, smacking it loudly and leaning forward into you with a hand slithered up the back of your neck and through your hair.

Check.

“And who says that you’ll get what you want from me? You think being a slut for others gets you rewarded?” rebutted in a whisper with her lips brushing past yours so delicately.

Pawn moved.

Hands coasting up her back and into her hair that’s tied into a bun, you kiss up her cheek and right to her ear.

“If you won’t, I know someone who will.” another peck to her cheek.

Check. Mate.

“Someone in the next room…she’s done it before. You’ve seen her hands, right baby? Can’t you just imagine how fu-”

Sana suddenly lets go of you. Shoving you, hard, onto the bed.

“Don’t fucking move. You’re going to regret what you said but any disobedience going forward will only result in worse. Do you understand me, whore?” the mood is rage scorched, scowling down at you as you nod your head one time before she sets off to the closet.

She pulls out the box, grabs her strap - the larger one - slipping it on and tightening the sides so it fits tightly. What surprises you is when she reaches back into the box and pulls out some hard metal handcuffs you rarely ever used.

“You think you can just talk about someone else fucking you and get away with it, bitch?” walking up to you, twirling her finger around in front of her, signaling you to turn over onto your stomach.

“Hands behind you.” her stern voice is making you dizzy, unable to actually register what she’s actually saying.

“Now!”

A hard smack to your lower thighs startles you, the sting is delicious but you listen to what she says and put your hands behind your back.

The metal is cold against your wrists, wiggling to see how tight they were. There wasn’t much room to move at all.

Running your fingers against the metal to find the loose bolt that usually releases the sex cuffs, you can’t find one that rattles against your fingers.

“Awh…you thought I’d use the fake ones on you?”

Oh, shit.

Sana pulls you to the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor and torso bent over the sheets. Taking the head of the strap, she runs it up and down your slit in a very unhurried fashion.

“Look how wet you are.” slapping the end of the dildo on your clit a few times just to hear it splatter against you.

“Did you get wet like this for her too?” gliding back over your slit this time dipping between your lips and grinding against your clit.

A gasp leaves your lips at the sensation, the burst of pleasure that sent shockwaves through you.

“Answer me, slut.” she’s leaned over your back and in your ear, grinding softly against you.

Holding you down by the chain with one hand, the other slips up to your neck, holding your throat to force you to keep your head up.

“Why don’t you…fuck- ask her?” whined out between the sluggish strokes of Sana’s strap.

Immediately coming to a halt when what you said registers in her mind, she grips your throat tighter, you can feel her tensing her body.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?!” growled as she lifts herself off of you.

Rabid, feral and unhinged, Sana can’t seem to get a grip on herself. Taking the chain of the cuffs in her hand and tugging hard, she flips you over on your back. Lost in lust and rage, she grips the collar of the thin oversized shirt you were wearing and rips it clean down the middle in one harsh tug.

You’re lost in your own neediness as you start to drip onto the floor, waiting for Sana to make her move and put you in your place.

Watching as she stands before you, strap brushing up against your core while her hands are clenched into fists next to her.

You swear you can see the steam spewing from her ears and her jaw clenching. Nudging her hips forward, the sensation of the strap against you pushes you closer and closer to begging for her and you know that’s exactly what she wants.

Sana’s hand flies down and smacks your thigh, the sound is brutal but the pain is something you crave.

“I said, what the fuck did you just say?”

You’re melting, slipping into the mindset of wanting.

Wanting her.

Craving her.

“Baby” huffed out through the tension of the room.

“Please”

“Please, what?” leaning forward, her finger comes up to your collar bone and traces it down, feather light touches right over your nipple and slipping to your hips.

Her lips follow from your neck down to your nipple, brushing past her lips barely touching your skin as she descended.

“Sana, please…I need to feel you.” breathing becoming heavier as her mouth travels down to your hips, biting down when she’s low enough to cause the reaction she wants.

Bucking your hips forward, instinctual reaction from your body- her hand raises and smacks your tit. Moaning into the empty space in the room as Sana kisses her way down to your slick smeared lips.

Her breath against your pussy was enough to push you over the edge - a long carnal whine expelled in frustration at how slow she was going. Needing her to finally take you the way you knew she wanted to.

“Say. It.” maliciously whispered, eyes showing you that even if her face was stoic in this moment, there was a hunger in them.

Sana drags her tongue up your inner thigh, stopping right before you could gain any relief from the friction of her touch.

This was torture.

“Baby” a breathless attempt.

Sana inches her way back up to your mouth, leaving a trail of ever deepening teeth marks in her wake, until she’s face to face with you - noses caressing and lips teasing each other.

Tugging at the metal of the cuffs, you whimper at not being able to touch her. Wanting to pull her close to you and tempt her to break- to give in and give you want you needed from her.

Sitting in sounds of your shallowed breath, Sana smirks at you letting out a sigh.

“I can feel how wet you are, baby.” taking her hand down the the base of the strap and positioning it against your entrance.

“Dripping down my strap and knowing that you can’t touch me…Must be so agonizing for a whore like you.” taunting you through clenched teeth and a forced smile.

Gliding over your slit again, she brings her lips closer to yours, letting you lean up to her but pulling away before your lips meet.

The only thing you can think about is her ruining you. Burning sensations of the emptiness between your legs instructs you to rock your hips back and forth to try and get her to slip the tip inside you.

“What’s the safe word?” pulling out of the moment to acknowledge the boundaries.

“Red.”

As soon as the word flies out of your mouth, Sana’s hand is around your throat. Thrusting her hips forward painfully slow until she completely bottoms out inside you.

The moan you let out was music to Sana’s ears, wanting nothing more than to let the guest in your house to know who could make you like this…let them know who you belong to.

Pulling the attachment out to the tip, Sana slams back down - hard but at a slow pace.

“That’s right, honey.” hips cocking back again.

“Let her know you’re mine.” hips snapping into you creating a rhythmic slapping as she continues torturing you with the aggressively slow stake to her claim.

Lips finally meeting, you’re fighting the metal connecting your hands as you both passionately dissolve into each other.

Sana’s grip around your throat tightens as she slowly starts to pick up the pace of ramming the strap into you. Her other hand trails to pinch your nipple, giving it a flick and a few twists so you moan even louder.

Feeling all the euphoria she was presenting you with, you’re unable to stop yourself from whimpering and moaning. Any attempt at muffling them felt useless. The only sounds outside of your own moaning was Sana breathing heavier as she snapped her hips into you, was the sound of your slick against her aggressive, deep thrusts.

Sana suddenly stops, elbows on either side of you, her resting and catching her breath for a moment. Taking a second to brush the hair out of your face, she looks you in the eyes and snaps her hips into you, pressing against your cervix when she speaks.

“Does she fuck you like this, slut?” another harsh thrust.

“Unh! Fuck babyyyy- ungh” your own voice echoes off the wall and back to you.

“Can she make your pussy this fucking wet?” another rabid jolt of her hips.

The deep strokes of her inside you hit every spot imaginable, tingling building in your limbs as she keeps marking her territory with her mouth, bite marks and hickies litter your body haphazardly.

Pressure building from inside you, gasping for air when you realize how close you are to cumming.

“S-Sana! I’m gonna c-cu-”

“No.” is all she says when she pulls out of you completely and watches as you writhe and whine on the sheets.

Moaning and whining in protest as you feel the pleasure receding, Sana just smiles and watches you tear up.

“Tell me who you belong to.” tip grinding against you again, this time causing an almost out right panic in you.

“Only you! Sana, please! fuck me! I need it I need it I need it PLEASE.” tears rolling down your cheeks, inching yourself close to her.

“Sit up.”

You immediately do as your told.

Sana grabs the keys from the nightstand and unhooks your hands.

Immediately, without a second thought, you’re pulling her onto the bed and pushing her down. Her smile is huge, giggling at how desperate you are.

Sana’s hands make their way to your thighs as you fix your position on top of her, straddling her as you ease yourself down onto her.

Hands flying up to catch your waist before you can sink too far down on her, she holds you still and buck her hips up one hard time before allowing you to sit comfortably with the strap inside you.

Completely blissed out, you lean forward and lay on her chest with your face in her neck. Her soft sweet giggle can be heard in your ear.

“Is my good girl that desperate?” placing her hands on your ass and assisting you in slamming down onto her.

“I bet she couldn’t ruin you like this.” positioning her hips at just the right angle to hit your G-spot over and over again as she picks up her pace for you.

Loudly mewling out as she rails into you, the ethereal wave comes back and takes hold of you again. Slamming yourself down onto her on your own, you can only think about cumming for her.

Right as the orgasm is about to shatter through you, Sana flips you over and throws you into a mating press, thighs against your chest and starts jackhammering into you so deeply that it sets your skin on fire.

“Fuck, S-s-ana! I’m gonna c-cum! J-ust like th-that baby!”

“Tell me who you belong to, honey.” her tempo only accelerates.

“You! Only you!” turning you into a groaning mess as you come undone around her.

Vision blacking out, you practically scream as you lose your sense of self and turn into exactly what she wanted, a ruined wife.

Her ruined wife.

Every fiber of your being set on fire and you violently thrash underneath her, creating a mess on the sheets and all over your wife.

Sana is laying soft sweet pecks on your cheeks as she lets you ride out your orgasm, holding your hips still while she lightly rocks into you.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” kissing your forehead and standing up, removing the strap from inside you.

“Look at the mess you made” pointing to the lace smeared with slick.

Unable to catch your breath, you try to compose yourself to reply when she sinks to her knees between your legs.

“Let me help clean you up, honey.”

A long, wide tongued lick up your pussy has you twitching immediately, still completely sensitive and walking into overstimulated territory.

All you can say is “Fuck, baby.” as she laps at you, cleaning up the remanence of cum from your thighs and cunt.

Passing over your clit intentionally, she watches you squirm and moans into you. Hands immediately grasping at her head, trying to pull her closer.

“Is that what you want, baby?” before a rhythmic open mouth kiss engulfs your most sensitive area and turns you back into a groaning mess.

It wasn’t long before she added her fingers into your folds, slipping two in immediately and pressing them up while latched onto your clit.

Bucking your hips into her mouth, you release the loudest, guttural moan you’ve ever heard as you cum around her fingers. Barely giving you enough time to come down from your first orgasm, she expected this of you - cumming quickly for her a second time.

Feeling the droplets of sweat dropping from your forehead, you feel Sana crawl up next to you and snuggle into you. Still gasping for air, you rolled onto your side and nuzzled into her. She played with your hair until you eventually fell asleep in her arms.

—

Waking up the next day was an atrocious feeling, not enough sleep and more sore than you ever had been.

Cracking your eyes open, you realize the bed is empty and there’s laughter coming from the kitchen.

Sitting up and rolling out of bed, you stretch and wince before getting a pair of Sana’s sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt to cover yourself up.

Opening the door to the bedroom, you wipe the sleep from your eyes and meander over to where the sound was coming from, dragging your feet along the way.

Sana and Nayeon are drinking coffee together in their pajamas - Sana is wearing one of your shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, a stark difference to what she wore last night. Nayeon has on something similar.

“Well good morning to you, Y/nnie!” Nayeon blurts out before falling into a thunderous cackle.

“You look like you got beat up! I said good luck, didn’t you hear me?” continuing to laugh with Sana.

“How bad are they? I didn’t check my neck in the mirror…wait, you…you knew?!” squinting at her in judgement.

“They’re pretty bad…Sana must have a biting kink, hm? And of course I knew! The tension between the two of you can be felt light years away. Plus, you weren’t exactly quiet about it.” fighting the laughter as she winked at you.

Nayeon’s hands shoot up in innocence again.

“She’s yours, Sana. I wouldn’t dream of taking her away from you.”

Looking over at Sana, she’s got her hand over her mouth trying to stifle the giggles. She walks over to pour you some coffee.

“I think it’s more about possessive and less about biting…And what are you laughing at?! You started this!” pointing at your wife as she turns beat red.

“No I didn’t.” nonchalantly as she passes you the mug.

“Nayeon should be happy that she’s leaving tonight.” sipping the warmth and smacking your lips at the taste.

“Why is that?” curiously inquired by Im Nayeon.

Looking over at Sana, she’s embarrassed and covering her face with her hand again but for different reasons.

“I didn’t flirt with you, but Sana flirted with the waiter in front of my face like that so I’ll put it this way…I know someone who’s louder and about to get it a lot worse than I did.”

[moomiewoomie]

First time — Nicholas Alexander Chavez

MINORS DNI!! SMUT!! unprotected p in v, both virgins, implied late teenagers 18-19 years old, female receiving fingering, light hearted, nipple stimulated, missionary, giggly sex, size difference, size kink, tentative.

a/n: this is a bit rushed and not proof read, I hope you guys like it. FEEL FREE TO LEAVE SUGGESTIONS!!

you sat across from each other on his navy sheet glad bed, you where both sat cross legged holding hands. It was all extremely intimate, despite the nerves and the awkwardness. You both sat in silence, neither of you wanted to make the first move. you were both far to nervous. you realised quickly that if you didn’t make the first move sex would never come. after a moment of hesitation you lean in and press a slow tentative kiss against his lips. the kiss lasts for a few seconds before you pull away to speak. “are you nervous?”

His Adam’s apple bobs and he nods his head. “yeah… this means a lot to me” he whispered gently, a shy smile spread across his flushed face. you nod you head, understanding him. you felt the same way. “me too, I’m kinda shaking” you giggled, a touch ‘embarrassed. you bring up your hands to show him how they shook. he let out a little chuckle and leans in to press a soft kiss against the very tip of your nose. “your shaking like a leaf” he pokes fun at you playfully

you snort and gently hit his shoulder, he gives you a half hearted scold. the tension seemed to float away when you two began to speak. you guys fell silent and you decided to get the ball rolling once again. “wanna help me get my clothes off?” you ask gently, a shy smile spread across your pink lips. Nicholas eyes widened and he nodded his head eagerly.

with shaky hands he begins to slowly unbutton your blouse, button by button your little white lace bra is slowly revealed. he gulped as he pushed the soft fabric off of her shoulders. “your turn” you giggled, once he was done you begin to pull off his own shirt revealing his lean chest. he reaches his hands down and begins to unbutton your jeans and then he pushes them down, you lift up your hips to help him pull down her pants. Next you unbuckle his belt and he helps you shimmy off his jeans.

you sit infront of each other in your underwear, his erection is incredibly visible through his black boxers. you look him up and down and let out a little giggle. “You look good” you whispered gently. A shy grin spread across his face and he looks away from a moment unable to hold your gaze, he was clearly extremely flattered and from the erection in his jeans, he was clearly turned on. ”thanks… you look…” his voice turned off. He couldn’t seem to put it into words how beautiful you looked in your little lace panties and bra.

he reaches a hand out tentatively and gently traces your bra strap with his index finger, he looks up at you for permission as his hands snake around to your bra clasp. You know your head and with a little struggle he manages to unhook your bra, he wasn’t proud to admit that he had practice before especially for tonight. Your bro dropped the ground and Nicholas’s jaw dropped. His atoms Apple and he stared almost in awe at your breast, he’s seen tits in magazine and porn but never in real life. 

with a little hesitation, he reaches a hands up. His hand hover over your breast for a moment and he looks up at you for consent once more. “Go ahead…” whispered gently and he goes ahead. He gently cups your breast, fuck. He begins to gently need your breasts always playing with them like a toddler would play with a toy, he had this huge satisfied grin on his face. You lean in and whisper gently “can you try sucking them?” he looks up from your breast and not his head eagerly. He dipped his head down and begins to slowly suck on your pebbled pink nipple.

You bite down on your tongue and close your eyes as you savour the feeling of his hot mouth working against your pink nub. nicks cock throbs painfully against his boxers, he slips a hand down and begins stroking himself slowly to relieve some built-up pressure. You notice and your hand down, your hand joins his. You begin help him jerk himself off.

His hips began to buck up into yours and his hand. “oh god… y/n” he groans as you begin to stroke him faster. it isn’t long before his face was scrunched up in this incredibly hot mix of concentration and pleasure. his hands dug into the sides of the pillow either your head. “Shit, I-I’m… gonna… oh god” he gasps as he spills his load all over your stomach. after a few more bucks and thrusts he stops fucking your hand, he pants as he catches his breath. “you came before we could have sex” you pout, he reaches a hand down to cup your face.

“give me a minute, I’m already getting hard again” he chuckled sheepishly. the erotic sight of your stomach painted in his cum was enough to making his semi hard on a raging boner. “Your happy” he tease him. he reaches his hands down to grab onto your inner thighs, he pushes your thighs wide apart and settles between your spilt thighs. one hand lets go of your squishy thighs and pulls aside the crotch of your lace panties. Nick suppresses a groan when he sees your glisten pink folds.

I bits down on his bottom lip and begins to press the tip of his penis against your entrance. he looks up to you once again to seek consent. “mhm… that’s okay” you reassure him. he nods his head and scrunches his face up in concentration. “this might hurt.” he warns you, he had admittedly did some research for tonight. he slowly pushes the tip of his penis into your wet snatch, you let out a gasp of pain when he stretches you out. your nails came out to dig into nicks back muscles.

“do you need me to stop?” worry was written all over nicks face when he asked you if he needed to stop. you wince but you shake your head, you can power through. “No… no” you whisper weakly. he lets out a small hum and continues to slowly push his member deeper and deeper into you until he was half way in. “can you rub my clit?” you asked gently, you always felt comfortable suggesting things like that around him. “shit. Yeah of course” he nods his head dipping a hand down to begin rubbing your pink sensitive nub.

that feels good, so good. the pain of him stretching you out gets more and more bearable until it starts to feel good. The tip of his penis begins to press against your special spot, you let out a surprised gasp at the sudden pleasure you were feeling. he stops and looks down at you, his finger pausing on your clit. “are you okay?” He asked. Worried that you gasp was a gasp of pain. “no silly, that feels really good” you praise him. “Oh” he chuckles sheepishly before continuing.

Nichola begins to speed up, he’s using all his strength to stop himself from cumming right then and there. his face crunches up in concentration. “I-I’m trying really hard not to cum” he grunts. you let out a little giggle and whispers back to him. “Me too”, you both laugh. he leans down and presses a slow kiss against your lips so he can muffle his own groans and moans. it’s not long before his finger on your clit gets to you and you begin moaning against the kiss too.

his thrusts grows almost erratic, like he’s trying his hardest not to thrust himself deep into you. His face scrunches up in pleasure and his mouth drops open. “Fuck I’m close” he groans, you nod your head in agreement and begins to buck your hips up to get more friction against his finger. “Yeah, same” you breath out weakly. your nails dig into his back muscles as his finger speeds up on your clit and his penis rubs against your special spot. your back arches off his bed and his hand digs into your hip.

“Shit!” he gasps, you both reach the edge together. his body tenses and his balls tighten as he suddenly pulls out his cock to spill all over your stomach. his fingers continue on your clit so your came cum too. your eyes widened and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. you both stare back at each other with widened eyes, your moans turns into pants as you try to catch your breath.

“god…” he whispered using gods name in vain.

[call-me-chips]

Alrighty this is gonna be long but I'm bored so HERE WE GOOO

Kyomu Mori questions

1.Are they associated with a certain colour? What colour do they wear the most?

Because if his hair colour, I'd say he's accosiated with light blue. He usually wears more muted-ish colours like grey, dark blue, and white, but he loves wearing yellow

2. What sort of music would they like? Have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? Do they have a favorite song?

He prefers rock music. Basically any music that makes you feel like you can take on the world. He loves vibing to those. And just because I don't have a fav song, neither does he 😅 (my fav songs change within a week)

3. Weapon of choice? Any particular reason they chose their weapon?

Guns. Any kind of gun, though he prefers pistols and other small, handheld ones. He likes guns because he's always been talented with them. That, and that he was raised by Snipe

4. How crafty/resourceful are they?

I'd say about a 7-7.5 out of ten for this one. Not the greatest, but he can conjure up some resourcefulness when he wants to

5. How do they typically dress? Does their wardrobe lean more toward practicality or aesthetics?

Depending on how he's feeling, his clothing choice changes. On a good day, he'll go for a nice-fitting tank top. On a bad day, he night go for a loose-fitting t-shirt. His clothing style is casual, but kinda aesthetic in a sort of steetsy-kinda way(??). Fashion/aesthetics are important for him, but you'll never catch him wearing anything with pockets he can't shove his whole hand into

6. How do they wear their hair? Do they care a lot about how their hair looks?

He almost always wears his hair in a high ponytail. Although he does this to get his hair out of the way, he always makes sure his hair looks presentable. He's the kinda guy to use a bit too much conditioner

7. Favourite animal? Why?

Dogs. Specifically german shepherds. Because he thinks guard dogs are cool af

8. Do they have a nickname? Who gave it to them? If it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?

His nickname is Kyo. Ashido gave him it randomly one day, and Kaminari immediately started using it too

9. Favourite food? Least favourite? Are they a picky eater? Do they have any dietary restrictions?

Fav: Burgers. Specifically bacon burgers. Least fav: Tomatoes. He's not really a picky eater, but he's not even TOUCHING anything woth tomatoes in it. And he doesn't have any dietary restrictions

10. If they wear jewelry, what kind? Do they prefer silver or gold? Do they have a favourite gem?

He wears earrings and has an eyebrow piercing, but he'll toss on a necklace or two if he wants to look presentable when going out

11. What do they have in common with you? How are they different? Would you get along with them?

He doesn't have a lot in common with me. Ig we both question authority?? Also we both live guns. Overall, he's MUCH more confident than me. We are quite different. I'd say I wouldn't get along the greatest with him, mainly cuz he likes physical touch, and that is something I HATE. You touch me randomly and I freeze, as well as shoot you a dirty look XD

12. How long have they been around? Do you know their birthday? Is their birthday the day you made them or another day? What do they think of celebrating birthdays?

He has been around for 16 and a bit years, and his birthday is on April 6th. This is not the day I made him (actually this is the first I'm hearing of making their release date into their actual birthday. I shall do this for another of my ocs :) ). He loves his birthday cuz it gives him attention xD

13. What languages do they speak? How fluently?

He can speak Japanese, English, and Filipino. He speaks Japanese fluently. His English isn't the greatest, but he's learning from school. His Filipino is REALLY rusty, but he can hold a basic conversation. He knows Filipino because his father is from the Philippines, and he learned the language as a kid, but he hasn't really used it since highschool

14. Are they any good with numbers?

Not really sure how to interpret this, but he's not the greatest at math

15. How big or small is their family? Who did they live with growing up? Do they live with anyone now?

His parents died. He lived with Snipe growing up. Currently, he's living in the UA dorms

16. Do they have any pets? What do they call their pets?

He doesn't have any pets, but he wants a dog. He also kinda maybe sorta wants a bird

17. How did they spend their summers/free time as a child?

He spent a lot of his time at the shooting range growing up, and it's always been a place of comfort to him

18. Their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?

He thinks they're bad, obviously. But,,, he does think they are justified, and even necessary, in many cases

19. Are they quick to anger? What sets them off?

He doesn't really anger quickly. He's more laid back. And although he does get angry when someone hurts/threatens his friends, he also gets angry when many little things go wrong. Like, you know those days where everything seems to go wrong and you're tripping on things and dropping things? Yeah that gets him angy quickly

20. If applicable, can they drive? If they have their own, what colour is their vehicle? Is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?

The legal driving age in Japan is 18, so he can't drive. But he may or may not fail many a driving test in the future... Also he has sworn that his future car WILL have racing stripes.

21. Their favourite place to be?

The shooting range

22. Do they sleep well at night?

Kyomu sleeps like a little baby, if that baby takes up the whole bed while sleeping and falls off the bed randomly in the night

23. How would you describe their voice? Can they sing?

His voice is on the louder side. I don't have a voice claim yet, but I may find one eventually. Also he can't sing. Granted, it's def not the worst out there, but it couldn't be considered "good"

24. Do they have any creative hobbies? (Art, writing, music, etc.)

He likes doing graffiti, tho he doesn't do it often. Other than that, he likes to listen to music

25. How good/bad is their hearing? What about their eyesight?

His hearing is a little better than what is considered normal, and his eyesight is good. Little fun fact about his eyesight: He sees yellow slightly better than any other colour. Yellow is very slightly more vibrant and bright to him

26. How do they move? Are they clumsy? Light on their feet? Do they use mobility aids?

Because of how his legs are built, he is slightly more light on his feet. His footsteps don't make a lot of noise. He can be a bit clumsy tho. He's not the most careful with his actions

27. If applicable, do they have a favorite sport? Do they play any sports or prefer to watch?

He likes basketball (probably cuz Kyomu has a height advantage over his friends). Watching sports is boring to him, and he prefers to play some friendly basketball with his friends

28. How do they show they care about someone? How do they express that they don't like someone?

Kyomu shows he likes someone by doing things with them and touching them (not like that. Stop it.). He'll ruffle his friends' hair or playfully poke them, and he's always down to give a massage if asked. Sometimes he'll even find his tail involuntarily grazing by the legs of those he loves.

29. Are they accosiated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?

I don't think he's really "accosiated" with an element, but he'd probably be water

30. Do they smell like anything notable?

Nope. The only notable smell-related thing I can think of is that he sometimes uses women's deodorant because it smells better than men's "forest mud deodorant" or whatever it's named xD

31. Do they like receiving gifts? Giving gifts? What is their ideal gift?

He loves receiving gifts, but not giving so much, because he rever really knows what to get people. His ideal gift is any like, small, neat, unique, silly trinket. He loves collecting silly shit his friends give him

32. Do they have any hobbies that aren't particularly self-destructive, just maybe odd?

Not a hobby, but he drinks the pickle juice out of the jar when he finishes all the pickles.

33. If applicable, how would your other characters describe them? I mean specifically the people around them.

I don't have any other Mha ocs as of rn, but I can do this for his friends. Also I'm not gonna go into how each character would describe him, so ima do how the characters see him Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero see him as kinda like a cool older brother, and they live hanging out with him Kirishima and Jirou see him as a wee bit much, but they still love him and love the energy that he brings to class. Bakugou doesn't like him. Especially cuz Kyomu is taller than him and he doesn't like that Others like Iida, Midoriya, and Ochako don't care for his rebellious personality, but they will admit that he brings up the mood of just about whatever situation he finds himself in

(The thing above is being a bitch and is refusing to be coloured blue and now we must all suffer.)

34. How would your character describe themselves? It doesn't have to line up with who they really are.

Kyomu thinks of himself as more or less the "popular kid" that just about everyone likes. He would describe himself as brave, strong, and willing to stick up for what he thinks is right

35. Do they ever return home?

. . . . ?? He never "left" home?? I mean, he is living in the dorms rn, but idk what this question is getting at :/

Tagging @bluespider008 because I found these questions cuz you posted yours, but I didn't want this to take up a ton of space on my blog, so I just reblogged the original post 😅

Idk if you wanna see this, but you're seeing it now!

Also feel free to reblog with your oc :)

i wanted to make an oc ask game 😋 things i like to ask people abt their characters:

are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?

what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favorite song?

weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?

how crafty/resourceful are they?

how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?

how do they wear their hair? do they care a lot how their hair looks?

favorite animal? why?

do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?

favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?

if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favorite gem?

what do they have in common with you? how are they different? would you get along with them?

how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?

what languages do they speak? how fluently?

are they any good with numbers?

how big or small is their family? who did they live with growing up? do they live with anyone now?

do they have any pets? what do they call their pets?

how did they spend their summers/free time as a child?

their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?

are they quick to anger? what sets them off?

if applicable, can they drive? if they have their own, what color is their vehicle? is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?

their favorite place to be?

do they sleep well at night?

how would you describe their voice? can they sing?

do they have any creative hobbies? (art, writing, music, etc)

how good/bad is their hearing? what about their eyesight?

how do they move? are they clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids?

if applicable, do they have a favorite sport? do they play any sports or prefer to watch?

how do they show that they care about someone? how do they express that they don't like someone?

are they associated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?

do they smell like anything notable?

do they like receiving gifts? giving gifts? what is their ideal gift?

do they have any habits that aren't particularly self-destructive, just maybe odd?

if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them.

how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are.

do they ever return home?

[letteredlettered]

feedback and fic in fandom (3 f's of our own)

This conversation about feedback on fic says everything I’ve been wanting to say better than I could say it. But I’ll go ahead and try anyway.

Over the last five years or so there have been some great discussions around the rise of commodification of fanworks and decline of fandom community. This commodification looks a bit like enshittification of the internet: a cool site exists; its popularity makes someone realize they can get money from it; it has more and more ads; the site adds features to drive engagement, including The Algorithm; the things that made the site cool start to fall away. The site exists now as a vehicle purely to get clicks, and the people on it are on it solely to get clicks—to make money, to be successful, for some kind of social cachet.

AO3 doesn’t have advertisements. It’s not making money. But what is happening to fandom is proof of concept that enshittification changes the way we as humans engage. A cool website in 2004 was often a community space where you could meet people, have conversations, find cool things, and make cool things. A cool website in 2024 is either a content farm that will continually feed you enough content to hold your attention, or a social media site where your participation will come with stats to show you whether you are holding the attention of others.

AO3 wasn’t built to be a community space. It doesn’t have great functions for meeting people and having conversations. The idea was that, because fandom community spaces already existed, AO3 would serve the part of that community where you can find the cool things and store the cool things you made. It was meant to be a library in a city, not the whole city itself.

But it was also never meant to be a website in 2024, a content farm constantly generating content solely for your clicks and eyeballs and ad revenue, or a social media site where the content creators themselves vie for your clicks and eyeballs.

The most common talking point when people discuss the enshittification of fandom is the folks out there who are treating AO3 as that first kind of enshittified website: the content farm. This discussion is about how people treat fanfic as a product for consumption.

The post that kicked off the discussion on @sitp-recs’s blog was about someone who wasn’t getting very many kudos or comments on their fic, and was feeling pretty demoralized about it, then joined a discord server and found an entire channel dedicated to people loving their fic. But those on that server had never come to share that love with the author, which the author found really discouraging.

There are more and more stories like this. Someone on tiktok pulls a quote from a fic on AO3 and makes a 10-second video with them staring at a wall, the quote pasted at the bottom, music playing over it. It has 100,000 hearts, and 100 comments with people gushing over the fic, which has 80 kudos on AO3. Overall, people notice more and more hits on their fics, but fewer and fewer comments or even kudos. Fewer and fewer people seem to feel the need to interact with the author, instead treating the fic like a product to be used and discarded—which the enshittified internet (a stunning feature of late-stage capitalism!) encourages. The fandom community is dying, these stories conclude.

I agree. 100%. Both of the stories above have happened to me—viral tiktoks about my fic, secret discord channels to follow and discuss my fic—and let me tell you, it fucking sucks.

But from these observations about fandom enshittification, the discussion continues in a very odd direction. The solution to the death of fandom community is our favorite enshittification buzzword: engagement. We should engage the authors. They’re producing these products for free. We consume them at no cost. We must demonstrate our gratitude by paying them back.

It’s as though the capitalist consumption that the enshittified web encourages is so ingrained within us that we must think in terms of payment, in terms of exchange, transaction. Or as though, by forgoing payment, authors are some kind of martyrs defying capitalism, and the only way to honor their great sacrifice is comments and kudos.

Indeed, the discourse around this sometimes does veer away from capitalist rhetoric into something that smells almost religious in desperation. Authors are gods who bestow us mere mortals with the fruits of their labor benevolently, through love; the least we can do is worship them. Meanwhile the authors adopt the groveling sentiment of starving artists: I produce great art; I only humbly ask that you feed me in return.

These kinds of entreaties make my skin crawl for a number of reasons. I’m not a god. I’m not writing because I love you. I don’t expect your worship or even your praise.

I think the thing that disturbs me the most about it is that it suggests that authors (or, if the OP is feeling generous fan work creators) are the most important people in fandom. I’ve even seen posts stating that without creators, fandom wouldn’t exist—as though readers aren’t just as important. As though conversations where people discuss characterizations and plot points and randomly spin out interpretations and ideas and thoughts related to canon are meaningless. I’ve even seen people scramble to include folks having these discussions as “creators,” as though realizing that these people are necessary and integral to fandom communities but unable to drop the idea that the producers are the ones who are important. As though that person who just lurks can never count.

Is this what community is? When you join the queer community, are you expected to produce a product of your queerness? If not, must you actively participate and give back to the queer community in order to be considered a part of it? Or is it enough that you are queer, that you exist as a queer person and want to be around others who are queer, you want to be a part of something? What is community, anyway?

The problem with people raising the authors above everyone else in the community and demanding that tribute be paid is that they are decrying the “content farm” style of 2024 website out of one side of their mouth, but out of the other side are instead demanding that AO3 become a 2024-style social media website. Authors are influencers. “Engagement” and clicks are the things that really matter. They are in fact suggesting that the way to solve the commodification of fanfic is by “paying authors back” with stats.

Before anyone comes at me with the idea that comments aren’t just “stats,” I will clarify what I mean. There are literally hundreds of posts on tumblr alone claiming that any comment “helps” the author. Someone replies that they are shy to comment. Someone else replies that incoherent keyboard smashes, a single emoji, or the comment “kudos” are all that is required to satisfy the author, all that is required as tribute—all that is required as payment to keep this economy healthy.

I’m not condemning the comments that are keyboard smashes or emojis or a single kind word. I receive them. They make me happy. If anyone wants to leave such a comment on my fics, I’m really grateful for it. But this is not community-building. This is a transaction. In @yiiiiiiiikes25’s excellent response in the post linked at the beginning, they point out that “you have a cool hat” is something that is “perfectly nice” to hear from someone—and it is! We all want to be told we have a cool hat! But as they go on to say, what builds community is interactions that are deep and specific, interactions that are rich in quality, not in quantity. A kudos or a comment that says only ❤️are lovely things to receive, but they don’t build community.

My reaction, when I see people begging for kudos and comments as the only means by which to keep fandom community alive, is very close to @eleadore's. I want to say, “No. Readers do not need to comment or kudos. Believe not these hucksters who claim to know the appropriate method of fandom participation. Participate as you feel able, or not at all; nothing is required of you.”

I’ve been told before (several times) that I’m not qualified to participate in such discussions because I am an established author who has some fics with very high stats. It doesn’t matter that I have also been a new writer with almost no one reading my fics. It doesn’t matter that I still write in new fandoms where no one in that fandom knows me. It doesn’t matter that I, like any human being, still care about receiving recognition and attention and praise.

And maybe that’s correct. I personally don’t think that billionaires have a place in deciding the direction of the economy, and--if we're really going to consider fandom an economy--in fandom terms, if I’m not a billionaire, or even a millionaire, I’m definitely in the infamous “one percent.” So, just as no one wants to hear Elon Musk say “money isn’t everything,” maybe it’s not my place to say “kudos isn’t required, actually.”

That said, I’m not the only one who has a problem with the stats-based discourse around fandom community. However, the main counter-response to this discussion I see goes something like this: you shouldn’t be writing fic for validation. If you’re writing for attention, you’re doing it for the wrong reason. Authors should write fic because they love it without any expectation of return.

This is, in my opinion, missing the point of what is meant by fandom community.

I wrote fanfic before I knew that fanfic, as a concept, existed. I read books; I wanted them to be different; I wrote little stories for myself with new endings, with self-inserts, with cross-overs, with alternate universes. I did it for myself in the 90s. It never occurred to me that anyone else would do this, much less that people would share.

As @faiell points out—creating and sharing are two different things. I created fics for myself, but I decided to share them in the early 2000s because other people might like them, too. And of course, I wanted to hear whether other people liked them. How could I not? I might decorate my home just for me and not for anyone else’s preferences, but when people come over and say my house is nice, how can I not enjoy that? And if a lot of people think my house is nice, which encourages me to post pictures of it online, isn’t it understandable I might do so with the hope that more people will say my house is nice? And, honestly, if no one is appreciating my pictures, I probably won’t continue to go through the trouble of taking them and posting them. I’ll just enjoy my house that I decorated without sharing, the end.

When I found out there were whole fannish communities where people discussed canon and tossed ideas around about it, made theories and prompts and insights into the characters, fics they had written and recs for other fics and analyses of fics and art based on fics and fics based on art—I wanted to be a part of that, too. Now, sometimes, I write fic not out of an internal need to do so but out of a desire to participate in that community.

The idea that we write fic only for the love of it, then post it only because we possess it, is a process entirely centered on the self. It’s fandom in a vacuum. The idea that we share this thing, that we feel pleasure if someone likes it but feel nothing at all if no one says anything about it, that it’s completely okay to be ignored and unseen—that’s not what a community is either. That’s some weird sort of self-aggrandizement through self-effacement—because yes, there is often a weird kind of virtue-signaling in this kind of discourse.

I say this as someone who has virtue-signaled in that way: “some people write for stats, but I write for myself.” It’s bullshit. Sure, I write for myself, but why post it on the internet? Honestly, said virtue has a whiff of the capitalist machine, which would like you to produce for the sake of production, work for the sake of work. The noblest among us expect no recompense for that which they give!

The reason that I’m bringing this back around to capitalism is that capitalism actively works to dismantle community. The reason that folks are out here pleading for “engagement” in order to “pay back” authors for the products they give us “for free” is because people no longer even have the language to discuss how to participate in meaningful community. And frankly, how to build back fandom community, in the face of enshittification, is getting harder and harder to see.

But I do think that if we value fanfic and the fanfic community, it’s really, really not constructive to judge whether someone’s reasons for writing fanfic are valid. It’s also weird to me that it would be considered wrong that someone’s reason for sharing fanfic is because they would like to receive some recognition for it, when in fact that seems to be the most natural reason in the world for sharing something so private and vulnerable with the world.

Let’s go back to that idea of how hurtful it is to find out your fanfic is trending on tiktok without anyone from tiktok saying anything to you about your fic, or how it can be painful to find out there’s a secret discord channel dedicated to your fic. The people who respond to that with, “Ah, but you shouldn’t be writing to get attention!” are missing the point. The fic did get attention. It got lots. Attention obviously wasn't why the writer was writing--they were writing to participate, and they didn't get to. At all.

However, if your conclusion is that the author was upset because these particular stats were not accruing under this author’s profile, thereby preventing them from achieving the vaunted status of BNF and influencer—I don’t know, maybe you’re right. But I don’t think that’s why I, personally, have been hurt by these things, and I doubt it’s what hurt the people in these posts either. They’re hurt because they want to participate, and they have been systematically excluded by the very people they thought were part of the community they thought they could participate in.

Sure, if those folks from tiktok and the discord server all came and showered the author with kudos and comments that said “kudos,” the author might have felt satisfied enough with the quantity of this recognition that they would continue writing. But in the end, this still does nothing to address the problem of fandom community, in which the deep, meaningful recognition, interactions, and relationships in fandom are getting harder and harder to have and to build, as a result of how people now expect to engage in online spaces.

So, how to address the problem of fandom community? You probably read this long, long post hoping that I had an answer, and for that I must apologize. I don’t have solutions. My intent was to be descriptive, rather than prescriptive. I wished to outline the problems that I’m seeing in what was hopefully a slightly new or at least thought-provoking way, rather than offer solutions.

But, now that I’m talking about being prescriptive, maybe I can offer one suggestion, which is—maybe the solution to this isn’t about prescribing behavior. I do understand the irony in writing a prescription saying we shouldn’t prescribe people, but I’m going to write it anyway:

Maybe we shouldn’t be telling anyone the appropriate reasons for writing fanfic or for sharing it. Maybe we shouldn’t be telling readers they need to kudos or need to comment. If we’re going to go pointing fingers, we should be pointing at the institutions of capitalism that have made the internet what it is today—but I don’t think that’s going to solve the problem either.

But I do think that describing this problem, understanding what it actually is, not blaming readers for it and not blaming authors for it—I do think that helps. The discussion I linked at the beginning of this post is what I think of as the fandom I miss, the fandom that's now harder and harder to access, the fandom that is dying. That fandom was a social space where people had opinions and disagreed and went back and forth and gazed at their navels and then talked about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

In the words of @yiiiiiiiikes25, it was a fuckin’ discussion about hats. And we’re hungry for it.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫

Satoru Gojo

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Summary: Satoru is your best friend's boyfriend, you shouldn't like him.

Warnings: MDNI, Angst, Cheating (on Satoru, not from reader), Smut, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Daddy Kink, Spanking, Fluff, Hair descriptions for reader

*This is another commission for @mew4-ever18, y'all can thank her again! I hope you guys enjoy because it's truly a wild but fun ride🙂‍↕️

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You’re not sure why you sit with them instead of just being in your room. They’re here for your best friend, not you. You have no business being with them. It feels like you’re in high school all over again, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst them.

Every other night you’re fine with them being here, but tonight you’re out of it. Your eyes keep darting to Satoru and Ali, both sitting so close together that you almost feel upset. Ali is your best friend– She’s been by your side for as long as you can remember. She’s like a sister… Yet you have conflicting feelings.

Whenever you look at her and Satoru together, you feel upset. A feeling that is quickly followed by remorse. You shouldn’t like your best friend’s boyfriend; alas, you can’t control your feelings. Even if you do act on your feelings (you only have a tiny crush either way, it’s no big deal), he wouldn’t reciprocate them. Ali is simply stunning– It’s not that you’re ugly, but your whole life you’ve watched her get praised for her beauty. She simply stands out while you’re just there. Just like this moment.

“Hey, are you okay?” You hear your name from Satoru’s mouth, interrupting you from your trance of thoughts. Ali giggles, whispering something in his ear which makes the man chuckle. You unintentionally roll your eyes before nodding.

“Oh my god, guys. I forgot to tell you.” Ali begins, drawing everyone’s attention. There’s a grin on her face as she says, “It’s mine and Satoru’s third month anniversary.”

“Woah, for a moment I thought that you had something important to say.” Suguru, who sits beside you, comments. Ali clicks her tongue, sticking out her middle finger at the man. Suguru chuckles in response.

“It’s important! Satoru is going to propose soon.” She announces, sticking up her left hand. Satoru’s eyes widen, and he scoots away from her on the couch. Though they’re details that you don’t notice. You’re just staring at Ali’s ring finger, knowing that it’ll be adorned by a rock soon enough. You know she’s very influential, and gets what she wants in the end.

“She’s joking.” Satoru quickly clarifies but you know that it’s only a matter of time before Ali gets her way. In all of your years of knowing Ali, you’ve never seen her get turned down. She isn’t serious now, but she’s dropping hints that she wants it to happen soon; if she doesn’t get her way soon, the relationship will come to an end. 

“I guess.” Ali chuckles before kissing Satoru’s cheek. It makes you take a deep breath and look away once again. You make brief eye contact with Shoko before quickly looking away as an uneasiness takes over you. You hear Ali ask, “It won’t hurt to think about it, right?”

“You’re still young, you have a lot of time.” Shoko chimes in, earning a glare from your best friend. That wasn’t the input she needed, therefore, Ali looks at you.

“It wouldn’t.” You force the words out of your mouth. You can barely look at Ali’s face. Throughout the day whenever you look at her you just think of last night. You left your room to get some water and heard a rather obscene scene. You are rightfully uncomfortable… But you’re also sad. 

You know you have no right to feel sad about this, but you can’t help the feeling. Every time you look at her you just can hear her moan his name over and over again while he groans from pleasure. You froze in place, and heard more than you had to last night. You felt sick, and that memory replaying in your head doesn’t help you.

Your breath hitches as you hear all of them laugh. You look around the room, feeling as if it gets smaller by the second. You can’t stand it. You stand up from the couch, and awkwardly smile. You look back and forth between your best friend and her boyfriend before you tell them,

“I’m going to lay down. I have a lot to do tomorrow.”

No one says anything, letting you leave the room without a protest. It’s not like you fit in the group either way. You feel like absolute shit, but it’s not their fault. Your personality just doesn’t match with theirs, and that’s not on them.

You lock yourself in your room and immediately bury your head in a pillow, letting the tears flow. An overwhelming flux of emotions flows through you. You like to think of yourself as confident, brave, and strong but right now you’re simply the worst. 

You shouldn’t like your best friend’s boyfriend and you shouldn’t be upset at the fact that you heard them have sex the night before. Ali’s been with you through thick and thin, and this is how you’re repaying her.

Meanwhile, Satoru is staring at your bedroom door before looking back at Ali. He asks, “Shouldn’t you check up on her? She’s acting weird tonight.”

“That’s just how she is. She’s always a little weird.” Ali rolls her eyes, and a slight frown comes on Satoru’s face. Maybe he shouldn’t overstep, Ali knows you better than anyone but the comment still feels odd.

“Isn’t that rude? She’s your best friend.” Satoru reminds her, and she clicks her tongue.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Satoru is in his mother’s hospital room, watching as the one that gave birth to him sleeps. Suguru sits down next to him, afraid to make conversation since he doesn’t want to wake the woman up. Suguru is just there for emotional support.

Satoru doesn’t know what happened. He was on his way to visit his girlfriend, and his father suddenly called. His mother was ill, and they were on the way to the hospital. And here he is now… Waiting to talk to her. They’ve been slipping her in and out of the room to run tests on her, and the moments that she’s in the room she can’t stay awake.

Satoru has been spending most of his days at the hospital for the past week. He’s sick of it, but he’s not leaving his mother alone– She wouldn’t be alone either way, his father is also practically living in the hospital, but Satoru still won’t leave. He texts Ali to kill time, though the conversations quickly get boring and he has to frequently change the topic.

“I’m going to get something to eat.” Suguru says, standing up from his seat. He’s been glancing at Satoru’s phone, snooping in a conversation that doesn’t concern him whatsoever. A conversation that’s too boring for him to keep reading, which is a lot to say.

“I’ll come with.” Satoru stands up as well, following Suguru’s lead. Satoru cracks his knuckles as they leave the room, commenting, “I’m so bored in there.”

“I saw you talking to Ali–” Suguru quickly bites his tongue when he realizes that he’s admitted to snooping. He can’t shut up now, he’s already admitted to his crime, he might as well say what’s on his mind. Suguru throws his arm over Satoru’s shoulder, slightly leaning on him as they walk to the elevator. “She’s pretty, bro. I’ll give you that but… She’s kind of superficial.”

“Why are you staring at my phone?” Satoru side-eyes his best friend, and Suguru shrugs. Satoru rolls his eyes at the lack of response before quickly defending his girlfriend. “You know she’s better in person.”

“She’s not. She only ever talks about herself, and it’s never something interesting.” Suguru points out, which makes a frown appear on Satoru’s face. That isn’t true at all– At least Satoru hasn’t noticed and he’s quick to pick up on stuff. Suguru continues trying to get his point across, “And I know she has… What, two million followers on Instagram? Like yeah, she’s pretty but apart from that she has nothing.”

“She has other qualities.” Satoru says as they both get to the elevator. He presses on the downwards arrow button, and they begin the long wait for either elevator.

“Like what? Please name one.” Suguru responds, and Satoru takes a minute to think about it. The elevator opens, and the men step aside to let the people out before entering the lift. The conversation dies down at that moment since it’s awkward to talk about Ali’s lack of personality when three other people surround them.

When they get to the first floor, Suguru brings up the topic again. Satoru’s annoyed, unwilling to listen at this point, and it’s written all over his face but Suguru does not care, “You deserve better. She’s not the type you’d want to marry.”

“How would you even know that?” Satoru scoffs, and Suguru rolls his eyes. Suguru knows that Satoru isn’t going to actually listen. Satoru is defensive about this, and Suguru can’t entirely blame him. Ali is still his girlfriend regardless, Suguru knows that he’d react the same way if Satoru began to bad talk Shoko.

“She treats her best friend like shit. She treats someone that she’s known her whole life like shit, and you think that’s the woman you should marry?” Suguru answers, which makes Satoru roll his eyes.

“Let’s just drop it.” Satoru ends up saying, and Suguru sighs defeatedly.

“Yeah. Let’s just eat something.” Suguru agrees. He checks the time and realizes he has to get going soon, “I’m leaving you after, I’m going to see Shoko.”

After Suguru leaves, Satoru is left to go back upstairs alone. He doesn’t mind the solitude, it’s not like he was talking to Suguru either way. He’ll probably ponder on Suguru’s words, and try to make an excuse for his girlfriend. Though if Satoru is being honest… He doubts the relationship is going to last long. He’s turned a one night stand into a regular thing– But maybe there’s a future in the relationship. He likes to be optimistic about things, even if it’s a relationship that doesn’t have much of a future.

“Satoru!” He’s met by a voice that catches him off guard. He’s a little surprised to be met by his girlfriend, but a smile comes to his face as he sees her face. Though the smile fades when he looks over her outfit.

Satoru isn’t one to police what his girlfriend wears. He’s fine with whatever that makes her happy. He’s not the type to get jealous or control that aspect of her life… But he recognizes when an outfit is inappropriate for an occasion.

She wears a red cut out dress, as if she’s about to go out clubbing. She smiles brightly at him, and Satoru can’t help but feel bad. She’s a little ditzy sometimes. She doesn’t mean any harm.

“What are you doing here?” Satoru sounds rather awkward, something that she doesn’t seem to notice. Satoru would be more welcoming if she looked a little more decent for the place. 

“I just want to visit my mother-in-law.” She says which makes Satoru cringe. He won’t correct her, he knows she’s just joking. He thinks she’s just joking. She gives him a tight hug, something that a few minutes ago he thought would be comforting; it’s anything but… But it’s not her fault. 

“She’s sleeping.” Satoru answers as he pulls away. Ali pouts, mimicking a sad expression. It feels like she’s mimicking considering how she exaggerates it. No– Satoru is just overthinking everything after his conversation with Suguru. The dumbass was trying to brainwash Satoru.

“Do you want to go out to dinner then?” She asks, as if it’s the only reason why she’s here. Satoru shakes his head which makes a slight frown appear on the woman’s face.

“I already ate something at the cafeteria.” Satoru responds. 

“I’ll go get something then. I’m hungry.” She replies, and Satoru tries not to question it. Did she come here for the sole purpose of stealing Satoru’s attention? No, he’s just letting Suguru get to his head. Though he’d admit that it’s odd for her to show up at the hospital and immediately ask him out to eat.

She bites down her lip before asking Satoru, “Do you want to come with?”

“I’m going to my mom’s room. You can come back after you’re finished.” Satoru answers, and she rolls her eyes. Satoru is going to pretend like he didn’t catch that weird reaction. It’s just his mind playing tricks on him. She leaves without a word, letting Satoru walk back to his mother’s room to wait by her side.

Satoru is sure he’s just reading into things as he sits down besides his mother once again. Stupid Suguru got in his head. The idiot has a way to mess with Satoru, it works ninety percent of the time. Though Satoru knows that he can’t entirely blame Suguru since the man just mentioned certain behaviors that Satoru himself noticed. Ali is quite a bitch with you, and if Satoru were anyone else, he’d give you the advice to cut her off.

Perhaps you’re just sticking around because you’re roommates with Ali. He doesn’t know the extent of your relationship either, he’s barely even scratched the surface so it’s not a matter that he has an opinion on. Ali is rising to fame as an influencer, and she’s letting the attention get to her head so maybe this is just some new behavior on her end. 

Satoru begins to question every little thing about Ali in the span of thirty minutes. Maybe she really is superficial like Suguru claims– Who is Satoru even trying to convince? Ali is most definitely superficial, he’s known about this since their very first date.

He grabs his phone to distract himself, he’s currently questioning his relationship because of Suguru’s dumb words. He can’t let the little shit get to his head, Suguru loves to do this every time Satoru has a girlfriend and it always ends up with Satoru breaking up with his girl.

Satoru’s eyes narrow as he sees a new story from Ali. His thumb hovers over the screen as the man builds up the courage to click on it. She’s posing seductively for the camera, and Satoru sighs as he sees the story from a couple of minutes ago. Maybe it’s just a video from a couple of weeks ago; she’s just posting content to keep her followers engaged.

Satoru taps on the screen, seeing she’s posted multiple things in the last thirty minutes. Before getting to the hospital and while she’s clearly in the building. Just five minutes ago she posted a mirror selfie in the hospital bathroom, and Satoru can’t help but frown. She’s a bit ditzy but she can’t be this unaware, right?

It clicks in his head at that moment. Suguru isn’t trying to brainwash him, he’s just pointing out what’s fairly obvious. Ali isn’t here to actually check up on Satoru’s mom, she’s here for another reason. She just wants Satoru’s attention.

He stands up from his chair and walks out of the room. He can’t sit there knowing she’s making a fool out of herself, and in the process, embarrassing him. He has to talk to her, ask for her to leave before she makes a complete and utter fool out of him as well.

Satoru gets to the cafeteria quickly, his eyes searching around the place for his girlfriend. Luckily, he doesn’t have to look for too long before his eyes land on her as she poses for a photo. She’s treating the hospital cafeteria as a photo studio, he can’t look at her for too long without embarrassment filling him inside. His eyes don’t wander too far before landing on an all too familiar face.

Satoru’s breath hitches, gulping as he stares back at his father. His father’s eyes then fall on Ali. Satoru just should turn around and not acknowledge her at all– If the situation is embarrassing now, he can only imagine it’s ten times worse if his father finds out that this oblivious woman is Satoru’s girlfriend.

“Pookie! Come here!” Ali yells once her eyes fall on Satoru, making it loud enough for everyone to hear. Satoru can still turn around and pretend like he doesn’t know her, especially since he sees his father’s brow furrows. Yeah… It’s best if Satoru turns around and apologizes later.

“Satoru! Are you ignoring me?!” She calls out as she walks over to the man. Satoru freezes in his spot, making eye contact with his father who shakes his head disappointedly. 

“Allison, now it’s not the time.” Satoru says through gritted teeth, not being able to even look at her. 

“What? What are you saying?” She sounds offended, and frankly, she should be. Satoru looks ashamed to be near her because he is. He feels all eyes on him since Ali isn’t exactly someone that blends into the crowd. Is this what it feels to be self-conscious? 

Satoru grabs her hand and practically drags her out of the place. She posters him, demanding he tell her what’s going on the entire time until they’re finally outside of the building. Satoru lets go and she crosses her arms, huffing and puffing as Satoru runs a hand through his hair.

He can’t lose his cool.

“Why are you here?” He asks, taking a deep breath to ensure he remains calm and collected. 

“I told you–” She begins only to be quickly interrupted by Satoru.

“Why are you actually here? Actually. First of all you come here looking like– That. You tell me you want to see my mother but immediately ask me to go out and get something together. Instead of coming back up you begin to smugly post on your social media,” Satoru is too frustrated to care about the words that leave his lips. “You’re posting for your millions of followers while you’re in a hospital. You’re supposed to be visiting my mother and you look like this.”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” She’s trying to play dumb, looking down at the attire that is clearly inappropriate for the occasion. She’s ignoring everything else, knowing that she can easily win the argument if she only focuses on one detail.

“For fuck’s sake, Allison. This is a hospital not a club. You’re here to visit my sick mother, or what? Did you have other plans tonight?” Satoru argues and she scoffs. 

“Excuse me for trying to be a good girlfriend. For the record, I do want to check up on my future mother-in-law. Next time I’ll just leave you alone.” She tries to sound threatening which makes Satoru roll his eyes. Before he can get another word in, she begins to walk away. She’s not going back inside, opting to walk to her car instead. 

Satoru doesn’t care to stop her, instead he’s agreeing with everything Suguru mentioned. Maybe he should reconsider everything about this relationship. But first… He has to go back inside and face his father.

As Ali and Satoru’s six month mark comes by, you notice that Satoru comes around less often. Satoru, who would come around every few days, barely shows up every two weeks. You think it started after Ali began to joke about getting engaged, but you know why Satoru is distant. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

You remember catching her before going out, telling you that she’s about to go meet Satoru at the hospital– Before you could even question her outfit she told you that she was hoping he’d take her out to eat. It’s shocking that he didn’t break up with her right then and there, but you guess that he likes her so much that he can’t bring himself to end things. 

Though as you walk past her bedroom, you hear that some things don’t change. No matter how bad she screws things up, this detail will never change. They could be a little less loud though, they’re not alone. Or they could simply go to Satoru’s apartment since he lives alone. But no, they choose to come here.

You should probably cover your ears as you walk to the kitchen to get some water, but you’re unphased by this. It’s not the first time it happens, and it certainly won’t be the last. You won’t lie and say that you aren’t uncomfortable by the sound of it, and perhaps you’re searching for an apartment to move away soon because of how upsetting it is. But you’re slowly getting used to it.

“Oh, fuck! It’s so good!” She moans and you let out a sigh. She has no consideration for you. It’s fine, you’ll go back to your room and put on some headphones to block it out. But you freeze in your steps when you hear a voice that is not the one of her boyfriend. 

You feel as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest as you come to the realization– But no, you’re not going to get involved. You grab your glass of water and walk back to your bedroom, locking the door.

You plop down on the bed, grabbing your phone to check on your social media. You have a feeling that Ali isn’t there with Satoru, and you want to check what he’s doing tonight. Satoru usually posts what he’s doing for the night in the most subtle ways. If he hasn’t posted anything, then he’s probably with Ali and you should ignore the whole situation; but you’re quickly proven right when you see Satoru posting with Suguru. 

The pictures could be from a different night though, but you notice that they were posted just a few minutes ago. Your eyes are wide, hands shaky as you stare at the picture. Regardless if they’re from nights ago or tonight, Satoru couldn’t have posted this while he’s getting busy with Ali. 

You turn off your phone and close your eyes at the realization that your best friend is cheating on her boyfriend.

You try to convince yourself that the previous night is a misunderstanding. You’re just getting the situation wrong, Ali would not do that to her boyfriend. But your best friend quickly proves you wrong when you walk out of your bedroom and see a random man in your kitchen, looking most indecent. He’s covered in love bites, confirming that you weren’t wrong in your assumptions

You almost feel like a prude for covering your eyes when you look in his direction– You would think she would try to hide it the best she could, but she doesn’t care. She’s letting him walk around freely in your apartment, even though you know she’s awake.

“Allison.” You knock on her bedroom door, and within a few seconds she opens it. Her sandy blonde hair is neatly kept, letting you know that she’s been awake for a while. She’s had enough time to get ready so she’s certainly had enough time to kick the random man that’s in your house out.

“Hi…” She bites her lip, looking guilty as ever. Just one swift look at you, and she knows that you’re not happy with her. She grabs your hand and pulls you inside before shutting the door. She doesn’t want her loverboy to hear what she has to say.

“Ali, what did you do?” You’re stern, making it clear that this isn’t a situation that you’re willing to laugh about. Maybe if Satoru deserved it you could turn a blind eye to this, but you can’t. Satoru is a great boyfriend to her.

“I’m sorry.” Tears begin to well up in her eyes as she mutters an apology. An apology that should be to Satoru and not you. “I don’t know what came over me… I told him I loved him and he just– Just ignored me.”

“Ali, that’s no reason to betray your boyfriend.” You argue, and she buries her face between her hands. She cries, only making you feel guilty for even questioning her actions. You cross your arms and look away, refusing to feel guilty for her disloyalty.

“Please don’t tell him– I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.” She pleads and you feel a heavy weight settle in your heart. No, you should tell him. Satoru doesn’t deserve this. 

Ali wraps her arms around you, resting her face on your shoulder as she continues to sob. “Please, you’re the only person I can count on.”

“Ali–” You begin, but you cut yourself off. You take a deep breath, before agreeing, “Fine. I’ll keep your secret.”

Guilt is eating you alive. The very next day, Satoru comes over and you can’t look him in the eye. You ignore him the entire time, and he notices something is up with you, but he won’t question it. If you don’t want to talk to him, then it’s your own issue. 

You feel like the responsibility of confessing to him is on your shoulders. But you don’t want to betray your best friend by doing so. She’s made her own decisions about her relationship, if you snitch the blame shouldn’t fall on you… But you still feel like it isn’t your position to tell. You’re not friends with Satoru at all, you’re friends with Ali. You feel like you’d be betraying her, not only because she’s your best friend but also because you happen to like her boyfriend. 

You’re nearly driving yourself insane as you think about it. Ultimately, you decide to stay out of it. Satoru is going to find out in his own way eventually; you’re a firm believer that the truth always comes to light eventually, and in this situation you refuse to be the catalyst. And you certainly don’t want to lose your friendship by telling him.

That is until the doorbell rings, a little later than usual on a Tuesday night. Ali isn’t home, leaving you alone to welcome the uninvited guest.

“Satoru, what are you doing here?” You question, surprised at his presence. He should know that Ali is at a brand event right now, after all, she’s gloating about it on any and every social media platform. “Ali isn’t here right now. She won’t be here in a while.”

“Actually, I’m here to talk to you.” He confesses, and you feel your stomach churn. You feel nauseous as guilt takes over you. Does he know? Is that why he’s here? He’s most definitely here to question you, and you feel nervous. 

“Oh… What is it?” You try to smile to hide the fact that you’re freaking out. But it comes off as disingenuous, and Satoru is not an idiot that won’t notice it. He’ll choose to ignore it though.

“Can I come in?” He asks, and you move to the side, inviting him to the apartment. He steps inside, and looks around the place. There’s a different vibe to the apartment when Ali is gone… It feels oddly comforting. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” You offer as you shut the door. But he shakes his head, and you feel oddly relieved by that answer. He’s not going to be here for a long time, so he’s not going to bring it up.

Before saying anything, he takes a seat on the couch. He looks around the place for another minute, and he notices that you choose to stand instead of taking a seat. You couldn’t make it any more obvious. He clears his throat before speaking up, “Is everything okay between us?”

“Yeah! Yeah, why wouldn’t they be?” You’re stumbling over words, making your statement sound false. He’s quick to spot the lie, and a frown comes to his face. You can’t keep lying to him, you know.

“Why–”

“She’s cheating on you!” You blurt out, and to your surprise, he looks unphased. You feel the need to explain yourself after his lack of reaction, a response from your nerves. “I swore I was going to stay out of it when I heard her with her friend last week– I thought it was you two again but then I realized that it wasn’t you, and I couldn’t look you in the eye after it. I didn’t want to say anything because she’s my friend but you’re a really good guy–”

And as you ramble, you fail to notice that he’s stood up and he’s taken your hands into his. He’s squeezing your hands to make you calm down as you explain your side of the story. You’re not guilty in any of this, you’re just too damn good of a friend.

“Hey, hey. I’m not mad at you.” He cuts you off when he realizes you’re on the verge of tears. If he’s being honest, he was expecting something like this to happen with her. He’s been waiting for the right moment to end things, and luckily he has the best excuse now.

“I should’ve told you sooner, I’m sorry.” You still apologize. You feel your face get warm as you realize he’s holding your hands, making you jerk them out of his grasp. “But please, don’t tell her I told you.”

“I promise I won’t.” He responds. “Thank you so much for telling me.”

“Satoru, please don’t tell her I told you.” You ask of him once again, and he nods in response. And though the weight is lifted off your shoulders, another worry begins to settle in. But you try to convince yourself that you’ll be fine. If this marks the end of your friendship with Ali, then so be it. In the end, you did the right thing.

Satoru messages Ali on a Friday night, making sure that you’re out of the apartment before coming over. The message gets Ali excited since she thinks everything is going back to normal, especially since Satoru has been acting weirder than usual. The honeymoon stage is supposed to last longer than six months, but for some reason their relationship is going through a dry spell. 

Ali begins to get ready for what she expects is going to be a steamy night. She checks the time every five minutes, waiting for Satoru to finally show up. While she promised you that she wouldn’t do it again, she’s not the type to keep a promise; especially when her needs aren’t being met. 

Meanwhile, Satoru decides how he’s going to break the news… Should he be gentle? He won’t lie and say that he isn’t butthurt about her disloyalty. He’s been thinking about ending things with her for a while, but it hurts his ego to know that she cheated on him. Maybe he should be harsh with her, after all, cheating is not a mistake one should take lightly. And Satoru is certainly mad at the offense.

He’s set on making this as quick and easy as possible, so he’ll be calm with her. He’s grown to not care for her, so being angry will just waste his time. Sure, his ego is hurt but not enough to waste minutes of precious time. He takes a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.

“Pookie! I’m so happy that you’re here!” Ali exclaims immediately as she opens the door. She throws her arms over Satoru, hugging him tightly. Satoru does not return the hug, something that she doesn’t seem to notice.

They step inside, and Satoru awkwardly places his hands in his pockets. He’s not unfamiliar with a breakup, but it’s still awkward. Ali walks to the kitchen to get something to drink for him. Something sweet, just how he likes it.

“I’ve been thinking about you so much. I miss you.” She begins, and Satoru thinks about how to lay it on gently. She begins to tell him about a brand trip that she’s been invited to, and all the magnificent details. 

“Here.” She smiles brightly at him, handing him something to drink. Satoru hesitantly takes it from her hand, swirling the drink in his hand but not daring to bring it up to his lips. She takes a seat on the couch, waiting for him to join her. Satoru remains standing though. “You’ve been so quiet lately.”

“Yeah…” Satoru sounds awkward, but he knows that she won’t pick up on it. Satoru walks to the kitchen to put the drink on the counter, he’s not thirsty right now. 

“Is everything okay?” Ali asks, and Satoru slowly walks back to her. Her eyes keep going back and forth between him and the couch, but Satoru is opting to stand.

“My friend saw you with another guy in a compromising situation.” He finally admits, making her eyes go wide. A simple look at her, and Satoru knows that she’s ready to deny the situation. He has no proof, why is he questioning her loyalty?

“I– I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She begins, immediately giving it away that she’s guilty. She’s as pale as a ghost, something that almost earns a chuckle from Satoru in the very tense situation. He forgets about his hurt ego when he sees her reaction.

“Don’t lie to me. He said everything I need to know, and I trust him.” Satoru changes a certain detail, one that will take away all suspicions that would surround you. She’s taken back by this, and she’s not sure how to respond. She stands up from her seat, taking a step near the man.

“I only did it because you–” She’s getting defensive over her wrongdoings. Sure, she did it but she had a damn good reason– At least that’s what she thinks. “I told you I loved you and you–”

“I can’t tell you I love you when I don’t.” Satoru cuts her off, and her face gets red from embarrassment. She’s still going to hold her head high and defend her actions, even if there’s no good explanation for her decisions. “I was going to end things with you eventually, but what you’ve done is unforgivable. I liked the possibility of us being friends but… I don’t think I can do that either.”

“Satoru, we can talk about this.” Ali begins when she realizes that Satoru won’t care for any reasoning. He’s set on ending things. She’s stepping toward him, and when she’s within reach, she grabs his hands. “We can work things out, let’s not throw everything away–”

“You threw everything away. There’s no way in hell I’d get back with you after you cheated.” He interrupts her once again. It’s just like Suguru said, she’s very superficial. “You told me you loved me, yet you went with the first guy you could find because I needed some time. What does that say about your character or your feelings toward me? Do you even care about me?” 

“I do! I was just– Feeling so low. I was tipsy and made a mistake.” She tries to explain her side, and Satoru takes his hands from her grasp. He doesn’t want to spend another minute here to hear stupid excuses for horrible actions– Horrible actions that hurt his ego but he doesn’t care about as much as he should. He was over with the relationship for a while now.

“I don’t care for a reason. This is over.” Satoru says, taking a step backwards. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be. We’re both mature enough to not make this a bigger deal than it has to be.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but Satoru walks away before she can get a word out. He doesn’t care enough to hear what she has in mind, so she’s forced to swallow her words.

You’ve never seen Ali as devastated as she is now. She’s crying on your shoulder, telling you how much she regrets her actions. It’s good to hear that she’s learned from her mistakes, but you feel extremely guilty knowing that your best friend is heartbroken because you couldn’t keep a secret. Deep down, you know you did the right thing but still feel bad while your best friend is sobbing over her now ex-boyfriend.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do– He was so perfect.” She sobs, and you hear your heart breaking. You should’ve just bit your tongue about it. 

You have conflicting feelings for Satoru, but you were rooting for them. You’d never wish harm on your best friend, and you didn’t tell him with the hopes that they’d break up. Cheating isn’t something that you can keep quiet about, even if it’s a mistake from your best friend.

“You’ll be okay, Ali. He wasn’t worth it.” You embrace her, hand rubbing her back to soothe her. You don’t believe the words leave your lips, but you’ll say just about anything to comfort her. You know her, she’s more upset about the fact that she got dumped than her so-called love for Satoru. 

“You’re such a liar! He was perfect!” She cries, and you can’t argue with it. You’re at a loss of words– What’s the next step that you should take? You can’t reprimand her and remind her that these are the consequences of her actions. “He’s blocked me everywhere. I’ve been trying to message him on social media but I can’t find his accounts.”

“Maybe you should let this go. There’s no way to go back from this.” You try to tell her, but your words fall on deaf ears. You know her, she’s not listening to anything she doesn’t want to hear. Ali wants something, and she’ll get it no matter the cost. 

She’s looking up at you with glossy eyes, desperate to get what she wants. You know the look in her eyes. She’s determined to get back with him, and she needs your help. Before she can mutter something out, you speak, “No. I’m not getting involved.”

“Please– Please, please, please. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She pleads, putting her hands together to beg. You look away, not willing to fall for her trap. You feel the guilt of telling Satoru, slowly eat you alive; you know you did the right thing, but why do you feel so bad?

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea, and you’re a pretty girl. He’s not all that.” You answer, once again not believing a single word you say. You have to make her drop this absurd idea of getting back with Satoru though, and you’re willing to make up any lie.

She takes her head off your shoulder, dramatically crossing her arms and pouting like a child. You let out a sigh, knowing that this stupid idea of getting back with Satoru is not getting dropped any time soon.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like him.” She murmurs, and you feel your face get hot. You don’t say anything because you’d surely give away your feelings by uttering a single word. 

“We’ll talk again when you grow up.” You stand up from the couch, planning to leave her behind to sort out her intense emotions. But just as you’re about to walk away, she speaks up,

“Please, do this one thing for me and then I’ll leave you alone.” And you look back at her, the desperation in her eyes getting to you. She’s in this position because of you. The least you can do is help her out.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips before you mutter out, “Fine.”

Ali has an insane power over you, and it’s clear when she strings you along in her ridiculous plan. Though there is no plan, she just wants you to show up at Satoru’s place and beg. She can’t show up anymore since he threatened her with a restraining order (thinking about it, you’re not sure why you agreed to come), so she pushed you to show up. 

Though you aren’t exactly doing what she wants you to do.

You texted Satoru in the morning, asking him if you could meet up to talk. Surprisingly, he agreed. You have no idea how to proceed though. How will you even bring up the topic without getting completely turned down?

Your mind is racing to find the answer as you sit down outside the café. You’re bouncing your leg, feeling your nerves rise as you wait for Satoru’s arrival. Ali is inside, trying to hide as her stupid plan unravels. You’re like her puppet, and you fail to notice.

“Hi.” You’re startled by a welcoming voice. You look up to find Satoru with a subtle smile on his face. You stand up to greet him, though he assures you it isn’t necessary. 

His eyes look you up and down, and your face gets hot at the mere thought that he’s checking you out– No, it’s absurd. He wouldn’t be into you in any way. Ali is his type, and you’re nothing like her.

“I’m going in. Do you want anything? I heard you also like sweet stuff.” Satoru offers, and you’re about to shake your head since you don’t want Satoru spending a single cent on you; but then you remember Ali is also inside.

“I’ll get it, what do you want?” You quickly ask and he raises a brow. 

“It’s fine, I need to walk a little more before stuffing my face.” He replies, and you insist. He lets out a chuckle at your insistence before telling you, “I’ll ignore Allison, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh– You know about that.” You awkwardly respond, and Satoru nods.

“You don’t think I’m dumb enough to not know, right? You’re too good to her, you wouldn’t reach out even though–” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. He doesn’t want to embarrass you. “I know you’re here for her.”

“Then why did you come?” You question, earning a shrug for him. Before you can pressure him to give you a proper answer, he walks inside the café to get himself a treat. You take a seat once again, and instead of focusing on your initial goal, your mind fills up with questions. 

He’s not here because he likes you… Right? No. Absolutely not. You quickly shake that thought out of your head. It’s not that you’re not beautiful, but compared to Ali you’re nothing. Your whole life you’ve always come second to her, and this situation is no different. Even if Satoru were to make a move on you, it’d be to get some sort of revenge on Ali. 

As your mind races and goes through every possible scenario, Satoru comes back with a coffee and two treats. He places a delicious dessert in front of you before sitting down across from you. Your eyes get big at the sight of the sweet dish, your mouth salivating. It sure manages to push away any and all thoughts that were flooding your brain. 

“What is this?” You ask, and he looks like he’s fighting back a smile.

“Just thought you might like it.” He acts unbothered. You lick your lips, about to taste the dessert but you end up holding back. You simply watch him sip on his beverage. You’re reminded that you’re here to help Ali out.

“How have you been holding up? Has the breakup been hitting you hard?” You ask, though you know the question is useless. Satoru has never looked better. A great weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and it’s noticeable. 

“Sure, you can say that.” He chuckles, taking the question as a joke. “Give me your proposal. What is she offering?”

“Apologies.” There’s an unintentional mocking tone in your voice. Satoru’s brows raise as he picks up on it, but he quickly assumes that you don’t do it on purpose. “She really is sorry, Satoru. She regrets her decision, and she really misses you.”

“That’s good to hear.” He says, and before you can say anything, he speaks up again, “I still don’t want anything to do with her. You of all people should know that cheating isn’t the only thing that led to this.”

“Ali is a good person… She’s just out of it sometimes.” You defend her, and Satoru laughs. “She misses you so much, and it hurts to see my best friend in this much pain.”

“You’re too good for her.” He replies, and you hate to hear those words. She’s your best friend, you’re not too good for her– You’re just doing everything that a best friend should be doing.

“I’m doing what I should be doing. She loves you, Satoru.” You point out, and he scoffs. She told him that she loves him, but that’s hard to believe. Satoru’s gotten to know Ali, and he knows that she has a certain way with words. She’s not very convincing to Satoru though.

“Why should you be involved in this? You’re a great friend, but she’s not one. If she was, she wouldn’t get you involved in this.” Satoru responds, and you sigh. You don’t want to begin that conversation, mainly because you know there’s some truth to his words. 

“I should get involved because she’s suffering.” You argue, and Satoru wants to laugh. Suffering, right. She’s too self-absorbed to care about someone else. 

“Can’t she just get a new boyfriend? Why does it have to be me?” He asks, and you furrow your brows. 

“What do you mean? Who else would it be?” You question. “You can’t easily fall in and out of love.”

“She’s not in love with me though. She just likes attention and expensive things, something a lot of other men can offer.” Satoru points out, making you bite your lip. He’s not entirely wrong but you still choose to defend your best friend.

“She does love you, Satoru. She’s been crying to me about this for so long. She misses you.” You defend her, and Satoru clicks his tongue.

“Will you taste the dessert I got you? I want to see if you like it.” Satoru tries to change the topic, and you puff out a breath. It’s not going to kill you to taste it, and you’ll quickly go back to the subject.

You take a small bite, and your eyes light up as you begin to savor the food in front of you. Satoru is watching your every move, finding your expression amusing. For the second, you completely forget why you’re here. 

“Is it good?” Satoru asks, and you excitedly nod your head. It’s good to know that he made the right decision. He watches you take another bite before standing up. The topic of Ali is tired, and he knows that it’s the only type of conversation he’ll get from you today. He knew that the whole reason you asked him to meet up was to talk about Ali, but he doesn’t regret coming.

“Where are you going?” You sound funny, your mouth full of food as Satoru grabs his drink. It’s obvious he’s leaving, but you ask with the slight hope that you’re wrong. 

“For the record, I came here because it’s always nice to talk to you.” Satoru tells you, and you raise your eyebrows in confusion. He clears his throat before pointing inside, “We can meet up again soon, just not with her around.”

“Wait–! We’re not done here.” You try to stop him but Satoru turns his back to you and begins to walk away. 

Unluckily for Ali, you’re not running after him to talk. He’s made his decision and you aren’t willing to interfere in their relationship anymore. And unluckily for you, you know that Ali won’t accept the decision and continue to press you about the matter. 

Satoru furrows his eyebrows as he sees the long line of the shop. He thought that showing up early would reduce the amount of people in the place, but he’s been proven wrong. He can’t help but sigh, knowing that he’ll spend at least twenty minutes waiting just to get a treat. But all the time in line is worth it.

Satoru looks around the place, hoping that he’ll find something– Even if he stands so far away that he can’t make out anything he sees. He freezes when he sees a familiar head of curly brown hair, way ahead in line. He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment before stepping forward.

“Which one should I get?” You mutter yourself, mouth watering as your eyes scan all the desserts behind the glass. 

“The macaroons look good.” You’re startled by an all too familiar voice. You put your hand over your heart, feeling as if it’s about to beat out of your chest as you look at him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, as if it’s impossible for you to end up in the same place. You know he has a sweet tooth as well, it shouldn’t be a surprise to find him here. You look back, and see the long line behind you. “Oh, you’re using me to cut line, I see.”

“Can’t you believe I just wanted to greet you?” Satoru responds, and you chuckle. 

“It’s fine. You can use me.” You respond, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. It’s weird to talk to him without using Ali as an excuse. “I’ve been waiting for a while, it’s fine.”

“Did you just get off work?” Satoru asks and you nod. “What do you do? I’m sorry I never–”

“Hurry up! We’re waiting!” Someone cuts off the conversation, and you feel your face get warm from embarrassment. Satoru glares back at them, as if he has the right. He did cut the line, but he doesn’t care. 

“I’ll take two of those.” You tell the worker behind the counter. You don’t even look at the food that you’re pointing at, you just want to get out of line. “Pick what you want.”

His order is more intricate than yours. It’s clear that he would’ve waited an hour if he had to.

“I’ll pay.” He insists when you get to the register, and you want to argue with him that you got yourself covered. But he pays before you can even open your mouth.

“Thank you.” You’re forced to thank him when you exit the store. You expect to go your separate ways, after leaving the place but Satoru offers,

“How about we take a seat? I want to talk to you.” 

“Oh– Yeah.” You respond. You bite down your lip before telling him, “I’m a tech analyst, by the way.”

“Huh– Oh, yeah.” Satoru replies. He stares at your face for a moment before letting out a low laugh. “I would’ve never guessed.” 

“Well now you know.”

Ali calms down a couple of months after her breakup with Satoru. She certainly leaves you alone about the matter which you’re grateful for. You’re more than willing to help your best friend with any issue, but her relationship with Satoru is a mess you’d rather stay out of.

Knowing Ali, she’s certainly not given up on Satoru. She’s just leaving you out of the mess, and by doing so, she’s completely forgotten about you. Even though you miss your friend, you certainly don’t mind not being involved in her romantic issues.

You know that she’s looking for ways to get close to Satoru again, not knowing that using you again would actually offer some sort of result this time around. But you wouldn’t dare tell her. 

It wasn’t something you planned out, it just happened. Your shared love for sweets led you to the same shop in town– And you keep meeting up by chance. There aren't many shops in the area like that one. Sure, you can buy a dessert anywhere, but you won’t find the variety and quality anywhere else in town; it’s what attracts you two to the same place.

You met a handful of times by chance, and each time you began to talk. Conversation flowed smoothly each time, which led you to talk more on the phone. Now you’re texting to meet up, agreeing to grab a sweet treat at least once a week. You slightly feel guilty for meeting him behind Ali’s back, but you know that you aren’t doing anything wrong.

You’re simply friends with Satoru. Everything is completely platonic.

“I got this for you.” Satoru puts down a little box on the table, sliding it over to you. Your eyes narrow as you try to decipher what’s in the box. You wonder what he’s picked for you. While you’ve gotten close, you doubt that he’s really noticed your preferences in sweets. 

“You didn’t have to, thank you.” You immediately respond, opening the box to find your favorite dessert. Your eyes widen, a smile coming to your face as you realize that he’s noticed what your favorite kind of treat is. It’s sweet to know that he’s noticed. “I really appreciate it, Satoru.”

“It was no problem.” He smiles back at you. He’s always buying something for you, making you feel special in a way that he’d never guess. You almost feel guilty for never getting him something in return.

“Do you want a bit?” You offer, but he quickly shakes his head. He got it for you because he knows that you like it, but he isn’t particularly fond of the dessert that he got you. You look delighted with his response, making Satoru scoff.

“You do know the place has more, right? It wouldn’t kill you to share either.” He says, and you stick your tongue out at him jokingly. “You can enjoy your yucky dessert alone, don’t worry.”

“Yucky? Really?” You respond and he hums in response. “You sound like a child.”

“I can’t find a more fitting word.” He replies which makes you giggle. He can criticize the food all he wants, as long as you don’t have to share. Satoru clears his throat before speaking up again, “You know, I was thinking–”

“This is so good.” You unintentionally cut him off as you taste what he got you. You swear you’re in heaven with the first taste. You don’t understand how Satoru doesn’t like it, but it’s fine, you’re happy as long as you don’t have to share. Satoru chuckles at your reaction.

“I really don’t understand why you like it so much. There’s so many other options.” He says, but you don’t pay much attention to what he has to say. And just like that, the courage for what he was going to say is completely gone. “But if it makes you happy.”

“You know something? You’re actually a really picky eater. I never figured you as the type.” You tell him, and Satoru clicks his tongue. You aren’t wrong though. “I did cut you off, didn’t I? What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, dismissing the topic. You furrow your brows, getting curious as to what you interrupted. 

“Are you sure?” You question and he nods in response. The reason you’re here today is because Satoru texted you that he wanted to talk about something. You seriously doubt that the reason he’s here is to simply give you a free dessert. “I don’t buy it.”

“You’re right.” He sighs. He bites his lip, fidgeting his fingers. He’s feeling nervous, something that rarely comes to him. Satoru has the right to feel confident in every situation– But he’s not sure how to approach this considering the weird dynamic that you have. He finally spits out, “How about we go on a date? Would you like that?”

“Satoru–” You’re caught speechless. You slowly blink, feeling as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest. Did you hear that right? You begin to laugh, as if Satoru just told you some sort of joke. “You got me.”

“I’m not joking.” Satoru almost sounds offended by your response.

“I– I can’t, Satoru.” You answer, feeling dirty for even saying that. You like him– It’s no longer a stupid crush anymore. After spending time with him, and getting to know him better, you’ve realized that you like him as a person. You’re not just attracted to him. You can picture a future with him, although you shouldn’t. 

“Why?” He asks. He knows you like him, he’s known for a long time. It’s clear that you two have chemistry. You didn’t just say no, you specifically told him that you can’t. “If it’s about Ali–”

“I’m sorry.” You stand up. You walk away, leaving your dessert half eaten. 

“Should’ve known.” Satoru mutters, quickly followed by a sigh. It’s clear that you like him, but your loyalty towards Ali is stronger.

“Hey… What are you doing here?” Satoru opens the door, only to find you completely distressed. It’s almost midnight, so he’s shocked to find you at his door. You look distressed– It’s clear to him that you’ve just woken up, given that you’re wearing your glasses instead of your usual contacts. “If it’s about earlier–”

“We have to talk.” You cut him off, and Satoru moves to the side to let you in. You take a deep breath before stepping into his apartment. You awkwardly look around the place, wondering why you’re here. You’re listening to your heart instead of your brain, you should turn around and go back to your best friend.

“What do you want to say?” He asks, shutting the door behind him. He steps near you, and you feel your breath get caught up in your chest. 

“I was thinking about it… I do like you, Satoru.” You confess, something that isn’t news to Satoru. He’s known for a while. It was clear that you were trying to hide it, so it wasn’t something that concerned him while he was with Ali.

You sigh, “But Ali’s been my friend since childhood. She loves you. I can’t do this to her.”

“Please…” Satoru grabs your hand, putting it over his beating heart. You feel your face get warm, looking up at him to make eye contact. “You shouldn’t be unhappy for her.”

“We make great friends, Satoru. I can’t hurt her like this.” You tell him, hating yourself for the words that leave your mouth. If you were anyone else, you’d jump at the opportunity to be with him, but you can’t do that to your best friend. “I came here to tell you that. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“You know that we’d go really great together.” He tries to convince you, and you know he isn’t wrong. You look into his adoring eyes, feeling your heart skip a beat. “You can’t base your decisions on her feelings.”

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter as your hands go to the back of his neck, bringing him down to meet your lips. You’re not apologizing to him, that part is clear to him when your soft lips meet his. You’re listening to your heart and not your mind for once. Though it swells with guilt, the feeling is overshadowed.

Satoru shuts his eyes, giving in to the soft feeling of your lips against his. You pull away, your gaze meeting his adoring eyes for a moment. You shouldn’t, yet your lips meet again. It starts sweet, but his wandering hands escalate things. Your tongue enters his mouth as his hands land on your ass. 

You feel as if your body is burning up as your tongue presses against his. You need him in every explicable way. Your body needs more. Satoru picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to his bedroom, gently putting you down on his bed. Are things going too fast? Or has this been brewing up for a while? Either way, things aren’t stopping now.

He pulls away, taking off your glasses and putting them down on his nightstand before focusing all his attention on you. He cups your face and lovingly kisses you as your fingers trace down his body and stop at his sweatpants. 

You escalate things by pulling down his sweatpants, unable to waste any more time. You pull away from the kiss. You look up at him with dark, lust-filled eyes. As he pulls away, you push down his underwear. 

You shouldn’t be surprised by his size, but he’s bigger than average. Your hand wraps around the base and you give it a couple of strokes before your tongue circles around the tip. You start off slow and unsure, but quickly become confident as you hear a soft moan leave Satoru’s lips.

You lick his length before fully wrapping your mouth around it, taking as much as you can get. 

You bob your head slowly, starting off slow. It’s not how he usually likes to start off things, but right now he swears he’s in heaven with how your mouth feels around his cock. It feels so perfect around him. 

Your bobs begin to pick up a bit of speed, and he bites down his lip. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself by being too loud, even if it is because you’re making him feel good. He stares down at you, watching as you suck him off with no problem, looking so perfect while you’re preoccupied. He sighs, relieved. 

You look up at him, wanting his approval. He’s a little too caught up in his own feelings, too engrossed with how your mouth feels around him. He can’t form a sentence to praise you on how good you’re doing. 

He grabs the back of your head and pushes your head so you gag on his cock. As gentle as he wants to be with you, he can’t hold back for too long. You’re gagging on his dick, tears filling up your eyes and quickly spilling as he makes you take every inch of his dick in your mouth. 

“Fuck– Fuck-” He moans, watching as a couple of tears leave your eyes. It should be a sin for someone to look so pretty as they begin to cry. He finally lets go of you, allowing you to retake control of the narrative. “Your mouth is too perfect.”

You take his dick out of your mouth, stroking it a couple of times before wrapping your mouth around it again. Satoru’s breath gets caught up in his throat as his release nears. 

He shuts his eyes, throwing his head back, groaning in pleasure as his come hits the back of your throat. You take his cock out of your mouth and before you can say a word, his lips land on yours again.

Satoru wastes no time in getting you undressed. He makes sure to praise every inch of your body, kissing every corner. He wants you to know just how much he likes you, and how attractive he finds you. There is no better way to tell you than just by kissing every inch of your body. 

“Get on all fours.” He tells you, and you waste no time. Satoru takes a moment to look at your pretty pussy before spitting on it a couple of times. 

Satoru aligns his cock with the entrance of your pussy, running the tip through your folds and teasing you. Satoru slowly pushes himself inside of you, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head. You loudly moan as his thick cock stretches you out. 

Satoru’s hands go to your hips, searching for balance before he begins to move. The man can’t help but loudly moan as he feels your tight pussy wrap around him. You’re so perfect, it’s going to drive him insane. He hasn’t properly tasted you yet but he’s surely to get obsessed. 

“It’s so good!” You moan, his cock filling you up just right. You hate to admit that you’ve thought about this moment so many times, but you never imagined it’d be this good. It’s hard to feel guilty when your body feels this amazing.

Your back arches as your head presses against the mattress, muffling any noise that comes from your mouth. Satoru slaps your ass as his eyes watch it jiggle with his every movement. He can’t keep his eyes off it. 

“You’re so tight.” Satoru tells you through gritted teeth. He holds back on moaning, not wanting to sound too pathetic as he fucks you. It’s hard when your cunt is so nice and tight around him though.

“It’s so good, daddy.” You moan, stumbling over your words. Satoru can die and go to heaven when he hears you call him daddy. Everything you do is so perfect, he can’t believe he’s waited so long to pursue you.

One of your hands goes under and you begin to play with your clit, making you squeeze around his cock. He moans your name out of pure pleasure. He’s surely going to be thinking about this for days on end. He’s never felt like this with anyone else. 

“Daddy, it’s so good!” You stop playing with your clit, your hands gripping the silk sheets underneath as your orgasm takes over your body.

“Good girl. You’re doing so good.” Satoru breathlessly praises you, knowing that he won’t last much longer. He isn’t alone though. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, orgasm rapidly approaching. 

Your body finally spasms, reaching your peak. Satoru slaps your ass a couple of times, praising you for being so good and so perfect for finishing around his cock. He keeps telling you how perfect you are, moaning your name. He’s making you feel like a goddess.

Satoru’s thrusts become unregulated. It’s hard for him to contain himself, but he doesn’t want this moment to end. He doesn’t want you to come to your senses yet. He wants to stay like this for a while. Alas, he can’t hold himself back forever. 

He pulls his cock out, coating your ass with his cum. He swears he hasn’t seen a prettier sight– Apart from your face, of course. But your ass being coated with his cum is a close second.

“That was–” Satoru plops down on the bed beside you, as you lay on your stomach. He’s out of breath, and needs a moment. “Amazing.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, staring at him as he looks at the ceiling. 

Maybe you’ll regret it in the morning, but not right now. Right now, you feel euphoric.

Your hand goes to his face, thumb caressing his cheek. He looks back at you so lovingly, and your heart skips a beat.

“We’re not done yet.” You tell him, and a smile comes to Satoru’s face.

He couldn’t agree more.

The sunlight peeks into the room, causing you to open your eyes first thing in the morning. You slowly take in your surroundings, realizing that you’re not back at your place. You feel a heavy arm over your body, cuddling you. It takes you a minute to remember the events of last night before you quickly sit up on the bed.

You feel your face get hot, embarrassment quickly flowing through you. Quickly followed by regret. No, you shouldn’t be here. You do like him, otherwise you wouldn’t have shown up last night… But doing this to your own best friend? You don’t know how you could ever face her again after this.

“Go back to sleep.” A sleepy Satoru mutters, and as much as your sore body wants to lay back down, you can’t. You’re pulling the bed sheets off your body and searching for your scattered clothes. Satoru ends up fully waking up when he realizes what you’re doing. You’re leaving as if this is a one-night-stand.

“Please don’t ever tell anyone that this happened.” You tell him, grabbing your bra from the floor. Satoru’s eyes focus on your ass– Granted, it’s the worst time to focus on your ass, but it’s hard to ignore when it looks so perfect in front of him. Your next words bring him back to reality, “What happened last night shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” He calls out your name, making you freeze in your spot. You’re hesitant to look back at him, but you end up doing it. “You know you don’t regret it.”

“I– I don’t.” You can’t lie to him. You try to continue to get dressed to get out of the apartment as fast as possible. You’re scared that you’re going to commit another mistake if you stay for too long.

“Why don’t you stay?” Satoru asks, and you can’t give him an answer. He knows why, but he needs you to say it for you to realize how ridiculous you sound. “You shouldn’t put yourself second. Ali made her own mistakes, and you shouldn’t pay for them.”

“She’s my best friend, Satoru. She loves you.” You respond, and Satoru scoffs. It’s too early to deal with this. How many times does he have to tell you that she doesn’t love him for you to drop the subject. “I know that she doesn’t deserve another chance with you, but I can’t do this to her.”

“Do what to her? She’s going to move on eventually, and you’re just going to be miserable. You’re passing up on a great relationship for a girl that doesn’t care about you enough.” It’s harsh, but Satoru can’t help but tell you the truth. As painful as it is. If he isn’t harsh with you, you’ll never open your eyes.

“You’re right.” You end up sighing. You take a seat on the bed again, mind heavy with thoughts. 

“If you want this to stop now, we can end it now.” He says, reaching over to grab your hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Just know that we like each other, and there’s actually nothing keeping us apart.”

For a long minute, the room is silent. He’s right, as much as you don’t want to admit it. There’s no reason for you to not be together. Ali won’t react well, but you’re not going to let her dictate your life. 

“You’re right.” You respond, and you watch as his face lights up. “But please, let’s keep this a secret for now. Until I figure out what to say to Ali.”

“My lips are sealed.”

There’s something up your sleeve, and Ali can’t help but notice. She doesn’t know when it started, but one day she realized that the place was dirty. Dishes were piling up, the floor needed to be mopped and she didn’t have a single article of clean clothes. 

Even when you found out that she cheated on Satoru, you continued to do everything for her, so she wonders if something is wrong with you… The place is filthy, time is running out and she refuses to pick up a single dish. You’ve always taken it as your responsibility to do every chore in the house, you can’t just stop now. What could she have possibly done to upset you this time? She tries to talk to you about the subject, but when she knocks on your door, you’re not home.

That’s not the only thing though. When you do come home, she notices you have some expensive items. Items that you’d never willingly spend money on, she knows that much about you. The signs are all there: you’re seeing someone.

“Hi, babe.” Ali startles you when you get home, a little past midnight. You’re a bit disheveled, making it clear what you were up to. She stayed up for you, waiting for you on the couch, and it makes you feel uneasy.

“Hi, Ali.” You sheepishly smile at her, feeling as if you’ve somehow gotten caught. You cover up your tracks damn well, you know that she has no way of knowing that you’re dating Satoru behind her back. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much.” She responds. You feel your breath get caught up in your chest, waiting for her to say something else. You begin to take small, subtle steps to your room as she makes up her mind. “Are you mad at me?”

“No… Why would I be?” You question, though you know why she asks. She’s worried because you’re barely coming around. 

“You’re seeing someone then, right?” She asks, standing up from the couch and stepping towards you. You feel your hands get shaky, nerves taking over you.

“No– Why do you ask?” You slightly stumble over your words, and you hope that she doesn’t notice. You hope that Satoru is right about your best friend when he says that she’s too self absorbed to care about anyone else but herself. 

“You’re here late and…” She looks you up and down, judgment written all over her face. “You look like that.” 

“I just had a rough day.” You claim, trying to play it off. Much to your dismay, she snatches the purse that you hold in your hands. She closely inspects it, trying to check if it’s authentic. You should’ve known better than to accept Satoru’s very expensive gifts.

“It’s real. You wouldn’t spend this much money on a purse.” She points out, and you get increasingly nervous. You snatch the purse back before answering,

“Is it that hard to believe that I would slowly save up for a purse?” 

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes. It’s very clear that you’re seeing someone, but you won’t tell. You’ll come around eventually, she just has to give you the cold shoulder for a while– She’s not too sure if it’ll work this time around. 

She dramatically turns away from you and begins to walk to her room, taking small steps to give you time to speak up. But you don’t say anything. On the contrary, you begin to walk to your room as well.

“You’re the worst.” You stick out your tongue at Satoru, getting mad at the 4+ card that he puts down on the deck. You wish you could easily take defeat, but your boyfriend sure loves to brag about his victories. He drives you insane.

“The worst? Why? Because I’m better than you?” Satoru is so smug about it, and you’re filled with rage. You take deep breaths, reminding yourself that this is just a game. 

“You suck!” You respond, throwing your cards on the coffee table. Satoru chuckles, watching you stand up and head to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water, making him follow like a lost puppy. 

He engulfs you in a hug, filling up your face with kisses. He mutters baseless apologies for his great luck and strategy for the game. You’re trying to push him away, but he’s too overbearing. 

“Hi, guys.” You hear and your blood runs cold as you hear an all too familiar voice. You finally manage to stop Satoru, who looks unphased by Shoko’s voice. You’ve been caught, yet he doesn’t seem to care.

“Jeez, have you heard of knocking?” Satoru finally looks at the woman, who holds up the apartment key. 

“I came here to pick something up. Suguru left his jacket here.” She looks around for the item she came for, not really questioning why Satoru was kissing you. 

“We– We can explain.” You begin, and she furrows her brows in a confused manner as she looks back at you. 

“What is there to explain? Satoru told us that you’re dating.” She answers, and you glare at the man that stands right next to you. He looks just as confused as Shoko by your reaction.

“Was I not supposed to?” He questions, and you cross your arms.

“I told you that this is a secret.” You mutter. 

“Yeah, a secret from Allison. Not my friends.” Satoru reiterates, and you sigh. So his friends know, great. It’s only a matter of time before your best friend finds out as well. You have to find the right time to break the news to her before she finds out on her own.

“Satoru…” You shake your head disappointedly. You want to show off your relationship as much as possible, so you’re not hiding this because you want to. You’re doing what’s best for your relationship for Ali– As selfish as it is to do this to Satoru.

“I’m sorry, I misunderstood.” He apologizes, as a heavy weight sets on your shoulders. You have to tell her eventually, you can’t keep your relationship a secret forever. 

“I have to–” You begin, but you’re cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. Shoko grabs it from the coffee table and hands it to you, a look of annoyance coming to her face on your part. You feel your heart drop, looking back at your boyfriend. “It’s her.”

“Just pick up the phone. She won’t call you unless it’s an emergency.” Satoru tells you. He’s noticed that your best friend rarely communicates with you; granted, unless she needs something from you. 

“Hi, Ali.” You answer the phone, stepping away from Satoru because you’re scared that a single breath from him will get you caught. Satoru keeps his gaze on you as you talk to your best friend. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll be right there.”

“What happened?” Satoru mouths, but you ignore him as you comfort your best friend. You stay on the line for another minute before hanging up. 

“A family member of hers died, and she wants me to go with her back to our hometown.” You answer, and Satoru raises his brows. He won’t ask who, it’s too intrusive. You’re together, but there’s some things about Ali that you refuse to tell him because you feel like you’re telling too much about your best friend. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Satoru isn’t sure how else to respond. You kiss his cheek before walking over to the couch to grab your stuff.

“I have to go. She sounds pretty devastated.” You tell him, and Satoru purses his lips together. The great night that he had planned has been ruined, and for Ali of all people. But he tries to pull his feelings to the side, knowing that there’s a possibility that you’re affected by all of this. After all, you and Ali grew up together. 

“Do you need anything? I can–” He begins, only to be interrupted by you.

“I didn’t know him well, he was one of Ali’s uncles and I saw him maybe a handful of times.” You reassure him, somehow managing to read his mind. “But… Can I ask something from you?”

“Anything.” He responds.

“Please refrain from communicating. Right now is not the time to break the news to Ali.” 

Satoru is slowly dying inside, knowing that he can’t contact you in any way. For two weeks, he’s forced to blankly stare at his phone, hoping that you’ll send him a message. It doesn’t have to be long, just a sign of life from you.

He’s told his parents about you. It’s obvious that he takes this relationship very seriously, and he sees a future with you– One that he never saw with Ali. Which means he’s miserable knowing that he can’t contact you. He counts down the hours till he gets to know that you’re coming back.

It’s fair to say that he’s overjoyed when you finally call. He wants to pick up the phone immediately, but he doesn’t want to seem desperate by picking up within the first ring. He waits a couple of seconds before bringing up the phone to his ear.

“Hi, baby. I miss you.” Satoru immediately says, not helping his case of not looking desperate. There’s only so much he can do though.

“Hi.” You’re not as affectionate as he is, which lets him know that you’re not alone. He wonders why you’re calling when she’s nearby but at the same time he couldn’t give a damn. As long as he gets to hear your voice, he’s happy. “I’m calling to let you know I’m back home.”

“When can we meet?” He quickly asks, hoping that you’ll say tonight. He’s quickly filled with disappointment when you tell him,

“Are you going to Suguru’s party tomorrow night? How about there?” You suggest. He bites down his lip, holding back a sigh. It’s better than waiting for days on end.

“Yeah… I’ll see you then.” He responds, hoping that you’ll say something more. But you end up hanging up the phone before he can get another word in.

He still can’t help but smile, realizing that he’ll finally see you tomorrow.

Satoru bounces his leg anxiously, waiting for you to finally show up at Suguru’s apartment. You’re late– At least a lot of people are showing up before you which is rare. You usually show up early to things, but you’re still not here. Perhaps Satoru is a little earlier than usual today; he’s simply too excited with the fact that he’ll finally see you. It feels like an eternity since the last time he saw your face.

He can’t wait to hold you or kiss you again, which is why he’s impatient. He’s slowly becoming needy by your side, and he isn’t particularly mad about it. 

“Hey–” He excitedly greets you, standing up from the couch to hug you but he freezes in his spot when he sees your best friend right behind you. The smile on his face drops, realizing that his plans for tonight have been delayed even further. “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah… Me neither.” You try to play it off. You watch as your best friend happily greets your boyfriend, only to be ignored by Satoru. 

“Shoko!” You call out, walking over to her since you don’t want to awkwardly be put in the position of being between Satoru and Ali. No matter what you say to her, she’s still going to do everything in her power to flirt with him. As uncomfortable as it is to know that your best friend is hitting on your boyfriend, you know that you’re doing something wrong by dating him so you won’t intervene.

“How are you, Satoru? I haven’t seen you in a while.” She begins, only for the man to completely ignore her and follow after you. He doesn’t bother to hide it, but he knows that she won’t notice. She thinks that you’re beneath her, she doesn’t think that he’s following after you. 

“What is she doing here?” He asks you as he approaches you. He interrupts Shoko as she speaks to you, and Shoko crosses her arms, annoyed that she’s been cut off by Satoru.

“They’re best friends, why wouldn’t she be here?” Shoko argues, and Satoru clicks his tongue. 

“I didn’t ask you.” Satoru glares at Shoko. Knowing Suguru, he most definitely didn’t invite Ali. 

“She’s feeling a little down and asked if she could tag along.” You answer, and Satoru hates the fact that you’re such a great friend– Especially to such an undeserving woman like Ali. Satoru gives you an unintentional but nasty look and you kiss his cheek, “I couldn’t say no to her–”

“She saw that.” Shoko quickly tells you, and you begin to panic only for Shoko to laugh in your face. “I was joking, but man, that look on your face is priceless.”

“Shoko!” You yell and she laughs even harder than before. You roll your eyes at her before turning your attention to Satoru,

“I think it’s best if we stay away from each other for the night… I’ll come over after the party.” Which makes the man sigh. He got too excited for tonight, only for Ali to ruin it all. “I don’t want her to think something’s up if we’re attached to the hip tonight. She’s still very fragile.”

“Fine.” Satoru agrees. As much as he thinks that Ali is undeserving of you, he won’t go against your wishes. Though his night had suddenly turned sour.

Ali has lost track of time. She’s been chasing around Satoru the entire night, all to no avail. It’s like he’s running away from her. But that doesn’t seem plausible in her head. Why would Satoru want to run away from her?

She asks around, hoping that one of his friends can pinpoint where Satoru is and lead her to him. She doesn’t seem to realize that the majority of the people she talks to are Satoru’s friends, all who know the type of person she is. All of them who luckily keep their mouths shut about you.

“Where is he?” She questions, going upstairs when she comes to the realization that he isn’t anywhere on the first floor. Is he upstairs with somebody else? Surely Satoru hasn’t moved on yet… Right? No, he wouldn’t.

Ali chases after him, hoping to have a conversation with him where she can explain her truth. Her side of things about the very straightforward mistake that she made. She hopes that a couple of tears are going to be able to move him. After all, who can say no to her? 

She confidently opens a door, only for her eyes to widen when she sees what’s happening. Her blood runs cold before it begins to boil at the sight. You’re on top of Satoru. You’re kissing him. He’s kissing you back. 

No, this can’t be happening. She pinches herself, checking if what she sees is a dream. But no. Satoru has moved on, and with you of all people. How pathetic. Satoru Gojo can get just about any woman he wants and he’d choose you?

“What the fuck?!” She yells, causing you to come to an abrupt stop. Your eyes widen at the sight of your best friend, and you begin to panic. But before you can even get a word out, Ali grabs a handful of your hair and pulls you off Satoru. “You stupid little bitch.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You cry out as she begins to hit you. You’re not doing anything to stop her because it’s something that you genuinely believe you deserve. A good friend wouldn’t date their best friend’s ex-boyfriend. 

“Allison, let go of her.” Satoru tries to pull her off you, but he’s unable to unless he uses force. He doesn’t want to harm Ali in any way, knowing that it’ll upset you. Even when she’s pulling your hair and scratching you like a cat. 

“You call yourself my best friend and this is what you do?! You’re a stupid homewrecker.” She spits on you, and it drives Satoru over the edge. He’ll deal with the repercussions later but he can’t stand to watch it. He forcibly pushes Ali off you, making her back harshly hit the wall.

“Are you okay, baby?” Satoru cups your face, thumb going over the scratch on your cheek. It’s bleeding. Tears are streaming down your face, completely ignoring what Satoru says as you apologize to your best friend.

“I’m sorry, Ali. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” You sob, but she’s not listening to what you have to say.

A couple of people are gathering around. They heard some commotion, and of course, they had to come around to see. All to add to your embarrassment. 

“You stupid bitch!” Ali yells again, trying to reach for you but Satoru doesn’t let her. Someone steps in to hold her back, but that doesn’t stop the barrage of insults that roll off her tongue.

“I’m so sorry.” You continue, trying to pay no mind to the insults that she spews. You’re trying to block them out, but they still hurt like hell.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Satoru tries to get you to look at him, but you keep your focus on Ali. The woman that you’ve betrayed.

Even when she’s taken out of your line of sight, she’s the only thing on your mind. No matter what you do, your friendship will never be the same.

You should’ve known that Ali wouldn’t stop at dragging you by the hair and hitting you. The woman that you’ve lived with for years is vengeful, and she wouldn’t change a thing for you of all people. Though you didn’t do anything to change it because you believed you deserved it.

The very next day, Ali had changed the locks to your shared apartment. When you managed to get inside, you noticed all of your clothes and accessories destroyed all over your room. It was fine. You deserved it. Even though Satoru reassured you that you didn’t, you still believed she was right to do it.

A week later, your car’s tires were slashed, and two of the windows were broken. To top it off, Whore was keyed on it. You called Satoru about it, complaining that you’d get late to work– Something that annoyed Satoru. It was clear who the culprit was, yet you refused to do anything about it because it was Ali. You believed you deserved it even though you didn’t. 

Satoru knows that you can stand up for yourself, he’s seen it before, so why can’t you do it with Ali? He knows that you’ve spent a lifetime together, but that’s not a good reason for you to let her walk all over you.

But no matter what he says, you won’t do anything to stop her. You apologize for what she’s done to you. Ali can ruin as many cars as she’d like, he can easily replace them; however, it pains him to see you suffer because of her. 

Satoru won’t overstep, not until he receives a call a little after five, and you sound completely distressed.

“I– I can’t do this anymore, Satoru.” You sob, and he quickly becomes alert. 

“What happened? Are you okay? Do I need to pick you up?” He asks, quickly searching for car keys to leave and pick you up. Whatever it is, he knows that it’s tied to Ali.

“I’m covered in eggs. Some of her crazy followers know where I work and they–” You sob, and Satoru feels his heart break as you explain the situation. He can only hope that you finally open your eyes and realize the type of person Ali is. “I can’t do this anymore, Satoru. We should end this here.”

“Wait– No. Absolutely not. You’re not letting her win.” Satoru quickly responds as he exits the house. He’s going somewhere– Either to your apartment or your workplace to talk to you. No, he should go to the police station to deal with Ali. She needs to be stopped, and it’s clear that you’re not going to take action.

“I’m not letting her win. I’m tired.” You sound completely defeated. It’s not easy to deal with constant harassment. “I’ve been getting death threats nonstop all week. I’m genuinely scared for my life now.”

“Come live with me.” He offers, but you doubt that it’ll fix anything. “I’ll protect you, but please.”

“It’ll just drag you down with me, Satoru.” You respond, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “I don’t want you to get affected by her craziness.”

“I love you.” He blurts out. Ali made the same attempt with him once upon a time, but he actually means the words that leave his lips. “I don’t mind being affected by her craziness because I love you.”

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” You’re about to hang up the call before he can change your mind. But he successfully manages to get another word in.

“I promise I will make all of this stop. Just come to me, please.” He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and that’s the last thing you want. You just want all of this to end, you want your best friend back even if she’s clearly awful, and you want to live in peace. “I will fix it all, even if I have to beg her.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” You end up hanging up the phone, leaving Satoru with a broken heart. But as much as you care for him– You can even say that you love him, but you can’t keep doing this. It hasn’t even been a month, but your life has been a living hell. 

You hear some loud laughter from Ali’s room, and you furrow your brows as you hear it. It’s cackling. It feels as if she knows what happened to you, and it’s causing her joy. 

You know that you should walk to your room, and ignore her. You’re apartment hunting, you know that you can’t live under the same roof for too much longer. Instead of seeing what she’s up to, you should lock yourself in your room and figure out a way of how to get out of here. 

But you can’t help but press your ear against the bedroom door to hear what she’s doing.

“I would’ve killed to see the look on that bitch’s face. Can you send me the video?” You hear, and you don’t have to listen to another word. You know she’s talking about you. “It’s only a matter of time before she breaks up with him.”

And those words send you over the edge. You clench your fists as your blood begins to boil. That’s all she wanted, for you to end things with Satoru, and you’re not going to let her have her way.

You love Satoru, and you’re not going to let her ruin things between the two of you. She might be miserable with her life, but you’re not going to let her drag you down with her.

You grab your phone and don’t hesitate before calling Satoru. You begin walking to your bedroom, getting ready to have a long heart-to-heart conversation with him. 

“Satoru…” You say when he picks up the phone, unsure of how to proceed. An apology is in order but should you tell him that you want to get back together first? Maybe you should ask him to meet up first, having this conversation over a phone call seems improper.

“You’re calling because you regret it.” He says before you can get another word out. He can read your mind so well, it’s ridiculous sometimes. 

“I do.” You can’t help but awkwardly chuckle. “I love you too, Satoru. I’m sorry.”

Ali quickly realizes that she isn’t untouchable when she messes with your car again– Not that you would do anything against her. She might be horrible to you, but you still treat her like the little girl that was once upon your best friend. Her error lies in messing around with a car that’s under Satoru’s name. 

“I can’t believe she did it again.” You comment, still in your pajamas as you look at the damage. You’re staying in Satoru’s apartment for a while, and you would’ve sworn that she wouldn’t do anything while you were staying with him. But now your car is completely destroyed.

“You sound unphased.” Satoru says, taking pictures of the damage. “You shouldn’t be used to this.”

“She’s going to chase me for the rest of my life. I’m convinced.” You answer. “By the way, can you drop me off–”

“I got you.” He cuts you off, and you kiss his cheek. You couldn’t be luckier. Until he opens his mouth to speak again, “But after we talk to the cops.”

“Satoru–”

“They’re already involved. I’ve been working with some people behind the scenes, and we’re building up a harassment case against her.” Satoru interrupts you, and you feel your heart stop. “It’s going to stop whether you like it or not. That woman won’t leave you alone no matter what.”

“Okay…” You sigh, giving him a subtle nod. You can’t stop him. Either way, you know he’s right. She won’t stop unless she faces some serious consequences. “For how long is she–”

“So far three years.” He reads your mind. “If she pulls something else, we can make it four.”

“That’s not too bad.” You answer, though you don’t believe it. You feel guilty for not stopping him, but he’s right. You know he’s right.

Ali has beaten off more than she can chew, and unluckily for her, Satoru won’t let her get away with it.

You couldn’t be happier a year after your friendship with Ali ends. You were so caught up in the past, that you failed to realize that Ali was a negative in your life. Even though you can’t help but miss the bond that you had once upon a time, you’re excelling without her.

Satoru made sure that Ali paid for her behavior. He got law enforcement involved and she was penalized with a year in jail, and with a hefty fine that ensures she stays off your back. When she found out, she begged that you’d help her but you refused. You listened to Satoru for once, and left her to deal with the consequences of her actions. 

Your social life couldn’t be better without her. You’ve gotten close to Shoko, and now consider her as your best friend– And your friendship is so much different than the one you had with Ali. You notice it’s much healthier than whatever you had going on with Ali. Shoko genuinely cares about you, and you feel appreciated by her side. 

Romantically, things couldn’t be better either. Satoru loves you like no other, and he lets it be known. He treats you like his queen, always spoiling you and letting you be right even when you’re so clearly wrong. 

Though there’s something wrong with him lately. He’s been acting odd around you, and you can’t help but feel nervous… As if you’ve done something to upset him. So it comes as a shocker when he invites you on a date out of the blue.

“Where are we going?” You question him as you look out the window. He’s singing along to his favorite song as he drives you to your destination. He completely ignores you, which makes you nervous. “Satoru.”

“I told you, it’s a surprise!” He exclaims, and his tone takes some weight off your shoulders. He sounds playful… So it can’t be too bad, right?

“Can’t you give me a hint?” You question, and Satoru shakes his head. He’s smirking, which annoys you. He has something up his sleeve and it’s written all over his face.

You finally get to your destination, and no matter how much you bug him for an answer, he refuses to give you a response. You furrow your brows when you realize you’re at the beach. It’s a little late for a beach day, so you’re questioning what you’re doing at the place.

“What are we doing here?” You ask him, but he refuses to give you an answer. Instead, he grabs your hand when you exit the car and drags you along. You’re not letting him get away so easily. “You’re so quiet today, what are you up to?”

Your eyes narrow as you see an odd scene at the beach. Are those… Candlelights? Rose petals? Oh, someone is getting proposed to, that’s good for them. It makes you wonder when Satoru will do the same— It’s not like you’re expecting it any time soon but seeing that makes you wonder.

Then it hits you. Satoru makes an abrupt stop and gets on one knee. Yes, someone is getting proposed to but it’s not a random stranger. Satoru is proposing to you. Your jaw drops, quickly followed by a gasp of pure disbelief.

“I love you so much—“ He begins his speech and you’re pinching yourself to check if this is reality. Two years ago you wouldn’t have imagined that Satoru would be proposing to you of all people. He’s in love with you. 

“Yes!” You exclaim, even when he isn’t close to being done to asking his question. “I’d love to marry you!”

Tears of joy well up in his eyes as he slides the very heavy rock on your finger. It fits just perfectly. Satoru stands up from the ground, kissing you ever so lovingly. After all, you are doing him the grand honor of becoming his wife— Allowing him to become your husband. 

He picks you up from the ground, spinning you around as if you were his prized possession. He tells you over and over again, “I love you, dear. So much.”

“Put me down, Satoru!” You chuckle, and he does as you ask of him. But he doesn’t let you go before filling your face with kisses first.

You would’ve never imagined that you’d end up here with him, but you did. And you couldn’t have asked for a better destiny.

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part V

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

playlist, part I, part II, part III, part IV

Warnings: toxic!p, language, sexual themes, themes of cheating etc

Wordcount: 5.8k

A/N: WE ARE BACK! no smut in this one sorry ik you love it but i think this a bit of a turning point in the fic :) again pls send me feedback and live reactions! it's the best part of writing this series ANYWAY GO READ ty for everything you guys do

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We’re both sweaty, my skin sticking to hers as we try and catch our breaths - that fourth round had really done us in. If it hadn’t been for me, I’m sure the blonde next to me would’ve gone for fifth. That damn athlete’s stamina. This had become a daily routine the past week, ever since our sleepover.

“You stayin’ over, right?” Paige asks, hand in my hair brushing through it gently. I consider it, the idea of falling asleep in her arms, getting to wake up being held tight by her warming me, but in the back of my mind there’s something gnawing at me. I’m pretty sure I had something to do tonight. Oh right. Jay. Shit.

Clumsily climbing out of bed and pulling on my clothes with urgency makes Paige let out a confused chuckle as she sits up, watching me closely. “Damn ma, chill, you can go if you want.”

“No, I just-” I mumble through my red knitted sweater, pulling it over my head. “I was supposed to see Jay.” In fact Jay had insisted we celebrate because it’s been exactly a month since we started seeing each other. I didn’t really get it. Maybe if we were actually dating, and even then just after one month felt… Excessive to me. But she had insisted.

Paige goes uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, a hint of something unfamiliar on her face as I pull up my flared yoga pants. I check myself in the mirror, mascara smudged over undereyes, lipstick all over my face and my perfectly styled blowout matted at the back - I looked completely fucked out. The hickey on my collarbone, and the smell of Paige’s cologne on my clothes didn’t help my case.

“Paigeee!” I groan at the reflection staring back at me, scrunching my face as I force my long brown locks into a high ponytail, but the blonde sitting behind me on her purple comforter remains quiet, eyes low and face stoic. It’s so unlike her I turn around, tightening my pony as I watch her concerned. “P?”

She finally lifts her gaze from the corner of her room to meet my face, smiling weakly. I could tell something was off, and it made my stomach stir. Before I can ask Paige leans her head against the wall behind her, looking to the ceiling and taking a deep breath.

“You sure you can’t stay?”

It sounds vulnerable, almost pleading if I didn’t know better. For a moment I waver, but instead I brush it off, turning back to the mirror and fixing my makeup while Paige watches on the bed.

“Nah, she wanted to celebrate our one month… Something,” I murmur, reapplying the maroon lipstick.

A deep sigh from Paige fills the room as she fidgets with her hands before bringing them up to her jaw, rubbing it.

“Why are you with her?”

“Huh?” I ask, turning to her but she won’t meet my gaze.

“You heard me, why are you with her?”

I’m baffled, astonished by the question. A blush rising to my cheeks I suddenly feel defensive for some reason - mostly because there was no good reason. Jay was nice enough and I liked her company. Sometimes. But at least I knew for certain she would never do what Paige had done to me in the past. Never.

“Because she’s good to me! How’s that any of your business anyway?” my voice rises as I ask, my arms crossing but Paige is quick to get up and walk over to me, pulling me into a hug.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you right,” she quickly lets out, rubbing up and down my back and the anger immediately subsides. “Stupid question, sorry.” She sounds almost scared. I had never heard her sound like that. Trying to understand what it meant made my mind turn to mush so I focus on the way she kisses my forehead and holds my face, our eyes meeting.

“Thursday then? After my game?” Paige suggests, now kissing my neck, making me forget all about who was waiting for me. My eyes flutter shut as I hum, trying to answer.

“I can’t,” I murmur, Paige’s lips doing their best work as her teeth nibble my earlobe making me hiss. “Me and Jay are gonna come watch you play,” I admit breathlessly, making her pull away from me.

“Seriously?” She asks, brows furrowed in annoyance. I shrug, unsure why she was so upset.

“I’ve been beggin’ for you to come see me play and nothin’? But for Justine…?”

“It’s her birthday! I promised I’d do what she wanted!” I argue, my voice rising the tiniest bit once more.

Paige looks at the ground and shakes her head frustrated, breathing heavy through her mouth. I couldn’t help but feel a little bad, I never in a million years thought she cared this much about me seeing her play. I didn’t even care about going with Jay. Honestly, I just wanted to see Paige in her element. I loved listening to her talk about ball, the way her eyes sparkled with knowledge and passion. She might be a piece of shit and an asshole but I really admired her resilience and ambition. If Paige was anything it was incredibly focused and dedicated. Sometimes to her own fault, I thought.

“Besides I bet Claire or-”

“Clara.”

“Right, Clara, will be there to watch you play!” Her name tastes sour in my mouth.

“I don’ care about her, want you watchin’ me!”

“Well I will be watchin’ you!”

“With Justine!” Paige groans with a roll of her eyes, her hands waving around as she speaks. I watch her bewildered when it hits me. She’s jealous. Paige Bueckers is jealous.

“You’re jealous?” slips from my mouth with a confused scoff, making Paige freeze. She looks at me for a moment, debating, then shaking her head.

“No. I just- I don’ wanna talk about it, I don’t wanna fight,” she sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. There’s a hint of defeat in her voice which makes me waver. My annoyance and confusion slip away as I watch the way her blue eyes soften. 

“Let’s not fight Val, please.”

“Okay,” I hum and let her pull me into a hug. As her nose buries into my hair, for a second I think she’s smelling it, inhaling carefully - but I must be mistaken. She had never done that before.

“P I gotta go,” I murmur against her chest, not wanting to but knowing Jay was growing more and more suspicious as time passed. Frankly, we still weren’t exclusive so none of this was technically cheating. Still, I hadn’t told her. I had convinced myself that eventually I would. I just don’t know when.

“I’ll walk you,” she whispers, making me chuckle.

“Yeah that wouldn’t be sus at all huh?”

Paige grins, looking down at me. “Just tell her we’re fucking around.”

With a furrow of my brows I shake my head. “Nah.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Paige is smirking smugly now, staring into me. “Oh because then you’d have to tell her how I fuck you better than she do?”

I blush and roll my eyes. I wasn’t about to admit she was right.

Pushing her off me, I grab my bag from the floor and give her one last glance. She reaches her hand to my jaw and holds it, pressing a tender kiss to my lips making my heart flutter for a second.

“Text me when you’re there ma,” she murmurs against my lips before letting go and opening her door for me.

“I will.”

Waving bye to Jana and Allie too who I’d become friendly with this last week, I walk out of the dorm into the chilly evening, February still forcing me to wear my white puffer jacket. I wrap it around me tightly as I hurry towards Jay’s dorm, trying not to think myself to the grave over Paige’s behaviour  - loving, caring, a different Paige than I knew last fall. I almost wish she was the same as she used to be, the careless player who didn’t let me sleep over or get to know her roommates. Because now I had what I had always wanted from her. Except it wasn’t a dream come true. It was terrifying. My heart wanted to give in, to let myself feel. But I was horrified of what she could do again, how she might hurt me this time.

I’m still in my thoughts when I reach Jay’s door, knocking on it urgently. Before I can even lower my hand, she opens the door, a frown on her face.

“You’re late.” she says, letting me in nevertheless. The room is lit with candles, homemade dinner gone cold on the plates and a bouquet of flowers in a vase - my heart sinks. Not because I missed out on what Jay had planned, but because I didn’t want this. Not from her. I felt like a piece of shit for thinking that this was way too much. But it’s true. 

“Fuck Jay, I’m so sorry. I got caught up at Ted’s. I didn’t know a Tuesday night would be this busy,” I chuckle trying to lighten the mood, seeing a teddy bear with a big red bowtie sitting on the couch, giving me the creeps.

“Whatever Val,” she sighs, clearing the plates away. I watch, not sure what to say.

“Your roommates, where-”

Jay turns to me, tears in her eyes. “I paid them both to be out tonight, to make tonight special. But you didn’t even come.”

“I’m here now!” I say, walking over and grabbing her hands. I never knew what to do when someone cried, I wasn’t the consoling type, I was the advice type. My friends didn’t come to me to be comforted, they came to me to know what to do next. I always had a plan. But this was way out of my comfort zone. I hated when girls cried because of me.

“Look, I’m sorry, it was so busy. I didn’t even realise I was late,” I lie, looking straight into her blue eyes. It’s hard, I don’t like it, but the words slip from my lips more easily than I thought. 

Jay pouts and nods, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It’s not your fault just… next time call.” Her voice is weak. I really felt like an asshole. I had to end it with Paige, I knew I did. I just simply couldn’t. My heart didn’t let me for some reason.

“Okay, I’m sorry Jay. C’mere.” I pull her into a kiss, but it feels wrong, icky almost. She kisses me back though, her hands wrapping around my waist. I catch a whiff of Paige’s cologne on my sweater.

“Let’s order pizza, okay?” I ask against her lips, not wanting to open my eyes and face reality, the tugging of my heartstrings. I felt like I was being ripped apart, stuck between crossroads. I could feel myself falling for Paige. I knew it by the way my heart ached when we said goodbye, the way my eyes were constantly looking for her in a crowd. I was falling for her, yes. But the moment I admitted that the fear would come roaring in, like a tide, ready to bury everything underneath it. She had so many tools to hurt me, so many that she was unaware of. God if she knew how I felt I’m sure I’d never heard from her again. It would ruin everything. Being with Jay was good, secure, the right thing to do. Even if I didn’t feel half as much for her, my heart didn’t flutter for her - at least she couldn’t break it either.

-

Be you. Be great.

I watch the text from my dad flash on my screen, sitting in front of my cubby, legs bouncing nervously. I already knew we’d win today - we weren’t playing anyone special. An attitude Geno would surely smack the back of my head for, but it’s simply true. It wasn’t the upcoming game making my finger tap nervously against the back of my phone, it was the text I had typed out, my finger hovering over the send button, making my stomach flutter.

Miss u Val

“Yo warmups!” KK snaps me out of my trance, my finger accidentally pressing down on the send button. Shit. Now Valerie was gonna know I miss her. 

Sure it had only been a couple days since she was last in my arms, but being away from her made my heart ache. Usually the more I saw a girl the less I wanted to see her. Valerie, however, seemed to have the opposite effect. I couldn’t get enough. Guess it had something to do with the “feelings” I had for her.

“Shit you scared me,” I chuckle, my cheeks turning red as I hide the screen which KK does not miss. She grins at me, elbowing my shoulder teasingly.

“You texting Valerie?”

“Yooo,” I roll my eyes but don’t deny it, a sly smile forming on my face. Raising my brows and scratching the back of my head I look at the shorter girl standing in front of me. “She’s comin’ to watch tonight.”

“Oh forreal?”

“With Justine,” I scoff, standing up to join KK in heading in for the warmups, my jersey on, hidden underneath the warmup clothes. She snorts and shakes her head.

“Crazy work to name a child that,” She laughs.

Nodding, I snort a little. “That’s what I’m sayin’ like.” I might joke, but Justine was the one getting to bring Valerie to a game. Not me. I would take a stupid name like that too if it meant I got to do that.

“You jealous?” KK asks, noticing the way my teeth grind together. I quickly shake my head, not very convincingly, but flexing a little to make up for it. “Nah, I’m the ultimate rizzler remember? Nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

Truthfully? I was a little worried. Taking a deep breath I try to push that feeling away as we enter the court, the seats slowly filling as the crowd makes their way in.

“Bro just tell her how you feel,” KK murmurs as we both stretch, watching some of the girls running around the court.

Her words make me scoff, how naive. “It’s not that simple,” my voice is stern. No one seemed to understand the pressure I was under, not even my best friend. To even suggest something like that felt insane. I couldn’t tell Valerie. Not with a natty on the line, not with all this pressure. 

Besides, what then? She feels the same and we date? I’d make a shit girlfriend, I know it. I was too selfish, an asshole. I wasn’t girlfriend material. Not for anyone as special, as precious as my Valerie. All she did was complicate things. Even now, my head was spinning with the thought of her. As if I don’t have to be at my best, have my head in the game in like an hour. God, I need to get a grip. Maybe I deserved to lose today. I was unfocused, a disappointment.

“Girl you’re an idiot,” KK sighs as we jog up and down the court. My eyes are immediately looking over the student section when her golden brown hair glimmers in the light like a beacon just for me to find her. She’s sitting in the third row, legs crossed in a mini denim skirt, much too short for the weather outside. An oversized black sweater reveals her left shoulder and collarbone, the mark I had left visible to everyone. Bold. I suppose Jay must have thought it was her doing. Boy if she knew. Part of me wanted everyone to know she’s mine. Only she wasn’t.

It’s not just Valerie’s hair, but the gold dangling on her wrist as she brushes her hair back, the rings decorating her fingers and the earrings contrasting against her dark locks that make the whole place shimmer, all because of her. I simply can’t look away. My twisted fantasies of having some sort of ownership over the brunette is quickly interrupted when Justine’s hand wraps around her shoulders and I notice the blonde girl, kissing Valerie’s cheek. My Valerie’s. I nearly trip over my feet, making KK laugh out loud - her laughter echoing around the court, taunting me.

-

“Guys what the hell is wrong with you, we should be up by 20 at this point against a school like this? That was the worst offense I’ve seen in my who-”

Geno’s scolding is ear-piercing as I sit in the dressing room next to the other girls, my elbows leaving red marks on my thighs as I lean against them and wipe the sweat dripping down my neck. My chest heaves as Geno takes turns chewing off each of us, dreading for my own turn.

We were only leading by four pathetic points, and had to struggle even for that. It was all my fault, I already knew. I didn’t need Geno or anyone to tell me that. I was unfocused, making bad decisions, causing turnovers - I even missed a free throw for the sole reason that just moments before I had seen Jay’s lips pressing into Valerie’s. God, just the thought was making me feel sick.

“Paige,” Geno’s stern voice snaps me out of it, my eyes lifting to meet his. But all he does is shake his head, and it’s even worse than him yelling at me. I wanted him to cuss me out, anything else.  “You know,” he simply says and I nod. I did know.

At least now I had the confirmation of everything I had suspected all along. A girl was nothing but a disturbance, a hitch in my plans. I can’t believe I had let myself do this, get distracted because of some girl. A classic fool. And I was about to make a fool out of my whole team too.

Once Geno leaves and gives us some time before the third quarter, I check my phone, my repentant thoughts quickly subsiding when I see the texts.

i miss you too p

fuck you look hot in that jersey

okay biceps you looking swole? when have you had time to hit the gym that much

wish i could come spend the night

My heart flutters, all of it is flattering sure. But it’s the first and last message that get me to take deep breaths. She misses me. She wants to spend the night with me. The weight on my chest eases up.

U should come over after

i can’t

promised jay

Fuck Justine 

Just come up w sumn

you really miss me that bad?

So fucking bad baby

Going to ted’s after the game

ok i’ll figure something out

Something about the texting and the adrenaline from the game made me bolder, more honest.

Valerie?

yeah?

U look gorgous

Gorjes

gorgeous?

Shut up it’s hard to spell :(

student athlete who

Gotta go warm up

paige?

Yeah?

go kill em

-

It’s hard to miss the moment the Huskies walk in, all in a big group in their navy blue Uconn trackies laughing and hyping up the blonde in the middle, whose face is scrunched up as she tells them to chill. I knew Paige well enough that she didn’t mean any of that, she loved the limelight.

All of the second half of the game Paige had been glowing on the court, completely unguardable, the star I always knew she was. With her help the Huskies had won with a 20 point lead despite the rough first half. I could’ve watched her forever. Every shot, every pass, every block had me on my toes, and I swear I was always the first one to jump to my feet to cheer for her. I forgot about the crowd, even Jay next to me. On the court it might as well just have been Paige Bueckers, I wouldn’t have noticed the difference.

“Babe, tell Alex I’m right!” Jay interrupts my thoughts, forcing my eyes to snap from Paige to her sitting around a table with some of her friends, a red partyhat on her head for the birthday celebration.

I blink stupidly, having missed the whole conversation.

“Shots for everyone!!” I hear Paige yell behind me, forcing a crooked smile to grow on my face.

“Uh sorry I couldn’t hear you,” I admit, glancing over my shoulder hoping the tall blonde would notice me eyeing her. She was too busy leaning over the bar, clearly eager for the drinks.

Jay giggles and presses a wet kiss on my forehead. “You’re so cute,” she murmurs. I nearly vomit. 

Suddenly claustrophobic from her closeness, I brush Jay’s hand away. “I need another drink.”

“But you still have some-”

I quickly down the rest of my vodka soda, before standing up and taking quick steps in my boots towards the group of really, really tall girls surrounding Paige, flutters in my stomach growing with each step.

“Valerie!” KK is the first to notice me and wrap an arm around me. The sound of my name makes Paige’s head snap towards my direction, the smile on her face only growing wider when she sees me. Without thinking and before I can stop her, Paige is wrapping her hands around my waist and spinning me in the air, giggling, her head on my shoulder.

“Oh my God put me down!” My command is not cogent, the chuckles making me less convincing. Paige obeys anyway and lets me go, both of us glancing towards the table where Jay is sitting, still immersed in conversation with her friends. Feeling bold, Paige’s hand rapidly slides down my back to my ass, groping it harshly before letting go. The fact that Jay could see only makes me want her to do it again. Maybe I should see a therapist.

“Val I know you’re not working but can you make the Shirleys pleaaaase,” the blonde in front of me begs, her pleading blue eyes almost getting to me. “They’re fire.”

“No! I’m a free woman tonight!” I proclaim, leaning my elbows against the bar. Paige does the same, her side pressing into mine sending jolts all over me. 

“Fine, whatchu drinkin’ ma?” she asks. “Vodka soda?”

“With crush-”

“Crushed lime, I know.”

Paige orders the drink, paying for it without making it a big deal in any way. I always found her smoothness so incredibly sexy. Right now as she stood there, elbows on the bar, chewing on her bottom lip, shower fresh and beaming from the win, I swear I had never felt so attracted to her. It wasn’t just pure lust, but something else too. Something more.

“That third quarter,” I start, the praise immediately causing a smirk to grow on the blonde’s face.

“Yeah? You watched me?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

I smile too, looking down to my feet. “You were born to do that.”

When our eyes meet again there’s a hint of something vulnerable and genuine in Paige’s expression. All the other noise seems to quiet down, leaving us in our own bubble, just us two. It bursts quickly when I feel a hand wrap around my waist. I know who it is before I even look, evident by the pure annoyance on Paige’s face.

“Hey babe are you fangirling over here?” She jokes, kissing my cheek. I pull away a little but Jay’s a few too many drinks in to notice.

Paige quickly smiles and shakes her head, sipping her drink. “Nah, I was. She makes the best dirty Shirley around, trust.”

I stare into her blue eyes, secretly enjoying this little game we were playing. Tiptoeing the line between strangers and something more.

“Yeah she insisted on getting me a drink for all the times she’s been yelling into my ear to play Drake,” I tease back, my mind immediately going to the many nights Paige had made her way behind the bar, one time even getting on her knees on the disgusting, sticky floor and begging me to let her play a few songs. From the smirk on her face, I know Paige is thinking the same.

Jay’s eyebrows shoot up watching us, clearly surprised. “Hm. No one told me you two know each other that well.”

“I mean we don’t, I just know she works here,” Paige quickly corrects, her brows furrowing as she points to me. “Your name’s uh… Vivien?”

“Valerie.”

Paige and me both smirk a little, Jay missing it completely. 

“Riiight sorry,” Paige grins, sipping her drink and turning to the blonde next to me. “Sick hat.” She’s being sarcastic.

“Thanks man, it’s my birthday,” Jay answers, a little flustered at the attention she was getting from the girl in front of us.

“Damn, happy birthday,” Paige says politely, patting Jay’s shoulder in a manner only I knew was condescending. 

Excusing herself, Paige leaves me and the blonde girl by the bar, every cell in my body screaming to follow her.

“Paige Bueckers just wished me happy birthday,” Jay says in awe.

-

The girl whose waist I’m holding, kissing my neck might as well not exist - I barely notice her. My stare is locked on Valerie and Justine, giggling and dancing in the corner of the packed bar. They look happy. 

A pang of guilt washes over me momentarily. Here’s Justine who, yeah sure is short, but really seems to like Valerie, takes good care of her. And maybe Valerie would learn to be happy with her if I just let her. The nauseating images of them adopting a dog together, getting married, raising children and growing old with each other flash through my mind. It’s enough to cause a tremble in my lower lip, my eyes welling up. The ache in my chest was trying to tell me something I wasn’t ready to admit.

“Can we go back to yours?” Clara hums, her teeth nibbling on my earlobe when a single tear rolls down my right cheek. I quickly wipe it off, my eyes finally turning to the girl next to me. To my relief she’s too busy trying to turn me on to notice my red eyes.

“Not now Clara,” I murmur, my voice barely audible over the music and chatter.

The girl’s face scrunches up in annoyance as I push her off me, gently but with a firm hand.

“What’s your problem? You’ve been like this all night, it’s like I’m not even here.”

“Not now.” I rub the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes and trying to take calming breaths.

“If you don’t want me he-”

“I don’t want you here Clara, I didn’t even ask you to come.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence between us, the girl next to me staring at me with wide eyes, hurt written all over her face. I wasn’t strong enough to fight how I felt anymore. It was time to face my feelings, even if it scared me.

“This is over, okay?” I admit, my gaze meeting Clara’s. She blinks at me slowly, processing. I feel like I should say something, explain myself. But nothing I could say would make it better so I stay quiet.

In silence, I watch Clara hop down from the bar stool and look at me one more time.

“My friends were right about you.”

With that she leaves Ted’s and relief washes over me. I grab my phone, and type out a text.

I’m sorry but I can’t see u anymore, just got too much going on

I copy and paste it, sending the words to each girl on my roster, not bothering to wait for any responses before deleting their numbers. Zoe, Jenny, Sofia, all gone. It was almost exhilarating, the way my body worked before my brain could catch up. Glancing to the opposite corner of the bar I finally catch Valerie’s eye. I nod my head towards the bathrooms before heading in myself. She’s quick to follow, leaving Justine behind. It was time to be brave, the kind of person who deserved Valerie.

The bathrooms are tiny, both of us making the space more cramped when I let Valerie in, locking the door behind us. Before she can say anything, her big brown eyes blinking at me, I’m kissing her. Not with any other agenda except aching to feel her lips on mine. My left hand cups her face, right hand holding her body close to me by her waist. Hungry for more, my tongue slips between her lips.

“Paige…” Valerie’s voice is soft against my lips, her breathing heavy as her hands hold my hips. 

“Shh,” I hum, my hands gently brushing through her hair as my kisses turn from hungry to loving, our lips slowing down in their dance. After a while we both pull away breathless, our foreheads resting against one another. Before my brain catches up, the words spill from my mouth.

“Leave her.”

Valerie’s brown eyes widen as she leans her head back to look at me.

“I- huh?” 

I swallow, thinking about doubling down for an instant. No. This needs to be it. Be brave Paige.

“Justine. Leave her.” There’s a hint of anxiety in my trembling voice, but the way I stare at the brunette girl in front of me lets her know I’m serious. Her expression is hard to read, the cramped space muffling the sounds of the world outside. In this moment it’s just us. Frankly, I had no idea what I was doing. I might really screw us up now. Lose her forever. But I didn’t have any fight left in me. It was bound to happen.

“Why?” she asks, her dark brows furrowing a little.

I scoff lightly, taking her hands in mine.

“Why? You know why.”

From the way Valerie blinks at me confirms that she did know - this wasn’t just sleeping around anymore, this had gone beyond. We both knew.

My thumbs smooth over the soft skin of her petite hands, the red polish decorating her nails, the chunky gold rings cool against my fingertips. I was trying to be patient, giving her time to process. But the pounding in my chest was making me lightheaded, the anxiety making my cheeks turn red. I felt vulnerable, exposed, terrified. Yet, I don’t speak or hurry her.

“No, stop it.”

Before I realise what’s happening, Valerie pulls her hands away from me, her eyes full of suspicion. My stomach stirs as she reaches for the door but I stop her.

“No, wait, please Val,” I plead, hand on the door handle.

“I can’t do this again,” Valerie cries out, her eyes filling with tears. I reach to wipe them away but she moves back from me. It breaks my heart.

“No ma, ‘s not like that this time. I left Clara, I left all of ‘em. Fuck all of ‘em ok? I don’t want ‘em!” My voice is desperate, chasing the brunette’s brown eyes as she avoids my gaze. 

“I need some air,” she murmurs, unlocking the door. However she doesn’t get far before bumping into Justine’s chest, standing right outside the bathroom eyeing both of us.

All three of us go silent as the blonde girl stares dumbfounded. 

“What the fuck is going on?” She slurs, alcohol evident in her voice.

“Jay I-” Valerie starts but Justine is quick to flip around and take hurried steps towards the exit. I follow the brunette out of Ted’s, the parking lot quiet on a rainy night.

“Jay, please wait! Let me explain!” Valerie pleads, grabbing Justine’s hand but she pushes her away, forcing the brunette to stumble back a little. My fingers flex with anger as I step between the two girls.

“Whoa, yo nuh uh,” I say sternly, shaking my head at Justine who’s looking at me like she might actually jump me. I wasn’t worried, I could take her. “Don’t touch her.”

The blonde scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You can’t tell me not to touch my girl!”

Her girl? I feel anger rising from my gut, heat ascending to my neck and cheeks. I step into her space, looking down at her as I do. 

“Don’t you get it?” I chuckle, an arrogant smirk on my face, basking in the way she had to tilt her head up to look at me. “Val’s not your girl.”

“Paige-” Valerie’s voice is careful behind me, her hand gently reaching for my forearm.

“You wanna know why she been too tired to come over? Because she’s been in my bed, getting fucked like she deserv-”

“PAIGE!”

Valerie pulls me back by my arm, her eyes wide and furious as she looks up at me. The adrenaline was making me bold, I wanted the world to know she’s mine. No one else’s. My Valerie.

“Fuck you both.” Justine slurs, heading back inside the bar, clearly not the fighting type. Deep deep down I wish she had jumped me just so I had the excuse to punch her at least once for calling Valerie her girl.

The brunette lets go of me and scoffs, shaking her head as she starts walking away from me. Suddenly coming to my senses, I follow behind her apologetically.

“Ma, wait.”

“Paige what are you doing?” She cries out, a desperate frustration evident in the way she speaks as she turns to look at me.

I step into her space, hands itching to touch her. Better not. Not right now. Biting my lower lip I sigh and shake my head.

“Sorry it just pissed me off hearing her-”

She’s not listening but profusely shaking her head, eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t understand you, I don’t get what you want from me!” She bursts out. My hands come to hold her shoulders, taking it as a good sign when she lets me.

“I want you Val,” I finally admit. Not just to her but to myself.

“But what does that even mean?!” She’s clearly frustrated, tired of the confusing cat and mouse game we’d been playing since we met. I was tired too.

“Look ma, I’m done with all the other girls, and you’re done with Justine. I dunno what that means but-”

“But what? We date? Become girlfriends? Then what?” She spews. I rub my forehead and eyes with my hand, feeling my head spinning. Maybe I hadn’t thought this through.

“Maybe-”

“Until you find the next girl you wanna fuck? Or freak out again?”

“No Val not this time-”

“How do you know?” She asks, a hint of desperation in her voice, looking for any sign that this was a risk worth taking.

“I uh,” I mumble, my skin turning hot, bringing my hands behind my head, rubbing my hair, trying to soothe myself.

“How do you know, Paige?!” Valerie screams, her big brown eyes pleading with me for a reason. Before my brain could catch up my mouth’s already forming the words. The words I had not had the time to admit to myself yet - that feeling that had been gnawing at me for weeks now. The twist in my gut, the dizziness in my head. I finally understood.

“Because I love you Valerie!”

-

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[catis15]

I'm in gen Z and I've got friends who think like this

I wasn't too sheltered as a kid or a teen so like I don't agree with some but I can see the reasoning. Though the asking to masturbate one is wild, like wtf dude that's just like... A weird thing to ask. Also thought it was like a canon event for some ppl to masturbate to like the idea of ppl they found attractive. I've never done that cuz yeah it feels really fucking weird like dawg I know that person, but ASKING is so fucking wild man 😭

And actors younger than 18 what's that about? If it ain't got sexual content I don't see the problem as long as like workplace abuse isn't happening because it's pretty common to my knowledge in the industry.

Like how am I on the other side of my own generations BS 😂😭 I think I should be grateful??

Don't think not smoking and drinking is a bad thing though lmao. But I know a lot of my friends and I were shamed for sex related stuff by our parents. I mean when I was i think 16 or 17 my mother went through *private* ifykyk messages and continued to shame me for things that were said for a month or so after, even getting my MUCH younger sisters involved by telling them "Leaf is doing nasty things' or "Leaf is doing things she knows she shouldn't" and then she'd directly quote things I said to my partner as a way to embarrass me. Kinda weird looking back on it but my mom's kinda fucked up lol

But I had a lot of friends with similar experiences. It doesn't really create a safe place for what are pretty normal feelings :/

But then on the complete opposite side we have shows like Big Mouth and sites like AO3 where it's a very normal thing to be horny and have kinks and it's not shamed, sometimes even encouraged. We grew up wack y'all lol

So lines had to be drawn SOMEWHERE and for a lot of ppl my age it gets to be a little much

Like I have a friend who hates like any sort of sexual reference to underage characters. Which is totally fair they're underage it's whatever. But it's to the point he gets like defensive about it. And he's the dude who's pretty steadfast in his beliefs, but it got to the point even i thought it was a little weird. Like sometimes he'd get mad about making out or slightly heavier relationships between minors, eich again I can see the thought process, but also ppl are having sex by 16 or 17, and it makes sense that characters those ages would be doing similar things. I grew up reading books where teenagers did teenager things, and I feel like there is a level of age appropriate stuff? Like no dawg don't make full ass bdsm shit for teens but I feel like referenced or even vanilla type shit is fine????

I don't have a license so I can't talk-

Working on it though ;v;

And yeah lmao masturbate it's good for you (no literally there are studies saying it's good to do lmfao, like drinking a single glass of red wine before bed once a night is good for you... Unless your a recovering alcoholic then maybe not)

Sorry went on like a whole tangent lol but I'm bored and wanted to throw my two cents as someone who's got friends who think like op mentioned but I... Don't lol.

weird anti ideology finally leaking out into the mainstream

[coquettepascal]

felicitas and her general

summary: general acacius has caught your attention after being the first mortal to worship you in decades. you only face one challenge: don't get too attached.

warnings: rated g, contains spoilers for gladiator ii, follows the timeline of the movie somewhat, reader is the goddess felicitas (who is the goddess of good luck,) this fic is basically just an add on to the movie.

tags: goddess!reader x general acacius, emotional infidelity, lots of roman mythology stuff, writer is basing all her knowledge out of what she remembers from PJO and HoO, worship, complicated feelings, marcus does not cheat on lucilla physically, yearning, pining, grieving, guilt, major character death(s), stalking (kind of), a lot of obsession/dedication, angst, hurt no comfort but also hurt with comfort.

a/n: i watched gladiator ii and then was too emotionally devastated to finish this fic the way i planned. i really hope you all like this!! also, this fic is also dedicated to my dear friend @pascalssbabyy because she is my biggest cheerleader and i love her <33

wc: 7.2k (not beta read)

It was he who woke you.

A quiet sacrifice in the evening that felt like the freshest breath of air you could have, more intense than what you could have atop any mountain, near any spring. The scent of burning meat and smokey vegetables grasped at your lungs, and you almost choked on it. How long had it been since someone had offered you something so kind? Real food, not just scraps of something they didn’t wish for. 

You’d never complain about how difficult it is to be a minor Goddess, you know that you could be a mortal, but most don’t think of how Gods can fade. It’s a physical process, one where you’d notice how your fingertips passed through things like chalices and bowls, how a spoon slid through your hand once. The clatter of gold on the table was embarrassing, even though you were alone. Nothing about being forgotten, or fading, physically hurt. It was only mentally taxing, knowing that you weren’t as important as you once were, that mortals found you insignificant.

Generals used to come and offer things frequently sometime ago, but you couldn’t even begin to understand how long ago that was. When you’re immortal, or supposed to be, mortal lives seem fleeting. You had taken them for granted, and regret it now, for all you have now are the empty clouds above your temple. 

The last offering you can gather was from a young boy, who wanted to win a board game against his sister the next day. He had given you half a bun with strips of meat. Sure, it was thoughtful, but this was something rich. 

You finish inhaling the offering, and then hear the offerer's voice. But it’s muffled, and you want to see who it is anyways, so you swipe through the clouds and create a window to see. Then you can hear him clearly.

Someone who is clearly a general kneels at your altar, which is chipped and dirty. The ashes of the food are in front of him, smoking still, and you can taste the wealth in his meal. It can’t distract you from him though, he is striking.

Broad shoulders support a heavy, curly, grey, head of hair, which is bowed in honor of you. His body is widely built, sturdy for battle, and his voice is just as powerful. You’re so focused on hearing his voice you only catch the tail end of his request.

“... Allow me to come home safely, if not for Rome, then for my wife.”

Your heart squeezes, and you swear you can feel the ichor gushing through your veins. Scarcely when a General came to give you an offering all those years ago would he mention a wife, only ever wishing for luck in the upcoming battle or war. But here, now, you’ve been given a respectful request and offering. It isn’t a thought in your mind to not favor him now, your eyes closing and your mouth murmuring a blessing to him. It feels intoxicating to use some of your power again, especially on someone who asked for it. It also feels intoxicating to watch this General leave.

He looks around before he goes, seeming to note how degraded your small temple has become. The statue of you that lies ahead of your altar is yellowing, and ironically, multiple fingers have broken off. The General seems displeased by this, sighing as he exits the temple.

His gait is heavy, sandaled steps weighted as he walks down them and into the torch-lit night. You find yourself looking for him even after he’s disappeared from your sight, the warmth of gratefulness hugging around you. Part of you knows better than to play around with the thought, but still you wish to know more about him.

—

It worsens when he comes back. A few times a week he returns, offering rich foods. It’s been a month now, and you are coming back to life.

Fading didn’t feel like anything, but coming back feels like so much more. The first few offerings had your body feeling alight again, like the ichor in you was flowing again, but within the last two weeks you’ve gotten your fingertips back. They were tingling for a day and then the next you were able to properly grasp things again, nothing was slipping through you.

In that time you had also learned his name. A guard had come looking for him one night, and stood behind him whilst he prayed. You had found yourself smiling when he didn’t interrupt himself, instead acting aggravated once he had finished. The guard had apologized for interrupting and let him know that “Your wife wishes to speak to you, General Acacius.”

Acacius. 

You still don’t know his first name, but it is enough. You can think of it when you feel lonely, when you are bored. Something to associate with the offerings, with the blessings. The fact he has been so consistent hints at a desperation, which would usually repel you from blessing him, but he is the only one who seems to recognize you. His efforts are not going to go unseen by you, not when you have so little to do.

You can feel yourself conceding to your need to know him more, but just as you begin to fight yourself again, he shows up.

Tonight he’s dressed a little nicer. Usually he arrives in a plain tunic but this one has golden trim on it, and his hair is a little more tousled. He stumbles into your altar holding something in a cloth, but he’s walking like he’s… drunk? 

Acacius meanders to your altar, grabbing a torch along the way, and then empties the contents of the cloth. It produces a small dessert bun, a Libum, or honey cheesecake, and your mouth waters. So much of the food that is given to you is savory meats, masculine foods that are heavy on the senses, but this is sweet and delicate. You can, of course, eat whatever you’d like. You’re a Goddess, and though you aren’t major, you are still very fortunate.

But this feels thoughtful.

The General drops to his knees after lighting the bun ablaze, swaying slightly, and now you know he must be drunk.

“Goddess Felicitas,” he begins as normal, “I am sorry I am later than usual. Though I don’t know if Goddesses sleep. I was… caught up in other affairs, but I made it in time.”

He is less eloquent than usual and seems particularly focused on how it is nearly past midnight.

“I brought you this though,” he gestures to the half burnt bun. “I wanted to bring you something different than meat and… things. I thought a dessert would be fitting for that task.”

Acacius pauses now. His thoughts are probably muddled from whatever he drank, and you find yourself smiling. Foolery has never been so endearing to you.

“You have been listening to me, I suppose. My requests for luck in battle have been answered, as well as my safety being ensured. Your blessings have brought my wife peace of mind, something I could not previously afford to her.”

He looks so small in your temple tonight. Normally he is not so vulnerable, but his shoulders sag as he mentions his wife. Some sort of shame runs over him at the idea that he could not ease his wife’s worries, but it makes you feel better that you could help. 

“Goddess Felicitas, I come here tonight bearing no requests, just gratitude. Your blessings have soothed wounds I could not see, and I feel like a young soldier again. You invigor me.” 

Then, he leaves. 

You watch helplessly as he stumbles back down the steps and away from your temple, and more than ever you wish to chase him. The love he has for his wife is clear, and you hold no jealousy of that, but you wish it were you. Something in you is deeply attached to this General now. He has awoken you so much more than rekindling your power as a goddess, more than releasing you from the grief that comes with fading. Yes, Acacius has made your heart beat again, your mind curious again, and you feel seen. Being worshipped is not the same as being loved, if that were true you’d have had many children by now, 

But after so long being forgotten, this feels like what you remember being loved as.

—

You try not to interact with the other Gods for the most part. They tend to meddle in things they don’t need to, and are sensitive. You are not exempt from this stereotype, but that’s only more reason for the distance. 

But today, you venture to meet another deity.

Morpheus is not hard to find. He is pretty stationery where he is, usually lounging on a rock or bench near his temple, or above it in the clouds. He is a bit…dramatic, from what you remember, but wise. 

Today he is stretched out on a cloud above his temple, eyes shut. His pale skin stretches taut on his bones as his lean frame breathes deeply. But, he is not asleep. 

“Morpheus,” you speak. 

His body rolls toward your direction, eyes still shut, but a small smile on his face.

“O young goddess Felicitas, what brings you to me?” He questions.

It’s hard not to feel embarrassed. You’ve spoken to Morpheus on very rare occasions, but he’s always been somewhat helpful, though nosy. Dreams tell a lot about people, and when he’s the one giving them to people, it’s hard to hide anything at all.

You don’t want him to know of your true affection for General Acacius, just that he is… worthy of a visit. 

And so you begin to describe it to Morpheus, your need to visit Acacius. He doesn’t open his eyes at all, but he raises his eyebrows a lot and seems bemused at your situation. You’re only halfway through your rambling before he raises a gangly limb and waves at your words.

“Felicitas, you think you are the only Goddess wishing to visit her admirer? You need no explanation,” he says jovially. 

Morpheus reaches into the air and pulls 6 black berries into existence, then drops them into your open palm.

“When you know he is asleep, bite down on one of these and think of him,” he describes to you.

The berries smell like nothing, but a powdery residue is left on your skin as you roll them in your palm. It doesn’t repel you at all.

Tonight, you will visit him and express the same gratitude he did to you. 

—

Marcus lays next to his wife, Lucilla, with her hand in his. She fell asleep sometime ago, leaving him to lie awake by himself.

He didn’t make it to her temple tonight and the guilt is festering in his body. Marcus knows that she is a Goddess, that he probably isn’t a thought in her mind. He knows that he is just another whiney mortal, giving her food that isn’t nearly as good as whatever Gods eat. His insignificance grows as he feeds into his guilt. 

Stress has permeated his life for much of it, from his time as a young soldier up until now, as a General. Battles, politics, and his family, have created a breeding ground for him to be wracked with anxieties, but he stays strong. Thanks to his time in Felicitas temple, it’s been better.

Which is why failing to make it to her temple tonight is making him feel so bad.

He grabs at the linen sheets of his bed, stressing and trying to reassure himself until he falls asleep finally.

—

Being in a dream is weird. It feels much the same as it does when you disguise yourself as a mortal, the out of body experience is semi-familiar, but it’s weird because someone else is there.

You’ve been watching the General enjoy the lake in front of him for a few minutes now. He hasn’t slipped into it, but just walks along the waterline. It seems like he is looking for something. Surely his dreams usually contain more action, or perhaps are memories, so you assume it may be strangely understimulating for him.

The appearance you’ve chosen is one of modesty, but elegance. A seafoam green peplos hangs off your frame delicately, with golden clasps at the wrists and waist. You did your hair so it would be tucked out of your face. There is no guarantee that Acacius will recognize you like this, but you look much like your statue that’s within your temple.

Swallowing your nerves, you shimmer yourself into visibility. The grassy field is odd beneath your feet, and you walk toward him with uncertainty in each step. You’ve never met with a mortal before, and you haven’t stepped on anything earthy in a long while. His broad stature only becomes more daunting as you get closer, especially since he seems so focused.

You will have to speak first. You’re much too quiet in this environment, and you must act fast lest he wake before you get his attention.

“General Acacius,” you speak firmly, though your hands shake. 

This is so unfamiliar to you. You’ve barely even seen his face, as he’s usually bowed at your altar. It is the first time you’ll see him at an equal level, the first time you’ll have brought yourself to him rather than him to you. 

He turns quickly, an instinctual aggressiveness toward the unknown. You stand about 10 feet from him, eyes widening.

Acacius is striking. His nose is what you focus on first, strong in shape and line, but behind it are his eyes which look to you with wide acknowledgement. His hair curls around his head in greying ringlets, like a permanent laurel crowning him. The wide expanse of his back was once impressive, but now you can see the solid wall which he becomes when facing you. Nothing could push him over it seems, a man built to stand.

Your heart squeezes the way it did the first time he gave you a request, a tender rush tingling your whole body. No words come out of either of your mouths, and the General drops to one knee instantly. 

He recognizes you.

“Goddess Felicitas,” he rushes out in a breath. His chest is heaving as he bows his head and no, no this isn’t how you want this.

Your feet are moving before you can focus on your anxiety, bringing you so close to him that you can kneel too. Maybe a goddess should not kneel before a mortal general, but you are just on your knees rather than putting yourself below him. Your peplos billows a little as air rushes through it when you hit the grass.

He is above you like this, and you tilt your head to see his face again. His strong brow is furrowed, eyes squeezed shut like he is afraid of you. 

“Acacius,” you say softly, “I am not here for… for ill reason. Please relax yourself.”

You lean back as he relaxes, head tipping upwards as he kneels in front of you as well. Now you can meet his eyes, see the crinkles that are beside them, and really take him in.

An energy of anxiety is shared wordlessly, with him stiff from the sight of a literal goddess, and you with the fear of… something. 

The identity of your anxieties isn’t something that you can figure out. Maybe it’s too much to see such a handsome mortal, or maybe it’s that you’re going to thank him for his offerings so personally. Maybe it’s humiliation from this act. What would other Gods think of this? Is it not degrading to become so attached to a mortal? Are you no better than Zeus or Hermes, the gods who interact too intimately with mortals? 

The sound of his labored breathing alerts you, calls your attention back to the present moment. 

“I wanted to thank you,” you admit meekly, “for your offerings. You have been very generous and… devoted.”

His eyes are shifty, and you can see the terror in him still. You don’t want him to fear you, but you can understand why. Visits from Gods or other deities can mean trouble, but you aren’t significant like that.

“General Acacius you are the first mortal who has acknowledged me in a long time,” you offer a vulnerability, perhaps trying to soothe him.

It feels so backwards for you to be kneeling in front of him, speaking. He has done so in front of your altar for many weeks now, but now the spots are switched, yet you are still in power. You avert your gaze as you speak up, wanting to request something of him.

“You’ve been so generous to me, General, I was hoping to know more about you.”

And now, rather than scared, he seems suspicious. 

“To know me?” He clarifies. 

You nod.

“I only know your last name. I think I could offer more luck and splendor if we were more… personal.” 

Gods that felt awful to say. You’re no better than the whorish brutes on their thrones, offering petty glories for intimacy. Everything feels flirtatious but that’s not what you’re looking for. Acacius has a wife he clearly loves, you would never want to interrupt that. 

He seems to hesitate, but he knows he cannot refuse you. So far your blessings have brought ease to his life, he wouldn’t want to lose that.

“Then… yes, I suppose I can offer myself if it would please you.” He responds stoically. 

And it does please you, to know his name. Marcus Acacius, the one who woke you, the one who has saved you from being a fragmented memory within the temples. 

Marcus Acacius, who you are too fond of.

—

You visit him 3 more times. In an attempt to space out the usage of the berries Morpheus gave you, you only visit him once a week. The bleak tasting berries are sour on your tongue, a rotten sour which lingers once you wake up, but it’s worth it.

The two of you have grown closer, with Marcus opening up more. He tells you about the stresses in his life, how much anxiety is buried in him. But, he’s confident for the sake of his wife. You’ve learned that her name is Lucilla, and much more about her. Marcus talks about her a lot, in passing or retelling something she told him. In the small amount of time you’ve gotten to know him, you’ve gotten to know her as well.

It burns you with a strange warmth, a desire and envy which makes your stomach growl. You are hungry for him to admire you in the same way, to speak of you, but doesn’t he already? Shame grips your throat when you think of it. You are a Goddess who he sacrifices to, who he wishes to have blessings from. What more do you need? A mortal couldn't offer you what another deity could. 

After the fourth meeting, you found yourself lonely. Lazing back in the clouds above your temple, you woke with a deep hunger. Marcus is beautiful, an admirable man, and he loves passionately. You are already being such a glutton for even speaking with him, meeting with him repeatedly, so why must you yearn for him too? 

Worship isn’t enough, you want what you will never let yourself to have.

Nothing hints that he might feel similarly. His starry gaze which lands on you is not due to your beauty, your personality, or anything more. You have blessed him, and that is why his eyes glitter. Goddess status has never made you feel so low and isolated. Still, you are happy to help him achieve what he wishes, even as it cripples your heart.

Tonight you plan on visiting him. That fourth visit was a week and a half ago, he may be wondering where you are. He still comes to your altar each night, but the prayers are less personal. Marcus saves his stories and ramblings for when the two of you are in the field, or near the lake, when the two of you are really alone.

—

You bite into the berry at around midnight. Its tangy yet death-tasting juice floods your mouth, clinging to the crevices between your teeth and staining your gums. Closing your eyes, you think of Marcus, and his curls, and his eyes, and his nose, and his strong hands.

And then you are there, and he is waiting. 

It seems like his subconsciousness has picked to be at the lake today, and he’s sat in the sand at the edge of the water. You walk over to him, but notice how… down he appears to be.

“She is not happy with me,” Marcus confesses before you even sit down.

You stand a few feet back from him, looking at how his curls fall around his bowed head.

“Lucilla?” You ask softly.

He nods.

A wicked feeling begins to steep in your heart. She is upset with him, he is in need of you for something more than a blessing. 

And so you listen. 

It’s one of the longer meetings the two of you have had. Marcus doesn’t cry, but he seems truly upset. He’s been called to go off somewhere far again, to fight and kill. Reassurances that you will protect him as best you can only soothe him so much. 

He doesn't care if he dies, he cares that his beloved is distraught over this. 

The more the two of you talk, the closer you get. There are marks on the sand from where you originally sat, but now you kneel in front of him, with creased brows and worried eyes. This isn’t something you can fix, you aren’t familiar with love and its intricacies. 

His knees were tucked closer to his chest before, but they’ve loosened now and his fists rest atop them, clenching. Frustration sits on his face like a mask, one you wish to take off him.

Touching is not… something either of you partake in. Sometimes your shoulders will brush when you sit together, but nothing more has ever been initiated. 

That is why it doesn’t surprise you when he flinches as your hand reaches out to rest on top of his right clenched fist. 

“Marcus,” you say softly, wanting to offer comfort, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t,” he replies swiftly.

At first it hurts, watching as he waves off your hand from his own, but then you look at his face rather than where your hands were joined. The frustrated look on his face is gone, replaced with something worse, something guilty. His eyes aren’t glittering at you like usual, nor are they hardened with anger.

They’re soft pools of conflict that mirror your own.

It doesn’t soothe your burn, satiate your envy. You can see in his eyes that maybe you aren’t alone in these feelings of admiration, of want, but maybe this is not what you want.

Maybe you want a different universe, one where he doesn’t have to be a mortal and you, a Goddess. So you wouldn’t have to worry about him dying, and have this friendship survive off death flavored berries. Maybe you want a universe where he isn’t married, where he could be yours and you wouldn’t feel like a spectator to his heart.

Maybe you want that, but you won’t get it.

Instead the flames of jealousy die in your chest and are replaced with tumors of guilt. Your whole body feels bloated, embarrassed, and ugly. 

The pair of you stare at each other, a stupid realization between the both of you as you realize that your secrets have been spilled, even though it’s the same one.

His eyes don’t move from yours, so you move from his.

The sandy edge of the lake does not look so bright now, even though there are no clouds in Marcus’s dream. 

“When do you leave?” You ask softly. 

You will not follow him into whatever battle he’ll win. Don’t embarrass yourself, Goddess.

He tells you two weeks. You say you’ll see him before then.

Then you wake on a cloud again, with a cavity of guilt in your chest.

—

Marcus wakes alone. 

Lucilla had not wanted to sleep with him that night, choosing to stay elsewhere. She didn’t tell him where, she left in a quiet flurry of tears and anguish.

It’s easier for him to feel guilt over his Goddess than it is to hurt his beloved, even if it is the same.

In a moment of frustration he grasps at the sheets, turning over and biting at his pillow. The bed is so cold, and the room smells like stale air even though the window is open, the night breezy. 

He knows she is beautiful because she is a Goddess. All Goddesses are beautiful, ethereal beings that mortals cannot even comprehend at times. Marcus knows he is lucky to even perceive her, for her to have chosen to visit him.

Yet through all her blessings, he feels cursed.

A plague of emotional infidelity is crawling through his body, sticking to his bones and making him stiff. Everything he does has felt flat for so long, from pretending he is grateful to the Emperors, to now pretending nothing is wrong in his marriage. He’s scared, and exhausted.

Marcus rubs a hand over his face after rolling over and sitting up in bed, groaning into his palm. 

At first he tried to blame her for it. What would a Goddess want from a successful General other than a demigod hero son? What could truly be so special about him? He assumed she was manipulating him, using some sort of power to morph his heart, but now he knows it is not true.

If she had wanted to, she would have had him by now, and he knows this. If she had wanted to, her hand would have stayed where it was tonight, and pushed him further. It isn’t unlike the Gods to force themselves on a mortal, but she didn’t.

Instead, his hand feels hot where hers rested, and his mind is spinning. 

Marcus doesn’t fall asleep again, afraid that he’ll see her. 

—

You wait for a full two weeks before you visit him again. He had been coming to your temple less, and you had assumed he was busy with preparations for the coming battle. 

The stubbornness you felt that night has not left you. At first you did not leave your temple in fear that you would grow attached, now you remain there because you have grown attached. 

“Enough is enough,” you had thought to yourself. 

But it is hard not to miss him, and his soothing prayers. The way his offerings tasted of smoke and sweet, and how he’d always burn such a large portion. Marcus never gave you scraps, he seemed to refuse to. 

However, you can only distance yourself so far. 

It is quiet when you approach him. He is sitting in the field this time, the lake a distant glitter in your eyes. He does not face you, but his head isn’t bowed like before.

“Marcus,” you greet, your voice muted.

He raises his head, turning over his shoulder and nodding, as if to direct you to come closer, and so you do.

Tonight’s visit isn’t vulnerable, or even pleasant. Marcus seems so distant as he dryly tells you about how he’s preparing, and his wishes to return safely. His eyes barely meet your own as he talks, and he continuously twists the ring on his finger.

It grows tiring, watching him ramble about politics you could care less about, listening to him say things that have nothing to do with him. He’s so far from the friend you thought you had made. When the air between you goes quiet, you don’t fill it for a while. You listen to the sound of the wind in the grass as his eyes still will not meet yours. It’s breaking you apart.

This is the last night you’re able to visit him, unless you visit Morpheus again. You will not waste it like this.

“What is ailing you, General?” You ask, deciding to prod more than you usually do.

To your surprise, he scoffs in light laughter.

“You,” he responds quietly.

His words don’t hurt, at least not yet. You have the option to walk away now, wake yourself and leave him with his final blessings, but of course you don’t.

“Me?” You ask, “what have I done?”

Marcus rolls his shoulders back, lifting his head to look into the everblue sky above the both of you.

“You have made my life difficult, Goddess.”

Difficult? You have made his life difficult?

You have half a mind to tear him to pieces, curse him with something awful like snakes for toes, or spoons for teeth. After all that you’ve done for him, all the safety you’ve provided, he is telling you that you make things difficult? How dare he? Be outraged, Goddess, for he disrespects the holy luck which you bestowed to him.

That’s what you should think, that’s how most of you should feel.

But instead you feel small, and hurt. Yes, he is disrespecting all that you’ve given, but also you feel like a failure. Your physical existence is because of him, because he did not let you fade. All you wanted to do was make his life easier, help him to have an eased mind and a safer life.

But instead, he’s telling you you’re difficult.

It feels like your body is shrinking in the white peplos you’ve worn, the sheer fabrics swallowing you. Shame is flooding in the form of tears behind your eyes, wetting your orbs with an unexpected outburst of emotion.

“I am sorry,” you manage weakly.

Marcus does not look at you while you cry, and you want to believe it is because he cares too much to watch, but you cannot verify that.

The wind picks up again, but it does nothing to hide the soft cries you can’t hold back. Once you were a fading Goddess, now you are just a failing one.

There is no luck involved with love.

Eventually he speaks again, with his head turned away from you.

“I am sorry too,” he says. There’s a finality in his tone that makes you ache.

So much is said in such little words. He is sorry to you, for you, and with you. A sorrow is shared between the two of you, knowing that your hearts ache for one another as they are worlds apart yet on earth together. 

This last berry was only supposed to mark the end of your visits, not the end of everything. It feels like this is all there is for the two of you, since it’s too complicated to continue on like this.

That’s why he doesn’t move away when you move closer and rest your head on his shoulder as tears leak down your cheeks, or at least that’s what you’ll believe. 

—

Time moves weirdly when you’re immortal, but it all happens so quickly.

Marcus stopped coming to offer things for you, and so you were blessing him less. Admittedly you had kept an eye on him, but not a keen one. It didn’t feel right, not when you and him weren’t… friends anymore.

But this feels too soon, too fast, too unfamiliar. Has your sadness caused you to be blind?

You watch as a man kneels in front of Marcus, panting and bloody with a sword beside him on the ground.

The only reason you are here was because you had felt the roar of a crowd all the way at your own temple, a wide distance away. It had drawn you in, and instead you had found this.

That roaring which you had heard crescendos to a new height around you as you shimmer into existence, cloaking yourself to the mortal eyes in the stands of the coliseum, but existing enough to touch him.

Arrows stick out of his front, more crushed beneath his back, as he is slumped on the white, gravel, ground. His hair is curled with tacky blood streaking through it, and he is so, so, still.

You drag your hand across his forehead, feeling the remaining heat, and in the echo of the crowd you begin to sob. 

Everything around you is moving, changing, fighting, and screaming, but you sit invisible in the center of the coliseum, running your hands over the now dead General Acacius. There is nothing you can do to bring him back, to ease Lucilla, to save him and apologize. He is dead beneath your fingers, with arrows lodged deep in his irreparable, mortal, flesh. 

You were supposed to keep him safe.

Hot tears run down your cheeks as you keep grasping at his armor, unable to move him or yourself. The last visit felt official, but this feels final. There is nothing more for you here, no friendship in a corpse.

Thoughts are running through your mind at the rate that your breath is puffing from your chest. The question of where he will end up in the afterlife is overwhelming you, and the chance for him to go to Elysium feels reasonable. It’s where he should be, where he deserves to go, especially after all he had done for Rome. You don’t even care why he’s here, or why he seems to have been brutally killed, but after the time you spent with him, Elysium seems right for him.

—

It’s where he should be. Elysium is where he should be.

And it’s where you find him.

His place there is somewhat similar to his and Lucilla’s home back in the mortal world, with lush greenery and airy drapes that flutter in various colours. It seems like he has left space for Lucilla here too, with space left in the chests for her things, and a permanently made half of the bed.

Elysium offers a true celebration of life for heroes, demigodly or not, and you’re sure Marcus has been enjoying that. Anything that he had been shackled to in his mortal life was gone now, and it seems that all he would have to miss is his wife. 

Most of your time is spent there, in his afterlife home. You peer from behind curtains when he comes back, hidden in drapes and keeping yourself small. 

He is already dead, but after the last time you abandoned him, you cannot bear to leave him alone again.

The vision of him, bloodied and murdered on the coliseum floor, flickers into your mind every time you see him lying in his bed. It’s an obsession to be near him, to be looking after him. Pluto might not even know you’re down here anymore, but what does it matter?

Marcus Acacius was the last living mortal to worship you. In the underworld, you are beginning to fade. Your fingers are slipping from you again, which is making it easier to lurk near him, but it is a painful process.

You want to speak to him. No longer do you yearn for his love, not after being in his home and seeing how dedicated his heart truly is to Lucilla, but you yearn to speak to him again. A panicked emotion runs through you at the thought of fading alone, of being entirely forgotten. 

It didn’t matter before he died, fading was just something bound to happen, but now it’s more. Is he forgetting you?

—

You’ve lost most of your arms by the time you work up the courage to speak up. Lucilla arrived sometime ago, joining Marcus in the afterlife. Watching them together brought some warmth to you, some kind of happiness that you couldn’t have for yourself, but seeing it for him was enough.

You sit on the terrace of their home, invisible to their eyes, and somewhat to your own. From the tips of your fingers to just below your elbows, you are a specter. Grey shadow fills where your limbs used to be, and they pass through all objects. You couldn’t tap his shoulder if you tried.

Oftentimes you sit, hidden, and ponder by yourself about more than Marcus. There were so many things you were adamant about when he was alive, and you regret it all now. Your determination to avoid your feelings, or at least not show them, and your need to not become attached… it bites at you now, a stinging, grieving, venom, that won’t leave. Your status as a Goddess blinded you to how tender that friendship could have been, and now you sit as a ghost spectator to his afterlife, obsessed with a mortal as a fading immortal. 

The tips of your fingers pass through the glass you try to grab as you think of this on the terrace. You’re glad that you’re such a minor deity, so at least you do not have to feel so humiliated about fading. A smile has just graced your face as you feel blessed for being so unimportant you can essentially stalk this mortal, when suddenly his voice cuts through the humid air of the space.

“Felicitas?” Marcus’ voice asks.

It’s so hesitant that you think you’re imagining it. You thought you had their home to yourself right now, thinking they had gone to do… whatever souls do in Elysium, but when you turn your face, he is there.

Marcus has not worn fancy clothing in a long while now, and right now is no different. He stands before you in a plain looking tunic, which just graces his knees. To see him at ease has been so nice, but he looks distressed at your sudden appearance.

You cannot find your voice as you awkwardly stand up, trying to think quickly. There is no good way to explain what you’re doing here, hidden away in him and his wife’s home. You could just vanish into thin air, but that feels wrong. He has seen you already, any attempts at pretending you aren’t here would be ridiculous.

His eyes scroll from your face down to your arms, and the smoking shadows that used to be there. Concern pinches onto his face with knitted brows and pressed together lips.

Something in you wants him to turn away, so you don’t have to think about why he is worried for you, even after all the trouble you caused, but he doesn’t.

His sandaled steps are heavy as he comes to you, reaching for your hands but finding the gesture fruitless as his own slip right through yours.

“Dulcissima,” he speaks weakly, shock woven in his words.

You had told him about fading a little while ago, when the two of you were in that field. Now it seems the severity of it has hit him.

What is hitting you is the name. Dulcissima, or sweetest. How long had it been since you had been referred to so fondly? All at once you are being remembered, recognized, and shown some affection. It feels like too much and tears are falling out of your control.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, “I was supposed to– to keep you safe.”

Marcus is shaking his head already, refusing your apology.

“No, no. You did keep me safe, you did. I pushed you away, I couldn’t control myself and I caused this,” he argues. 

It does not comfort you that you both blame yourselves. You wish to reach out to him and touch his face like you should have when he was warm and alive. You want to know if he is cold now, and it’s as if he hears you.

Marcus places a hand on your cheek, a softness in his eyes and hold that says that he missed you.

“I saw you,” he claims, “when I was on the ground. You were the last thing I saw.”

Somewhere between life and death for mortals, there are moments of godly clarity. Some see the light, others see their families and memories, but in that tiny glimpse of time, some see Gods. 

He was able to see you as you knelt over him, sobbing as you were cloaked to any mortal's naked eye.  You were the last thing he saw, and the last thing he truly regretted. 

All you can do is stiltedly nod at him, feeling like you were in trouble even though it seems he’s not upset.

For a moment, his eyes flick away, contemplative, but then he meets your gaze again.

“I told Lucilla of you, before I died. Not– not of my feelings which I struggled with, but that you were a close friend, a blessing in many ways.”

A blessing in many ways.

Another choked sob is wracked from your chest, your bottom lip curling out embarrassingly as your face contorts. He almost coos at you, the thumb on your cheek rubbing away your tears.

“Goddess, I have missed you,” he admits. 

Stupid nods are all you can offer, your voice imprisoned in your ever tightening throat which cries. When he was alive he was never this tender, too confused and insecure to ever touch you, but it seems he has been regretting things too.

“Felicitas,” he says quietly, “do you come here for ill reason?”

You shake your head this time, rather than nodding. You have no reason to be here, other than the fact that guilt has taken over your mind and heart since he died.

“Then relax, dulcissima. I have an offering for you.”

Marcus relaxes his stature, eyes still gazing over you. He looks at your fading palms and you watch him swallow nervously.

“I will worship you again, lending you offerings here, and all I ask in return is for our friendship again.”

It’s the opposite of how you met, almost completely, but it’s everything you need. You will not fade, he will not struggle in marriage, and you will have one another again. 

Again, you are nodding stupidly, but soon you’re embraced by him and nodding into his chest. His hands grasp at your back as he tells you how much he missed you in his final weeks, how he regrets losing you entirely, how he requires you as a friend. 

You are satiated in his arms as he comforts you, awakening you again there on the terrace. Unbeknownst to you, Marcus has let tears slip down too as he holds you close. 

“You will keep me safe here?” he asks jokingly.

It makes you smile, the idea of offering luck to a man who already died.

“Yes, General. I will keep you safe here, from all the horrifying glory and splendor,” you assure.

The two of you laugh, breaking the embrace but staying close. A passionate connection is still between the two of you, but in a different way now. Maybe when he was alive it was romantic because it is all you could think of, but through his death the two of you have come to understand it more. 

You require one another in a unique way, and leaning on one another does not have to be intimate the way he is with his wife. Marcus does need you, just as you need him, and now that you are both immortal in a way, you will never be separated again.

please leave a comment, like, reblog, askbox, or ANYTHING. i'd love to hear thoughts on this <33

tags (people who seemed excited for this) (sorry if these dont work)

@pascalssbabyy , @moonshapedflan , @gossipgirl-03 , @kyloispunk , @frannyzooey , @coocoolahh , @bug-boy32 , @honeymarvel , @magicalmorg , @1deakybass , @tuquoquebrute , @harryshousewhore , @teeagain, @chewie-bars , @vampyyweek , @queenslandlover-93 , @amijenn , @aquanatalie

[keeryhours]

please don’t go, i love you so - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby daddy! Rafe

Summary:

When you get in a serious accident, Rafe’s true feelings are left staring him in the face.

Requested

Warnings:

Lots of drama and angst, language, serious car accident, medical stuff, talk of TBIs, broken bones, and other injuries

Word Count: 4k

A/N:

Had to do research for this one, but I’m definitely no expert on medical stuff so forgive me if I get something wrong 🥲 Requests are open! BD Rafe requests can be anywhere in the timeline, past, future, smut, fluff, or angst :) Other OBX (or ST) requests also very welcome. I hope you enjoy this one!

let me know if you want to be on any tag lists :)

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

—

“Iris, please, baby, we’ve got to get your shoes on.”

“No!” the toddler yelled back, running circles around the living room.

You were out of energy. You sat on the couch, your face in your hands, as she continued to run and you tried to clear your head and just breathe.

It had been a long day. A bad day. Iris had been absolutely wild, endless energy and more attitude in her nearly 2 year old self than you thought possible. And it didn’t help that JJ was out with the pogues, so you didn’t even have any backup. It was 7pm, nearing her bedtime, and this had been your whole day. You were over it.

Everything had been a fight with her all day, but the current one was getting her dressed for pickup. It was Rafe’s weekend, and he’d be pulling up any second. You didn’t feel too thrilled about seeing Rafe right now, either.

Things had been complicated with Rafe. You felt like it was a constant back and forth with him, especially recently. Not about co-parenting, never about Iris - you knew you were lucky that the two of you got along so well when it came to parenting your daughter. It was feelings that got tricky.

You didn’t even know how you felt about Rafe yourself. On one hand, you knew you loved him. You’d always love him. But just because you loved him didn’t mean you should be together. You could never forget the toxic situation your relationship had been. Constant fighting, endless tears, trust issues and anger problems.

That’s not even to mention the way he would act around you lately. He was hot and cold. Sometimes he acted all affectionate, kissing and touching you, fucking you, like you’d never broken up in the first place. Other times he was cold and withdrawn. It left you feeling confused, like emotional whiplash, and you were honestly tired of it.

You debated on letting yourself have a quick cry, but quickly wrote that off as you thought of how humiliating it would be to answer the door to Rafe with your face all red and puffy from crying. You took a second to collect yourself, before putting the Mom pants back on.

“Iris Elaine Cameron,” you said sternly, standing from the couch.

The little girl came to a stop, looking up at you with a big grin on her face, totally oblivious to your frustration. The sight of her angelic face softens you immediately, of course. She had her light brown hair up in tiny pigtails, dressed in one of the many outfits Rafe had bought her. Some designer brand dress, not that you had any idea about that or thought it made much sense to dress a toddler in such expensive clothes. She looked cute, though.

You held up her Mary Jane shoes. “Are you gonna let Mommy put your shoes on so Daddy can come pick you up?” you asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Her little face lit up with joy. “Dada! Dada!”

Your heart clenched in your chest. Iris had been a total Daddy’s Girl since day 1 - and Rafe was completely wrapped around her little finger - but sometimes the reminder of him hit you especially hard.

At the promise of seeing her dad soon, Iris happily hopped over to you. You smiled as you lifted her onto your lap and slid her shoes on, buckling them. “There. See? All done,” you said. Iris held her palms out and twisted them, baby sign language for all done, which made you giggle. When you had read the articles and brought it up to Rafe, he had thought teaching her sign language as an infant was dumb. But it actually ended up being extremely helpful since she couldn’t communicate with words yet.

“Book?” she asked you, and you knew exactly what she wanted - her favorite book, Where the Wild Things Are. She’d have you read it 50 times a day if you’d do it. You smiled as you reached over to unzip the diaper bag, pulling the book out. She broke into a huge grin just at the sight of it.

You opened the beloved book and began to read to her, making her giggle with the different voices you’d do for the monsters. Her favorite part was always when you or Rafe would read the line “Oh please don’t go - we’ll eat you up - we love you so!” while attacking her with kisses and tickles. She laughed so hard every time.

When the book was finished, you closed it and slipped it back in the bag to go to her dad’s. She pouted like she was about to throw a fit if you didn’t read it again. “Uh uh. You’re gonna have to wait until Daddy reads it tonight.” You leaned in, rubbing your nose against hers, making her giggle.

You sat Iris down on the ground at the exact time you heard the front door opening. You raised your eyebrows knowingly at Iris, who’s eyes went wide in the direction of the hallway. You both knew perfectly well who it was.

Rafe sauntered into the living room, sunglasses sitting on his face despite the sun already beginning to set. His bored expression was immediately replaced by a huge grin as he saw his daughter.

“Hey, baby girl,” he said, lifting her into his arms as she squealed with delight.

You avoided eye contact with Rafe, busying yourself around the living room as you made sure everything Iris needed that he didn’t already have at his place was packed in her diaper bag. Once you were satisfied, you approached Rafe with the bag, handing it over. He took it from you with a curious expression.

“You’re being weird,” he said, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head.

You ignored him, leaning over to give Iris a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, baby. I’ll see you Sunday night, okay?”

Rafe doesn’t take his eyes off you, like he’s examining you inside and out. “What’s your deal?”

You sighed - you already felt defeated and exhausted going into this encounter, you didn’t really want to do this tonight. “Nothing. Everything is fine.”

But Rafe knows you better than anyone.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at you. “This is because I took Briana on another date, isn’t it?”

You felt your skin turn ice cold at the accusation, your defenses building themselves high. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

The slightest smirk dances across his lips as he sits a wiggling Iris back on the ground, his eyes never leaving yours. “That is why you’re mad.”

You huffed an incredulous laugh as you crossed your arms and looked away from him, watching Iris start dragging everything you’d just cleaned up out of the toy box again, paying no mind to the two of you. “I’m not mad. And if I was, I have much better things to be upset about than who you choose to stick your dick into,” you hissed back at him.

Rafe barked out a laugh, looking up at the ceiling as he did like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. “You are so full of shit.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Get out, Rafe. I’ll see you Sunday.”

He watched you for a minute longer as you both stood there in silence. Finally he let out a big sigh, running a hand over his face. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, you know that?”

You didn’t acknowledge the comment as he moved to lift Iris into his arms again, her bag slung over his shoulder. You followed him to the front door, ready to shut him out as soon as possible, but as soon as he stepped over the threshold, he turned back to you.

“You know, it’s none of your business who I see. We’re not together. You’re not my girl.”

You just looked at him, his words cutting far deeper and harder than you wanted to admit. “Same goes for you too, Rafe,” you said, thinking of the multiple times Rafe’s temper and jealousy had ruined one of your dates. Half the island was scared to even look at you because of him. It was fucking annoying.

Rafe scoffed. He shook his head one more time with that stupid grin on his face. “I’ll see you Sunday,” he said, and then he was walking off towards his truck.

You didn’t linger. You shut the door as soon as he stepped away, leaning against the wood as you took a deep, shaky breath. God, you hated that arrogant asshole sometimes.

You wallowed in your despair on the couch for a while that night, switching between various shows, none of them catching your interest. Eventually you think what’s the point, and decide to just go to bed early. You might as well take advantage of the sleep without having to worry about getting up early.

—

You hoped you would feel better the next day.

You didn’t.

You made breakfast for you and JJ, not something you typically do when Iris was at Rafe’s, but you felt like pancakes. And JJ certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“You look depressed,” JJ pointed out helpfully through a mouthful of pancake as you sat at the small dining table across from him.

You glared at him over your plate before eating a bite of your own breakfast. JJ held his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Touchy subject this morning, I see.”

As much as you loved your twin brother, you were relieved when he picked up his surf board after breakfast and told you he was going out. You didn’t exactly feel up to company.

With JJ gone, you attempted to stay busy around the house, but once everything was cleaned to perfection, you found yourself standing in the silent living room, feeling like you had no idea what to do with yourself. What was wrong with you, you thought. The place was always too quiet without Iris.

You needed a drive to clear your head.

You snatched your keys from the side table and left the house, still dressed in the tank top and athletic shorts you’d been cleaning the house in. You just wanted to drive around the island for a while, you weren’t really going anywhere, so you didn’t care how you looked.

You turned on your favorite sad playlist and sang at the top of your lungs to songs about love and broken hearts and pain. You felt pretty silly, but this was your time, your coping mechanism, and you weren’t going to feel bad about it.

Fuck Rafe Cameron. And not in the way you usually did.

You drove with the windows down, the salty breeze whipping through your hair, cooling your skin. You felt yourself starting to feel lighter.

You didn’t see the truck barreling faster than the speed limit around the corner. No one even had time to lay on the horn. You didn’t see or feel anything except a brief flash of pain and then - nothing.

—

“Wow! That’s beautiful, baby.”

Rafe lifted up the piece of paper covered in crayon scribbles, examining it like it was on display at The Louvre. It was the fifth one he’d been given since he sat on the floor with Iris, crayons and paper spread out all around them. Each piece of art went in a stack to be displayed somewhere in the house.

He watched his daughter as she picked up the green jumbo crayon and began roughly scribbling it across another blank page. The same big smile he always had around Iris was spread across his face. Nothing made him happier than spending time with her.

Rafe was caught off guard by the sound of his phone ringing loudly in his pocket. He sighed as he pulled it out, expecting to see either Topper or Kelce forgetting it was his weekend with Iris. But his eyebrows furrowed as he saw it was JJ calling him. JJ never called or texted him. They only had each other’s numbers in case of emergency.

Rafe felt a jolt of pure fear deep in his chest.

He answered the call, tentatively bringing the phone to his ear. “Maybank?” he answered.

He felt the nausea spread over him like a tidal wave when JJ spoke your name in his panicked voice. It was you. God, something bad had happened to you.

“S-slow down,” Rafe said, holding his shaking hand out in front of him as if JJ could see. Pure panic was spreading and growing through every vein in his body. “What…what happened?”

JJ’s voice was shaking too as he spoke. Rafe could tell he was pacing, probably pulling at his messy blonde hair as he did. “She- it was a truck. Guy was speeding and hit her head-on. Her car is totaled, they…they haven’t even let me see her yet. I don’t even know if she’s okay. Fuck, I shouldn’t have left this morning. Fuck!”

Rafe couldn’t even process JJ blaming himself for something that definitely wasn’t his fault, because he was doing the same thing. He had been a total asshole to you last night. The idea that that could possibly have been the last conversation he’ll ever have with you has him feeling like he’s going to be sick on the floor.

“I’m on my way,” Rafe said simply, and then he was hanging up the call, shoving his phone in his pocket and climbing to his feet.

Sarah was happy to watch Iris as Rafe grabbed his keys and sprinted to his truck, with promises to text her about your condition as soon as he knew anything at all. He probably would have been driving 15 over the speed limit if he wasn’t so disgustingly reminded of the dangers of the road. Instead he drove as fast as he safely could, a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he clenched his jaw tightly.

His head was spinning as he rushed into the hospital, looking around the waiting room for any sign of JJ. He didn’t see the blonde boy anywhere. He approached the receptionist desk instead, urgently giving your name to the tired looking receptionist.

“She’s in the Neuro ICU, room 5,” the receptionist said. Rafe felt his breath hitch - the fucking ICU? “We only allow two visitors at a time, and it’s immediate family only,” she continued. “You are…?”

Rafe hesitated. “Uh…I’m her boyfriend,” he said the first thing that came to mind. “But we have a child together. Please.”

The receptionist eyed him for a moment, before nodding, giving him a sympathetic look. She printed a visitor’s badge for him and handed it over. He thinks she said something about wishing you the best, but all he could hear was his own blood rushing in his ears as he mindlessly walked towards the elevators.

The last time Rafe had been in a hospital was for Iris’ birth, decidedly a much happier occasion. He felt out of place and awkward as he walked through the quiet, sterile halls, following signs pointing him where he wanted to go.

When he reached the ICU and approached room 5, he froze. He had never felt so scared in his life, he thought. He didn’t know if he could do this.

But you needed him.

He slid the glass door open, a flash of blonde hair peeking from around the privacy curtain where JJ was sitting. Rafe mustered all the strength he had to walk forward into the room. JJ looked up at him as he entered, but his eyes were immediately drawn to you as his heart shattered in his chest.

He clasped his hands behind his head as he took in the scene in front of him. He was holding off a panic attack as tears welled in his eyes. You were there on the bed, and you looked so utterly broken that it made Rafe feel like he couldn’t breathe. You were hooked up to an IV, about a million monitors mostly over your chest and head, a cast on an arm and one on a leg, a ventilator.

Rafe’s shaky legs practically gave out then, his body collapsing in the empty chair by your bedside. He was terrified to look at you, knowing he was going to start crying harder if he did. He looked at JJ instead, who looked equally wrecked, his eyes red from crying.

JJ gave Rafe the rundown the doctor had just given him. Traumatic brain injury, broken bones in your left arm and leg. You hadn’t regained consciousness at all since the accident. Things were still up in the air, nothing the doctors would say brought Rafe any comfort. They didn’t know about surgery yet, they didn’t know how long it would take you to recover, hell, they couldn’t even say if you’d be the same when you woke up.

When Rafe finally worked up the courage to be close to you, to actually look at you - he didn’t know his heart could break like this. Your normally smooth, perfect skin that he loved to trace his fingertips over because of the way you’d react to his touch, was now covered in deep bruises. Your face - that beautiful face he always adored so much, the one he fell in love with back in junior high - bruised and lacerated. He couldn’t even tell himself you were just peacefully napping. You looked like hell.

The next weeks were long and difficult. Iris stayed with the Cameron’s, and while Rafe spent every second he could drag himself away from your bedside spending it with her, he didn’t leave the hospital much at all. He grew used to sleeping in the world’s most uncomfortable chair.

Your recovery was truly a miracle. You didn’t end up needing brain surgery, but they kept you monitored for weeks. You did suffer a pretty bad TBI, and you had surgery to repair the broken bones in your arm and leg. The ventilator was removed first, which Rafe was the most relieved about, because that terrified him more than anything else.

When you finally woke up, Rafe was the first thing you saw.

The second he noticed your eyes fluttering open, Rafe was bolting up straight in his chair, his hand gently cupping your cheek with a barely-there touch as he whispered your name.

“R…Rafe?” you had croaked, voice raspy and dry from disuse and the ventilator tube being down your throat. Rafe called the nurses immediately, and multiple examinations, a plastic hospital jug of ice water, and some heavy pain meds later, you were feeling…okay.

JJ was there for most of the day like he was every day he didn’t have work. He actually cried when he showed up and saw you awake, which surprised Rafe because he didn’t even seem embarrassed about it. He just embraced you as gently as possible so as not to hurt you, and it was clear you were equally as happy to see him. There was that twin bond, something Rafe found a little weird (especially when the two of you would communicate without even talking) but also…endearing.

Recovery was a long road, and it was a lot of hard work, but the doctors were confident in your ability to return to normal in time. You had to work on your memory, your speech. Physical therapy took up most of your days. But Rafe knew you were strong, and you showed him every day. Even Iris got to visit as often as she could, but you didn’t want her in a hospital for too long so she wouldn’t get sick.

Rafe sat by your side late at night, gently brushing his fingers through your hair as you laid with your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling. Your hospital stay was finally almost over. You’d be coming home tomorrow, staying with the Camerons so you had the help.

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. You were happy, but his behavior was confusing to you at the same time. “You’re being weirdly sweet,” you said with a teasing smile.

Rafe looked away from your eyes. “Yeah…well.”

The two of you sat with that silence for a while. You knew there was plenty he wasn’t saying, and you wondered if he would.

Rafe reached forward and traced a finger along your cheek, over your jaw line. The cuts and bruises on your face were mostly healed now, and you were endlessly grateful when they told you they didn’t expect any lasting scarring. His light touch sent a shiver through your body.

When Rafe finally spoke again, he sounded different than you had ever heard him. His voice was weak, broken. “Don’t do that to me again.”

Your face fell as you looked at him - really looked at him - and saw the pain hidden deep behind his blue eyes. Obviously you knew none of this was your fault, but you felt terrible for what you’d put your loved ones through all the same.

“I’m sorry-“ you began to say, but Rafe shook his head.

“Do you understand that I love you?” he said, his voice choked up as tears welled in those deep eyes. The words hit you like a physical blow, you felt yourself moving back as you looked him in the face. “I don’t give a fuck about Briana, or any other girl on this island compared to you. And it’s not just ‘we were together for a while and you’re the mother of my daughter so I’ll always love you’,” he continued, like the words were spilling out of his mouth faster than he could control. “No, like, I love you.”

He was looking you so intensely in the eyes that it took your breath away. You felt tears in your own eyes, falling down your cheeks before you could do anything about it. “Rafe…” you breathed out, you didn’t know what else to say. You weren’t even sure this wasn’t a dream.

“Maybe we could…maybe we could try again,” he said, the hope audible in his voice. “A…relationship?”

You let out a long shaky exhale. “I…” You searched your brain for the right words to say, searched your chest for how you really felt. “We…it’s never worked, Rafe, we never-“

“Do you love me?”

The question caught you completely off guard. “What?”

“Do you love me?” he repeated simply. “I told you how I felt. I need to know how you really feel.”

You swallowed. “I love you, Rafe,” you said, your voice small. “I’ve always loved you. But it’s still never worked for us.”

Rafe clasped both your smaller hands in his, being gentle with your cast. “I’m serious this time, baby. This is…things are different.” He held intense eye contact with you as he spoke, and you could see the genuine emotion swirling behind his eyes. “I’ve had a taste of what life would be like without you, and I don’t wanna go through that again.”

You had no control whatsoever as the tears started to fall down your face faster, a sob escaping from your throat. Rafe pulled you into the tightest gentle hug he could manage, his large hand combing through your smooth hair as you cried into his chest. He was a little panicked, he didn’t know if he had said something wrong to upset you. He didn’t want to make you sad anymore.

When you pulled back, Rafe wiped the tears from your face. He traced his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. His gaze flicked up to your eyes, back to your mouth, and then he was leaning in to press the softest kiss to your lips. When he broke the kiss and looked into your eyes again, he could see the mix of emotions swirling behind them. He wished he could read what you were thinking.

He grabbed your good hand with his own, intertwining your fingers. “You don’t have to decide anything now. You have plenty else to worry about. Just…think about it for me?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand in yours, which gave him some reassurance. You didn’t know what your decision would be, but you wanted to make sure you made the right one. For you, for Rafe, and for Iris.

“I love you,” you whispered to him.

His lips turned up in a smile. “I love you too.”

[turquoizxe]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐤𝐤𝐨

Ekko x Fem!Reader

content ― drabble/hc; fluff, mentions of Scar, reader has tattoos

author's note ― I love Ekko, that is all, moving forward, also I think I'm starting to like making drabbles/headcanons; I be locked in like a mf, and thank you for all the love on my previous drabble of Ekko!

wc ― 0.725k

Ekko's exterior was a tough shell to crack

But once you broke through it, there was no going back

He was closed off, for many good reasons, letting the walls he built come crashing down when with you was one of the hardest things he's ever done

It took what felt like eons to build this trust, but he wasn't sure if seeing a future with anyone was possible

He didn't want to get his hopes up

He had admired your patience and drive, hence why he adores you deeply

Dating Ekko felt like a dream, he felt like an entirely different person when his guard was down

While that's expected, you just couldn't believe that this is the same man running a Rebellion

And you wouldn't if you hadn't known him as long as you did

You had worked hard to earn his affection, just as he did to earn yours

What he took to get you, he used to keep you

The small trinkets he'd built, especially when he would get ready for missions, and he wasn't sure if he'd be back the same day

The community he had built had also learned to trust you, he involved you constantly in the development of the community

You were beyond terrified of the ride he always stood on

When your days would require less labor, you often spent your leisure trying to ride it

You thought Ekko wouldn't know, but he secretly likes to watch you practice, holding in his laughs whenever you busted your ass

What really surprised him is how good your combat is

You often avoided confrontation and physical altercations, as you never thought it was necessary to open a can of whoop-ass if it could just be solved with a conversation

But if anyone were to swing at you, you sure do hit back..hard

It flusters him how well your form is, the way your muscles flex when you practice with him. You often took that to your advantage when sparring. You knew for sure you had him where you wanted if you just wore a tank top, showing your tattoos

He stutters when he sees your tattoos, like a lot

It actually embarrasses him, and you can tell

So you often wear clothes that cover them so he can focus lol

He also loves it when you give him scalp massages. You learned how to retwist his locs, and he didn't go to anyone else anymore after you perfected it

He still hasn't told you who the hell his barber is, he'll come back to your shared home with a fresh cut, and you go absolutely feral

He loves it and makes it known, constantly teasing you when you can't look him straight in the face

But he better hope he doesn't get a lineup when you're ovulating because his ass is yours for sure

He's not really a man for public displays of affection, as he often reserves it in the comfort of which others cannot see

If he ever does it in front of his crew, he's usually needy, but he usually reserves that for your eyes and ears only

Constant moaning and groaning if he would steal a kiss from you while you're working, or a gag whenever you held hands in front of them

It's all in good fun, I swear

Scar teased you about it the most, as he was Ekko's right-hand

He knew how Ekko felt about you before he did

And when Ekko didn't pry into your love life, Scar did it for him

Finding out what you liked, as Ekko never really thought about how to serenade you

He was always caught up in his work, he hadn't put any thought into it until he he did what he knew best and started making small trinkets for you

After you started dating, he didn't need to think about it as hard

It all started to feel natural to you. Falling in love with you was easy, loving you on purpose was the real challenge

Every thought, action, and consideration, it was intending to catch you

Lucky for him, the efforts were successful

He really didn't think in a million years he'd land such a wonderful person as you, but I assure you he thanks the gods every day for your love

― turquoizxe

[littlespoonevan]

your hand in my pocket to keep us both warm

post 8x08 because i'm SAD in a way that can only be eased with buddie hurt/comfort 💔 title from abstract (psychopomp) by hozier

-

Buck is the one to drive him to the airport because who else would it be?

It feels a lot like deja vu as he approaches the glass doors of Departures but his step only falters for a moment before Eddie’s hand is catching his sleeve at the elbow and leading him through them. It’s further than Abby ever let him get.

Eddie lets him go as far the security line and he almost looks regretful when he turns to face Buck.

Buck would like to think he’s handled this well so far. He’s been supportive, helped Eddie choose his new home, listened to his fears about his parents, reassured him about Christopher, promised to oversee the shipping of the rest of Eddie’s stuff next week. He’s done everything right.

It hasn’t made any of this feel less wrong.

They look at each other now, awkward in a way they never are, until Eddie drops his bag and pulls him into a hug without saying anything.

Maybe because there’s nothing to say. Buck’s heart has been lodged in his throat since he parked the car; he’s not even sure he could say anything if he wanted to.

Eddie’s arms around him are a familiar weight though so Buck allows himself to sink into them. To tuck his chin into the crook of Eddie’s shoulder and to fist his hands in the back of his jacket like if he holds on tight enough he might be able to convince Eddie to stay.

When Eddie does pull back he makes no attempt to leave the circle of Buck’s arms. Instead one of his hands goes to that same spot at the juncture of Buck’s neck – always the same spot – and when his thumb makes contact with the divot in Buck’s throat he seeks out Buck’s gaze.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Buck croaks, the tell-tale burn behind his eyes becoming more pronounced by the second.

“Like I’m Abby,” Eddie sighs. “Or Ali. Or Tommy. I’m not leaving you, Buck.”

Buck tries to laugh but it comes out too hysterical and Eddie’s hand tightens on his neck.

“I’m leaving,” he allows. “But I’m not leaving you.”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you,” Buck says, the words wobbling in the middle. His hands are still twisted in Eddie’s jacket.

“And you think I do?” Eddie asks with a half-laugh. “Who am I gonna talk to when my folks are driving me crazy? Who am I gonna talk to when I do anything? Besides, you think Chris will accept you not visiting at least once a month?”

Truthfully, Buck has no idea what Chris wants right now but he clings to Eddie’s words anyway.

“Everyone at work is gonna find me insufferable. It was bad enough that last time you weren’t there.”

Eddie laughs again, thumb brushing Buck’s neck seemingly absentmindedly. “No they won’t. And I’ll be on Facetime so much it’ll be like I never left.”

Buck ducks his head but nods anyway, gathering up the courage to say what he wants to say next. “I know you have to go,” he starts, steeling himself as he makes himself meet Eddie’s gaze. “But please don’t go forever.”

Eddie’s expression blanks, his mouth parting over nothing. Buck can only stare back, hoping that just this once it might be different. That he won’t get a, ‘Take care of yourself, Buck,’ and a hand to the cheek before the person in front of him disappears forever.

Eddie doesn’t touch his cheek. Instead he presses their foreheads together hard enough to hurt, hard enough to make Buck’s breath catch and rush out of him on a shaky exhale.

“I won’t. I promise,” Eddie breathes and his hand moves from Buck’s neck to the back of Buck’s head and Buck can’t help wondering for a moment what would happen if he closed the distance between them. If Eddie would kiss him back.

It’s not a thought he’s ever entertained before but he’s thinking it now and it feels…like it makes sense. Like an inevitability.

And what a time to have a realisation like that.

Eddie leans back then and Buck forces himself to unclench his hands, attempting to smooth out the back of Eddie’s jacket with trembling hands.

“You should go,” he says because Eddie won’t.

Eddie nods faintly in agreement and it looks like it takes every ounce of effort for him to take a step back. Buck picks up his bag for him, offers it to him, and tries for a weak smile so Eddie will know it’s okay. That he can go and Buck won’t cause a scene.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get to my parents place.”

Buck nods. “Give Chris a hug for me.”

“I will.”

Eddie starts looking towards the security line again and Buck blurts out, “Tell him I love him.”

Eddie looks back to him, a devastating smile of understanding on his face. “He knows already. But I will.”

Buck nods again and then there’s nothing left to say. Eddie turns to go and Buck does the same because he can’t watch until he’s out of sight. It hurts too much already and he can barely hold his tears back as it is.

He doesn’t need to watch himself get left behind again.

~

He’s just unlocking his car when his phone rings. He doesn’t check who it is as he climbs in, just shoves the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he reaches for his seatbelt.

“Keep me company while I wait for my flight?”

He straightens so quickly the phone almost falls into his lap but he catches it just in time. And he tries to laugh but he thinks it might come out more like a sob. “Keep me company on the drive home?”

“Always,” Eddie says like they’re driving home from work after a long shift.

Buck switches his phone to speaker mode and looks down at the keys in his hand, at the keys to the loft, Maddie’s place and Eddie’s house respectively, considering his options before turning on the ignition.

“So there’s the guy at the gate-“ Eddie starts and Buck lets the sound of his voice wash over him. Allows himself just one singular moment where he closes his eyes and holds his hand to his chest before he pulls himself together and drives out of his space.

Eddie is offering him a play by play of the guy at the gate who’s insisting his luggage is not chirping and Buck gets his breath back enough to make a quip about how that made it through the security scanner.

When he reaches the freeway it takes hardly any thought at all for him to take the exit that’ll get him to the Diaz house fastest.

He’s going home after all.

~