#but yeah hope y'all are having a lovely evening!

[wonryllis]

soft dom!hee with shy!reader maybe? doesn’t have to be virgin reader necessarily, love all ur fics btw

® ❛ WHY ARE YOU SO SHY BABY? IT'S JUST ME.

FEATURING. lee heeseung & fem!r GENRE. smut! they are friends exploring dangerous territory omgg, softdom?heeseung & shy!r WDCT. 970 WARNINGS. SMUT PG18 ofc, bare grinding? humping? yeah. ( D𝒾RECTORY? )

NIE.NOTES ╱ wrote smut after a while, hope y'all like it ㅠㅠ tried to make it as softdom as i could idk .. my freaky ass kept going down the degradation route for some reason.

“what if it's me?” heeseung’s voice is hoarse, his steps carefully calculated as he gets closer to you.

“what if it's me who wants to see you like that?” his breath shaky, hands trembling in his soft grip on your waist and heart running a mile a second.

his eyes bore into yours. what if the one who wants to touch you all over, is me? what if the one who gets to see you moan and writhe underneath, is me? what if the one who makes you cum, is me?

and that's how you find yourself on heeseung’s bed, legs spread and head lolling back onto the pillow. back arching prettily in soft whimpers as his fingers tease you over the hello kitty panties.

god i should've worn sexier panties─

“fuck baby, these panties are so hot,” his eyes focus on the way the fabric rubs against you, wet and slick. the innocent hello kitty print soaked─ drenched like you already fell over the edge once. there was something so undeniably erotic about it; heeseung couldn't pin point, but it made him so hard he could barely think straight or feel embarrassed at all.

his thumb glides over the slit in lewd squelches, groaning at the way you seem to squirm at every slide.

“you're so sensitive─ so responsive. if i knew you were like this earlier i’d have touched you sooner,” heeseung grunts at just the possibility of having you under him this exact way, any more than once. oh how much he regrets not grabbing this chance any sooner, like how was he even going on with his life as just a friend when he could have had this?

your hands reach up to cover your face at his words. utterly embarrassed at the kind of things leaving his mouth, your hot friend vocalizing his hot thoughts about you: it made your skin burn with fervour. craving more but feeling bashful admitting it, especially to your friend.

“don't hide your pretty face baby,” his touch grips daint at your wrists and pries off your hands, holding them down by the side of your head. staring at each and every inch of your flushed face before he sits up to unbutton his jeans.

pulling his cock out of his boxers and jerking it off in a couple of slow strokes. wiping at the tip and smearing the precum across the entire length. his eyes lock with yours as he squeezes around the head once, hissing with pleasure at the way you seem to be so entranced at the sight of him. eyes wide and lips parted while you watch, hauling your body up to rest against your elbows on the bed;

so eager, so needy. the sexual undertones in your gaze gleaming right out despite the nervous and abashed front.

he grabs at your thighs softly, tugging you flush against him, his cock twitching over your damp panty clad pussy. one finger hooking at the side to hold it up just until he shoves his cock in, sandwiched between the wet cloth and your gushing folds.

“fuck,” heeseung chokes on air at the feel of you against him, no barriers, entirely pressed bare right into your most intimate and sensitive part─ it's heavenly. the moan you let out when he thrusts, almost breaks through his self restraint,”just─ let's just try this first─ fuck you feel so good baby,” his voice wavering and breath stuck in his throat.

he paws at your breasts, fondling one as he keeps grinding and thrusting. his eyes dropping to close with the immense amount of pleasure coursing through his veins, but the sight of you under him: clutching the sheets and bucking your hips to chase the high─ he doesn't want to miss even a second of it.

“hee─ it feels so─” moan.

“i know baby, i know,” his fingers brush back the hair sticking to your cheeks, hunching over your body to graze his lips against yours. mouth falling open as he mimics your expressions; albeit out of pure bliss of watching you feel good. of knowing that he's the one making you feel good. so good that you have forgotten all about how shy you were about the whole idea.

the slippery sensation of your panties soaked with precum against the tip and the slick burning heat of your pussy rubbing against the underside of his cock paired with your raw and lewd expressions is too much to bear. the sounds you let out going straight to his balls. tightening up with each little gasp and whine that falls off your pretty lips.

“i'm so─ ngh─” your words die down into a soft whimper, sucking your lower lip in between your teeth in an attempt to suppress the loud moan bubbling at the back of your throat. heeseung barely holds himself back from cumming at the sight.

“fuck me too baby,” he hurriedly grabs your waist, hands squeezing and holding you tight before his thrusts speed up. sliding sloppily, his tip hitting right against your clit each time.

shit shit shit. heeseung feels you pulse against his cock as you tumble off the edge, cumming in whiny chants of his name, your back arching off the bed again. fuck she's so hot. his own orgasm being pulled out of him like a wave of lighting, cum spurting out in jets onto your clit.

it's dizzing. his cock twitching as he watches your eyes roll back and your body slump onto the mattress. chest heaving for breath, skin glistening with sweat and eyes glazed over.

it's gonna be engraved in his mind. it's a done deal. he's never gonna see you normally again. not after knowing how you look.. when you are like─ this.

“see─ it wasn't so bad, was it?”

NSFW taglist 。open! @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @aaa-sia @criminalyun @oddracha @satan-223 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @jayjw16enxp

[euniexenoblade]

I debated if I wanted to mock this post/screenshot for a couple hours and i decided I was just gonna go in line by line and dissect it

"being poly is a choice you make. not an identity you cannot change."

I disagree. I struggled with this through most of my teens and early twenties. The desire to be with multiple people was strong and the concept that I couldn't be with all of them was very confusing and hurtful not just to me, but the people I was with. Had I been taught what polyamory is younger and had known that monogamy is not actually the only way you're allowed to be, i'd have probably been able to stop struggling with this much sooner. Do I think this was as big of a mental struggle as being gay or trans? Nah. But it was certainly an issue that ate away at me.

As much as polyamory was a choice, so was me being trans was a choice. I would say both are inherent to who I am. Just because something isn't inherent to your identity, doesn't mean it isn't inherent to mine.

The second paragraph is a gross misinterpretation of what was said. I said abused poly people in relationships they cannot escape will likely cheat when they do find love. The same is true for monogamous people who cannot escape relationships. This happens all the fucking time. To women. To gay people. To trans people. To poly people. This is so utterly common it's an overused trope in story telling.

"OBVIOUSLY abusive situations aside"

The post was about abusive situations. You're already throwing away the core concept to the post.

"why are you staying with someone you are completely incompatible with"

This shows how this person has no value for relationships. Just because you realize you're poly doesn't mean your feelings for an individual disappears. You want to see if this relationship can still work, whether monogamous or polyamorous. Not to mention so many people would find themselves homeless or penniless by just leaving. There's no actual understanding of love and relationships and the heart here.

"you don't need to pursue any kind of relationship ever"

And gay people don't have to be in gay relationships. Trans people don't have to transition. Doesn't change the longing to experience what you want to experience.

"where exclusivity is agreed upon"

I know poly people who entered relationships under the premise the other person was poly, just for that person to decide "actually I'm monogamous, and I'll kill myself if you leave me." You have no understanding or empathy.

"wanting to be poly does not excuse cheating what is wrong with you people"

Look I agree cheating sucks and violates trust, but acting like it's the worst thing in the history of ever is just childish. I get it hurts but at the end of the day, you do not own another person's body and sometimes shit happens. I just do not care what other people do with their own bodies and you cannot make me believe I'm supposed to care. If my husband goes and fucks someone without my permission (which he commonly does) then that's rad. I hope he has fun. If my wife goes and fucks someone I don't know (which she regularly does) then fuck yeah I hope they both had fun. Y'all are too fucking uptight.

Also the tags

The "monogamous people are losers and shouldn't get a say in anything" was something I said in reply to a heckler on my 'monogamous people often abuse poly partners' post. To take it solely as 100% serious opinion is foolish and childish.

"I cheated cuz waaa"

I've never cheated on any partner. The post isn't even saying it's ok cheat, it's saying that poly people get branded as cheaters whether they do or don't. But I'll say it here just because it's so controversial that it pisses losers off: it's ok for polyamorous people to cheat on monogamous partners. Get out before they abuse you.

[harringtonstilinski]

The Alchemy Pt2 - Eddie Munson (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 3,793 Warnings: fluff, micro angst Requested: no | yes; i'm saying yes on this 'cause y'all wanted a pt2, lol Smut: no | yes; oral (m+f receiving), protected piv (m+f), A/N: Hi, friends! Here's Pt2! For the schmutty scene, I grabbed some descriptive words/scenes (can't think of the word i'm looking for, lol) that I've read in books. Let me know what you thought! If you like this, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

eddie munson masterlist

eddie munson playlist

FIVE AND A HALF MONTHS LATER

The past five and a half months that you and Eddie have been together has been nothing short of amazing. He treats you better than Steve ever did, takes you out on dates more than Steve did, and even does things that you want to do or talk to you about things you seem interested in.

Of course, you do all that right back for Eddie, as well. You sit and listen to him read off the newest campaign he’d written for Hellfire, you listen intently to him ramble on about new things he’s interested in, and you even try new things that he seems interested in.

You look at Eddie like he’s the most gorgeous person on the planet, and he looks at you the same exact way. The love you two have for each other grows by the second. You can’t even think about the classwork in front of you because that metal loving boy of yours infiltrates your mind.

“Hey,” you heard someone whisper. Looking around, your eyes caught Steve’s next to you. “Pay attention or else you’re gonna get called on.”

“Mr. Harrington,” Mrs. O’Donnell said. “Care to share what you’re speaking about with the rest of class?”

Steve looked at Mrs. O’Donnell, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. As he stammered, you rolled your eyes, and raised your hand and said, “Mrs. O’Donnell, he was just reminding me about picking my brother up after school.”

“NIce to see you two getting along. Now, please, a little less talking, a little more paying attention.”

You and Steve said yes ma’am at the same time before going back to your respective notes. When you began doodling again, you looked up at seeing a face in the window of the door, an instant smile blooming on your lips. Looking at the clock, you sighed. “Five more minutes,” you mouthed, not wanting to get in trouble my Mrs. O’Donnell.

The person that ended up getting into trouble was, in fact, Eddie.

“Eddie Munson,” she sighed. When she opened the door, Eddie stepped in a couple of steps. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, you know,” Eddie said, leaning his shoulder against the wall near him. “Just walking around during my free period. Thought I’d come by and see my lady.” He turned his head over his shoulder to look at you, giving you a smirk. 

Covering your face with one of your hands, you looked down at your desk, whispering, “Oh, my god,” before hearing everyone in the room chuckle at your embarrassment.

Yes, Eddie embarrassed you a lot, and you let him know every afternoon when you showed up at his house. Did you embarrass Eddie? Hell no, only because nothing really embarrasses Eddie, but you’ve thought about it once or twice.

Before you could actually fall from your desk and die right on the spot, the bell rang and you sighed a breath of relief, but as you gathered your stuff, you heard Steve whisper your name. “Hmm?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Can we talk?” he asked, looking a little… dejected? What could he be feeling sad about?

“Uhh, sure,” you said. “Just let me put my stuff in Eddie’s van and then I’ll meet you at your car?”

“Actually, I was kind of hoping you’d just meet me there first.”

“Oh.” You furrowed your brows just the slightest. “Yeah. Let me, uhm… let me tell Eddie what’s going on.”

Steve nodded before standing from his desk, notebook and pencil in hand, to walk out of the room. You followed after a moment and a head shake later, finding Eddie waiting for you at your locker.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled.

Chuckling, you twisted the lock on your locker to the correct numbers as you responded, “Okay. Keep that nickname for your guitar,” you said, placing your school belongings into their homes. Closing the door, you looked at Eddie with all the love and affection you could muster. “I think I’ll stick with the nickname you unknowingly gave me.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

Wrapping your arms around Eddie’s neck, you didn’t care that you had a small audience, and by audience; almost the whole of Hellfire. “Love. Baby. Babe. My love.” Placing your lips on his, you sighed, waiting to do this all day.

Sure, the two of you kissed, but it wasn’t sweet like the one you were currently sharing. The ones you’d shared during the day were more chaste; short and sweet. Not sweet; long and unmoving.

At the sounds of all the kissy sounds and ooh’s and aah’s coming from the rest of the group, you split apart and turned your heads to face your friends, Eddie’s voice cutting through to say, “Okay, you’re all dead in the next campaign.”

When the group went quiet, you could see the horror in their eyes; they’d spent weeks building up their characters' healths and stats. They didn’t want to die within a couple of rolls of the dice. 

Looking up at Eddie, you ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ll meet you at the van in a few minutes.”

“Why, what’s up?” Eddie asked, placing one of his hands on your cheek. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, it’s just…” You paused for a moment, trying to put together the right words in the right order. “Uhm, Steve’s asked me to meet him at his car so we can talk. I’m not sure what he wants to talk about, though.”

Dropping his hand to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, all Eddie could do was look into your eyes. “You’re not…-”

“Oh, god, no!” you exclaimed. “I’m not taking him back. You have nothing to worry about. I love you.”

Softly smiling and bringing his hand to tuck a strand piece of hair behind your ear, Eddie continued to look at you. “Okay, sweetheart. And for the record; I love you, too.”

Smiling at your amazing boyfriend, you rose up to your tiptoes, placing a kiss to his lips. “You better or else I’m gonna expose your newest campaign to Hellfire and have them kick your sorry little ass.”

Placing a hand over his heart, Eddie feigned hurt. “You wouldn’t.”

As you place your heels back on the ground, your smile never faltering, you respond, “Yes, I would. Now, march your hot ass to your van, blast your favorite tape at the moment, and wait patiently for me, okay?”

“Okay, princess,” Eddie replied, cupping your cheek. He placed a sweet kiss to your lips before wrapping his arm around your shoulder, all but dragging you out of the school and to the parking lot. 

When you saw Steve looking down as he was leaning against his car, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad for him. I wonder what’s gotten him so down, you thought to yourself. Looking back up at Eddie, you kissed him before telling him you’d meet him at his van before walking over to Steve.

“Steve?”

The King himself looked up at you before quickly wiping at his eyes. Ever the comforting person that you are, you set your stuff down on the hood of his car and quickly made your way over to him, the both of you wrapping your arms around each other.

You let him silently cry on your shoulder for a few minutes before quietly asking, “What happened?”

Picking his head up, Steve whispered, “Nancy broke up with me. Turns out, she was cheating on me with Jonathan the last six weeks.”

“Oh, shit, Steve. I’m so sorry.” As his eyes met yours, you could see the question swirling within them. “Steve-”

“No, I know your answer, and I don’t expect you to dump Eddie to come back to me. I mean, I do want you to come back to me, but… as a friend, not a girlfriend. I miss you… a-as a friend.”

“Steve, it’s okay if you miss me like that, too. It’s just… I love Eddie, and honestly, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with him. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy with you, too, but… there’s certain things that Eddie does that’s… different from you.”

“How’s he treating you?”

“I think you know that answer,” you chuckled.

The smallest of smiles appeared on his lips before he responded, “Like a princess.”

“Exactly.”

It was quiet between the two of you for about a minute before Steve said, “The way I should’ve treated you.”

“Steve-”

“No, let me get this out,” he said. “You’re an amazing girl, and I should’ve treated you a lot better than what I did right there at the end.”

“Your jealousy is what ended our relationship, Steve. You got super fucking jealous that I was trying to make time to spend with Eddie. I mean, you were hanging out with all your basketball friends, as well as Tommy H. and Carol. You never let me have free time to spend with my friends.”

Nodding along to your words, he agreed. “Yeah. I was a pretty big asshole, wasn’t I?” He chuckled at the end of his statement.

“You were. But I know that you can get back to the Steve that I fell in love with.”

Smirking at you, Steve said, “Thanks. For being there for me.”

“Steve, I’m still your friend, and I’ll always be here for you.” Giving him a hug, you welcomed the embrace you gave to him, feeling his arms going around your middle. Pulling away, you said, “I have to go. If you need anything, just call my line. You know my number.”

“Thanks,” Steve said again before getting into his car, watching you walk to Eddie’s van.

Once you got close enough, Eddie slid out from his seat to catch you as you jumped into his arms. He spun you around a couple of times before stopping to just hold you for a moment. Looking out over at Steve, he gave a curt nod, your ex-boyfriend giving one back before he drove away.

Setting you back down on your feet, Eddie’s hands rested on your waist as he looked you into your perfectly colored eyes. “How was your talk?”

“It was… good,” you said, a small smile creeping up on your face. “He just needed someone to be there for him.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Eddie asked, “What happened?”

“Uhm,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Nancy’s been cheating on him with Jonathan for the last two months. He also wanted us to be friends again, and came to the realization that he didn’t treat me the way you do. I told him I’d always be there for him ‘cause, ya’know… that’s just how I am.”

“And that’s what I love about you.”

You hummed, looking up at your loving boyfriend. “I’m starving. Wanna go to Benny’s? I got cash!”

“Where’d you get it?” Eddie asked, walking you around to the passenger seat, which Eddie has dubbed as your seat.

“Told my mom that I’d be home late, so she gave me cash.”

“What about your brother?”

Shrugging, you replied, “He has A/V Club today, so he’ll probably go to Mike’s house afterward and play some D&D.”

“Wait. He plays?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, nodding. “He loves it. He and his friends play in the basement of the Wheeler’s house. I think one of their campaigns lasted ten hours!”

“Holy shit. Sounds like one hell of a campaign,” Eddie smiled. “I would love to play with him and his friends one day.”

“You might!” you happily exclaimed. “I’ve been telling them about Hellfire, and of course the end of the year party last year was at our house, and he was telling me when you guys left that night that he wanted to be a part of Hellfire when he got into High School.”

“And he will. I’ll make sure of it.”

Chuckling, you replied, “Eddie, you’re gonna graduate by then.”

He shrugged. “You never know. Especially with Mrs. O’Donnell.” The roll of his eyes and snarl of his lip make your chuckle turn into a full blown laugh. Eddie smiled, himself, at seeing the happiness on your face. Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, he said, “How about this; how about we go to the video store, pick out your favorite movie - yes, it can be a Disney movie - and then we’ll go home and watch it while snuggling up on the couch. What do you say?”

“Hmmm, I say that’s perfect,” you said, softly before placing your lips sweetly upon his.

~~~

What ended up with you and Eddie watching a sweet innocent movie turned into a full blown make-out session right there on the couch. You both were thanking your lucky stars that Wayne was already at work. 

You were straddling his lap, sitting up as straight as you could with Eddie’s hands splayed out on your back, your tongues and lips moving together in sync. His lips moved from your own to your cheek down to your jaw and then finally landed on your neck, where he worked your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair. “I love it when you do that.”

Unlatched his lips from your neck, he looked you in the eyes and said, “I love that I get to do this to you.”

Smiling, you brought your hands back to his cheeks, gently cupping them before replying, “I love that you love that you get to do that to me,” before kissing his lips once more.

Feeling Eddie’s slip under your shirt and up to your bra had you stilling for a moment, pulling back a little to look into Eddie’s eyes. The two of you hadn’t had sex yet, but he’d played with your nipples, and that’s as far as you would let him go. 

You wanted to have sex with Eddie, and he you, but neither of you voiced your thoughts on the subject. You thought that your make-out sessions and  it would just happen one day while the two of you were alone. Eddie wanted to have a conversation with you about it first because he didn’t want to feel like he was taking advantage of you.

Swallowing your nerves, you breathed a quiet, shuddering breath. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, princess?”

“Are we about to, uhm…”

Playing the hair by your ear before gently cupping your jaw, Eddie whispered, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. Okay? There’s no pressure.”

“No, no, I-I… I want to.” Trailing your fingertips over his bottom lip, you watched as you did, thinking about your next words before saying them, something your grandma had taught you in your youth. “I’ve been wanting to, but I was just gonna let nature take its course with it. Like, I wasn’t gonna stop you or anything.”

Lightly chuckling, Eddie replied, “Well, I was wanting to talk to you about it first, but since you’re just wanting nature to take its course with us having sex, I’m not opposed to it,” before kissing you, passionately.

Feeling Eddie standing from the couch, you wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands went to your ass to keep you from falling as your lips went to town on his neck.

Next thing you knew, you heard a door shut before your back met the mattress. You looked up at Eddie, seeing nothing but love and warmth and lust and passion and all the other words that describe the word “love”.

Softly smiling, you brought your hands up to cheeks, softly cupping them as your thumbs gently rubbed across his skin. After a few seconds, you breathed, “Have I told you recently that I love you?”

Eddie quietly chuckled, looking down at a random spot on your shirt. He loved hearing those words fall from your lips. “Everyday for three months, my love.” Lowering himself to his forearms to not crush you, he added, “I hope I get to hear it everyday for the rest of my life.”

“Rest assured, Edward Wayne, you will.” Running your fingers through his curly locks, you kept the smile that he permanently put on your lips. “Now, make love to me, Eddie.  I want to feel all of you.”

Before you could even lift your head to press your lips to his, Eddie leaned his down and gently placed his lips on yours. Your lips moved in a sweet, slow, and loving sync while shedding each other’s shirts and your bra, but before either of you could shed from the waist down, Eddie leaned back on his legs and reached up to remove the guitar pick necklace he wore.

When he grabbed your hands to sit you up, you  tried to protest, but Eddie being Eddie, he didn’t want to hear whatever it was you were about to say. “No. I want you to wear this. It was my first pick that I ever received.”

“Eddie, I-”

“Baby, you mean the world to me, and I would love nothing more than to see your beautiful naked ass wearing nothing but this,” he continued, holding the chain by the ends in between the two of you. “I love you. You mean everything to me.”

With tears in your eyes, you moved your hair from your neck to over your shoulder just  before Eddie leaned forward to place the necklace around your neck, fastening it  in place.

“There,” he whispered. “It looks better on you anyway.”

You couldn’t help the emotion that was washing over you.  “Kiss me, you fool.”

Laughing, Eddie placed his lips on yours once again, laying you back down. Neither of you knew how much time had passed before he placed his forehead on yours, lightly panting from the makeout sessions you two just had.

“Eds?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Are we gonna have sex now?”

Letting out a breathy chuckle, Eddie looked at you while his hand trailed down  your sternum and belly to the button on your jeans. “Yes, baby. We’re going to have sex now.”

Popping the button of your jeans, Eddie leaned back up to unzip them before pulling material, as well as your underwear, down your legs, dropping them to the floor beside him. You reached forward, popping the button on his jeans as well before sliding his zipper down.

Getting off the bed, Eddie removed his jeans and boxers, his hard cock standing at attention. Smirking while reaching into his nightstand for a condom, he asked, “Like what you see, love?”

“Oh, I very much like what I see,” you said, sliding off the bed to kneel in front of him. Without another word, you grabbed his cock while looking into his eyes before dragging your tongue on the underside of his length, feeling the prominent vein pulse.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Eddie breathed. “You gonna take my cock in your mouth?”

Not giving an answer, you took him into your mouth, closing your eyes and letting out a soft moan before bobbing your head. Sure, you’d given blowjobs before but none that you enjoyed. Even though this is your first time giving Eddie one, you were actually enjoying it… and so was Eddie.

You’ve told him stories about your hair being grabbed, or the guy facefucking you when you asked him not to do it. So, as Eddie watches you do your thing, he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Grabbing at his own hair, he leaned his head, letting out a soft, guttural “Ffffuuuuuuuucccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk,” and before he could bust his load down your throat, he reached down and tapped your cheek. “Stand up, my love.”

Standing, you looked confused, inwardly telling yourself that you already fucked up.

At seeing the look on your face, Eddie cupped your cheeks, a soft smile on his face. “If I didn’t stop you, I would’ve come down your throat. I want to be inside your pussy when I do that.”

“Well, I guess you better get to it then,” you said, smiling cheekily.

“Oh, I will. But, first, I gotta taste you.” 

Before you knew it, while giggling,  your back met the mattress again, your legs spreading before a gasp left your lips at the feeling of Eddie’s tongue on your aching cunt. “Fuck, Eddie. Holy shit.” Your brain was going a million miles an hour as Eddie lapped and sucked and kissed your core. “Oh,my–” Your words were cut off as your release hit you out of nowhere.

As Eddie kissed his way back up your stomach to  your lips, all he could do was smile, and as he kissed you, you could feel it on your lips, as well as taste yourself on your tongue. “How was that?” he asked, that smile ever present on his face.

“Fucking amazing,” you breathed. “Now, stick that cock inside me and make me come again.”

Without missing a beat, Eddie looked at the foil package in his hands, tearing it open before rolling the condom down his length. Looking down at his length, Eddie grabbed it, guiding it to your entrance, pressing the tip of his cock gently into you as he looked into your eyes. Once you gave him a nod of approval, he guided his cock inside of you, both of you groaning at the feeling of each other.

“Damn, baby,” Eddie gritted out, trying to keep his breathing in check. “You feel fucking amazing.”

“Oh, my– fuck!” You couldn’t concentrate on anything let alone form words as his cock pounded into you, your back arching the slightest bit. “That’s it, Eddie-” Moan. “Just like that. Don’t stop, baby.”

Eddie could feel sweat start to form on his brow, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours. “Fuck, baby, I don’t think-” Moan. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer.” He could feel his balls start to tighten, his impending orgasm creeping up on him. “Yeah, I won’t last much longer.”

“Keep going,”  you breathed. “I’m almost there, I’m almost–” Your own orgasm cut off  your words, your walls tightening on Eddie’s cock as he rocked his hips one, two, three more times before his own orgasm hit.

While the two of you were coming down from your highs, the only things you heard and felt were both of your heavy breathing and Eddie’s lip on your shoulder before feeling his forehead rest on yours.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered.

As you opened your eyes, a soft smile danced on your lips, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks ever so gently before replying with your own whispered words, “I love you, too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! i'm so so sorry this took forever to get out. writer' block hit me like a brick! plus, i've been reading books like crazy, and i've gone in and out of depression episode. thanks for sticking around! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: i'm trying to add the character masterlists and playlists onto all my one-shots from here on out! let me know if it makes it easier for y'all to back and choose!

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Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

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*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on November 21, 2024

[notiddygothgf]

15. An Affair

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ I'm not going home with you. ❞

★ c.w.: domestic violence, confessions (bad ones)

★ a/n: HEY GUYSSSS!! its my day off today and instead of studying I wanted to put somethin' out for my girlies. im ngl, this chapter was so hard to write, but the ending was so worth it. Y'all are gonna have such a love/hate relationship w me after this. Anyway! I hope yall enjoy! Keep those wonderful comments coming! I hope you have all been well. If not, I hope this chapter cheers you up (it prob. wont.)

★ w.c: .5.8k

shameless ; chapter index

PUBLIC SAFETY ALERT:|  Your presence has been requested at Public Safety Tokyo HQ. A mission is being assigned to you.

Seen

The morning air hung thick around the quiet school grounds, carrying a chill that made your skin prickle. Each step forward felt measured, heavy, as you walked alongside your husband, the space between you humming with unspoken tension. He walked with his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze darting toward you now and then, searching for an opening to break the silence. But you kept your eyes fixed on the road ahead, determined to keep this quiet, to push down the remnants of last night’s argument until you could forget it entirely. Or at least pretend to.

Finally, he spoke, voice soft and wary. “About last night…” He trailed off, pausing to clear his throat as if that might help the words come more easily. “I didn’t mean for things to… go that way. I was just worried. I shouldn’t have…” He let out a short, strained breath, his gaze fixed on the ground.

The apology hung in the air between you, awkward, unfinished, and you felt it tug at something inside you—a part of you that almost wanted to forgive him. Almost.

But the way he’d looked at you, the words he’d said, were still fresh, lingering like a bruise that hadn’t fully healed. A quiet, distrustful part of him had surfaced last night, and even though he seemed sorry now, that part of him was still there, waiting.

You swallowed, keeping your voice steady, measured. “Can we just… do this job?” Your words were a plea wrapped in exhaustion, and you could feel his shoulders slump, the small fight in him deflating in one slow exhale.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Sure.”

The building finally came into view, its pale brick walls rising against the sky like an empty, blank stare. Division 4 waited by the entrance, their expressions serious, their stances taut with quiet anticipation. Aki stood slightly off to the side, his posture rigid, arms folded, his gaze fixed on the school’s shadowed entrance. And even in the cool, gray light, you found him instantly, drawn to that familiar, unshakable steadiness.

You caught his eye, and for a fleeting moment, the tension in your chest eased, his gaze steadying you like an anchor. There was a question in his eyes, something soft and understanding, though it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He held your gaze just a beat too long, as if reluctant to let it go, and you felt a quiet understanding settle between you.

“Good morning!” Himeno’s voice sliced through the tension, her warm smile easing the air around you all as she approached. She waved, the familiar glow in her eyes brightening her face. “Glad to see you’re here.”

Your husband shifted beside you, his face flickering with something unreadable as his eyes lingered on Aki before he turned to Himeno, offering her a small nod. Then, as if reminding himself of his role, he extended a hand toward Aki, his expression carefully neutral, voice formal. “Captain Hayakawa.”

Aki’s gaze drifted to the offered handshake, his expression barely shifting. There was a flicker of something—disdain, perhaps, or maybe just indifference. He didn’t bother to hide it. Instead, he straightened, his face a mask of calm detachment as he looked toward the group. 

“Let’s head in,” he said smoothly, his tone level, almost too controlled. His eyes flicked back to you and your husband, impassive. “You’re late.”

Himeno’s gaze flickered from you to Aki, a faint smile tugging at her lips, as if she could read the silent tension, though she chose not to comment. She was sharp that way, perceptive to the smallest changes, though she kept her observations to herself, a quiet ally in the awkwardness.

He’s so hot when he plays captain.

Your husband’s hand dropped back to his side, his face momentarily tightening before he carefully masked it, his expression becoming a careful blankness. He took a step back, composing himself as he fell into line behind you, saying nothing.

Aki kept his gaze forward, ignoring the unspoken friction that lingered in the air, his posture steady, unbothered. But you could sense the tension simmering just beneath the surface, in the slight shift of his shoulders, in the way he held his jaw just a bit too tight.

As the group began moving toward the building, you found yourself drawn beside Aki, his presence a steadying force that you clung to, even as you kept a careful distance. The two of you fell into step, shoulders almost brushing, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him despite the cold around you. He kept his eyes forward, his expression giving nothing away, but the quiet understanding between you both was enough.

Your husband walked behind you now, his steps deliberate, and though he said nothing, you could feel the weight of his gaze flickering between you and Aki. There was a guardedness in his posture, a watchfulness that lingered in the space between you all, like he was waiting for something to confirm whatever suspicions still lingered in his mind.

The school loomed closer, its windows dark, reflecting the dull gray sky back at you, and as you approached, a strange, unsettling stillness settled over the group. The building seemed to watch you all with an empty, silent gaze, as if daring you to step inside, to disturb whatever lay waiting in its shadows.

The building swallowed you up the moment you stepped inside, closing in around the group like a mouth with bated breath. Aki’s flashlight flicked on, cutting through the darkness in a narrow beam that skimmed over half-open lockers and scattered shoes left behind in haste. Stray papers littered the ground, pages from abandoned notebooks catching the flashlight’s glow, rustling softly with each step, as if stirred to life by your passing.

You stayed close to Aki, moving at his side, careful not to draw too near but finding comfort in his steady, unwavering pace. Beside him, you could let your own unease simmer beneath the surface, half-hidden, masked by his calm. Every now and then, he shifted the flashlight to scan further down the hall, his expression as unreadable as ever, and yet, in the quiet, a tension simmered. He was prepared, senses sharpened; you knew by the way his shoulder brushed yours in the narrow passage, felt by the slightest tightening of his grip on the flashlight.

Behind you, your husband walked a few steps back, his silence no less present. He didn’t have to say anything for you to feel the way he observed, his eyes moving between you and Aki with a cautious deliberation. The weight of his gaze lingered on the spaces between you, where he seemed to search for something neither spoken nor visible, yet unmistakable.

The halls echoed with your footfalls and the quiet hum of distant lights that hadn’t yet died out completely. The building had the eerie feel of a place left suddenly, like whoever had been here had simply vanished mid-motion. The lockers were open, contents strewn about as if someone had been in too much of a rush to close them properly. Shoes and scattered backpacks lined the floor, small details that added an unsettling familiarity to the strangeness around you. It felt like walking through a memory someone had tried to erase.

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Himeno whispered, her voice breaking through the quiet like the flutter of a bird’s wings. She kept close to Denji, her eyes darting around, and he gave a tight grin, though his shoulders were wound tense, his hand twitching at his side.

Aki didn’t respond, just kept his eyes forward, his flashlight sweeping the walls and floor as he led you through the darkened hallways. The silence settled back over the group, thickening as you continued deeper into the building. You reached the cafeteria, its entrance looming before you like the mouth of a cavern. Aki stepped over a fallen backpack just inside, his flashlight catching on the glint of scattered utensils and trays, and Denji followed close behind, moving with a quiet intensity that belied his usual carelessness. He lingered near the doorway, casting a quick glance at Aki before slipping further inside, putting a bit of distance between them as though seeking his own sense of direction, away from Aki’s unspoken authority.

You stepped in as well, your heart beating faster as the room stretched before you in a dim, empty sprawl. Anxiety simmered in your chest, the stillness of the place pressing down harder with each step. It was as if something waited just beyond the edges of the flashlight’s reach, lurking in the corners, lying in wait. You forced yourself to take a steady breath, though the question lingered, unsettling in its quiet persistence: Why hadn’t anything happened yet?

Then, Aki’s voice, low but clear, cut through the quiet. “Do you hear that?”

You stopped, tilting your head to listen. “What?” you whispered, your eyes scanning the dim shadows around you.

“There’s a… ticking sound,” he replied, his brow furrowing as he tilted the flashlight upward, his gaze following the beam to scan the high, shadowed ceiling.

Himeno stepped forward, moving cautiously, her eyes narrowing as she glanced around the room. “I don’t see anything,” she murmured, her tone wavering.

Aki’s attention sharpened, and he moved deeper into the room, his flashlight focusing on the rows of overturned tables and chairs, like soldiers abandoned mid-march. He stopped in front of an industrial oven, the source of the faint ticking that had drawn his attention. He bent down, inspecting it closely before he turned back to you all, his voice tense. “Stand back,” he ordered, gesturing for everyone to move away as he prepared to open it.

The group took a few steps back, a collective breath held as Aki swung the oven door open. The flashlight revealed only empty racks and dust, nothing to suggest any real danger, and yet the ticking persisted, faint but insistent.

Aki straightened, glancing back toward you all with a small shake of his head. “Nothing in there.”

The moment he spoke, a low rumble began, a tremor that sent vibrations through the floor. You looked to him, worry blooming as he took a step backward, his attention still on the others as if to reassure you all—but before he could say a word, the wall behind him burst open with a deafening crack.

Dust and debris exploded into the air, and Aki was thrown forward, his body slammed by a wave of rubble that crashed over him. He fell hard, hitting the ground as chunks of concrete and metal scattered around him. You staggered back, your breath catching as the sound of the explosion reverberated in your ears, muffling everything but the thundering of your own heartbeat.

Your ears were ringing, your head was throbbing, yet all you could think was – Aki.

The moment you saw him lying there, still and silent, everything around you faded into a muted blur. A distant voice, your husband’s, drifted from behind you, sounding strained and far away. 

“I’m here,” he called out, steady but cautious, like he was trying to anchor you, but it barely registered. 

The sight of Aki’s limp body, his chest unmoving, was all you could see. You moved past everyone—blind to the dust, the debris, and even the sharp sting in your own side—your legs carrying you to him without thought.

“Aki!” The shout tore from your throat before you could stop it, raw with a panic you couldn’t hold back. You rushed forward, your hands trembling as you stumbled over the debris, your focus locked on Aki’s crumpled form amid the settling dust – professional names be damned.

Dropping to your knees beside him, you reached out, cradling his head in your lap, your hands trembling as you gently lifted his face toward yours. Your fingers found their way to his cheeks, then to his brow, tracing the slight furrow still etched into it, as though he had fought to stay conscious even until the last moment. He was still warm, but his skin was too pale. It was as if the entire world had come to a halt around you. Somewhere behind, you could sense the others standing in stunned silence, unmoving. How could they just stand there, watching? The love of your life could be slipping away, and they were frozen.

Love of my life…

The thought stopped you cold, a rush of fear and realization so profound it almost hurt. Had it really taken you that long to realize it?

“He’s alive,” you whispered, your voice hoarse, so quiet you could hardly recognize it as your own.

From the corner of your eye, you saw your husband watching, his face tense but unreadable, taking in the scene with a look of guarded apprehension. He didn’t say anything, though you felt his gaze linger as you checked Aki’s pulse, letting yourself believe, even if for a moment, that everything might be okay.

Himeno limped toward you, her face pale and streaked with dust, though her eyes were focused. Denji hovered nearby, his gaze shifting nervously between Aki and the rest of the room, his usual bravado strangely absent.

A slow, mocking laugh echoed through the darkness, slicing through the tension. The sound sent a chill down your spine, and Himeno’s gaze snapped toward the source, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “Shit. He’s here,” she muttered, glancing down at you. “You’re bleeding.”

You blinked, looking down at your side, only just noticing the thick patch of blood soaking through your shirt. A sharp pain throbbed beneath your ribs, and you inhaled unsteadily, trying to keep your focus. You had been so concerned with Aki, you hadn’t noticed that a stray piece of metal from the inside of the wall had embedded itself into your side.

“He’s barely breathing,” you said, fighting to keep your voice steady. “We have to call for help.”

Your ears were ringing, the edges of the room swimming slightly as adrenaline surged and ebbed in rapid waves. Himeno looked at you, her expression torn, her face bruised and her breathing labored. But then she nodded, her decision clear. “Call for help,” she instructed firmly. “You stay with him and keep checking his pulse until they arrive. The rest of you,” she turned to Denji and your husband, “are coming with me. Let’s put this bastard down.”

Nodding, you reached for Aki’s walkie-talkie, your fingers slipping slightly as you clutched the radio and pressed the call button. Your voice cracked as you spoke. “This is… this is urgent. Aki’s down. He’s unconscious, barely breathing. He’s bleeding out—we need immediate backup.”

The rest of the group slipped away – Your husband cast you one final glance before following suit, leaving you and your lover alone with nothing but the deafening silence to accompany you.

The silence that followed felt endless, punctuated only by the faint static from the walkie-talkie and Aki’s faint, irregular breaths. You swallowed, trying to keep your focus even as your hands began to shake.

“Stay with me, Aki,” you whispered, brushing a lock of hair from his face, your fingers lingering on his cheek, willing him to open his eyes, to just look at you. But he remained still, each shallow breath a reminder of how close you had come to losing him.

Fifteen minutes later—though it felt like hours—help arrived. Three officers rushed in, their faces taut with concern as they took in the scene. One of them, a man you vaguely recognized, gave you a solemn nod before crouching down beside you, reaching for Aki. His hands were gentle, but the thought of someone else touching him, moving him, felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

“We’ve got him now,” he said quietly, but when he reached out to lift Aki, a desperate surge of protectiveness made you tighten your hold.

“No—” The word left your lips before you could stop it, raw and laced with panic. But they gently pried him from your arms, and the separation felt like a wound opening wide, a visceral ache that made it hard to breathe.

You clutched your bleeding side, your vision blurring as you tried to steady yourself. A thick, aching pain throbbed in your chest as you watched them begin to lift him, every instinct screaming to stay by his side. You had to follow. You had to make sure he would be okay.

“Aiko,” one of the officers said, his voice firm yet gentle, nodding toward the door. “Take them outside.”

He moved beside Aki, lifting him carefully, and without another word, he threw one of Aki’s arms over his shoulder, giving you a brief, determined glance. “Come on. Grab his other side.”

Wordlessly, you nodded, stepping forward and slipping your arm around Aki’s waist, bracing him as you lifted his other arm over your shoulder. The weight of him pressed against you, grounding you, and you forced yourself to keep moving, even as every step felt like a jagged edge digging deeper into your side.

With each step toward the exit, the fresh air grew closer, yet the world felt hazy, every breath heavy with worry and the knowledge that nothing would ever feel certain until he opened his eyes again.

As you moved to lean over, easing Aki into the seat beside you, a sharp, searing pain suddenly tore up your side, fierce enough to make you gasp. Your hand slipped, and you nearly dropped him, his weight sagging as you stumbled back, struggling to catch your breath. It took everything you had to hold steady, to keep your balance, gritting your teeth as you fought to ignore the blooming heat spreading across your ribs.

Aiko, his face furrowing with concern, caught sight of the blood soaking through your shirt. “Shit, are you bleeding?” he asked, eyes widening as he looked from you to the deep red stain.

The pain was settling into something fierce and relentless, throbbing with each shallow breath you took. You nodded, barely able to speak through the tightness in your chest, feeling the sting pulse along every nerve.

Without hesitation, Aiko steadied Aki, shifting his weight to settle him securely into the back seat of the car. Then he turned to you, his tone calm but firm as he took in your paling face and shaking hands. “We’re taking you to the hospital too. Both of you,” he said, cutting off any protest before you could muster one. “Get in the car. Other side.”

The finality in his voice made it clear there was no room for argument, and even if you wanted to push back, your strength was dwindling. You bit down against the pain, making your way around to the other side, sliding in opposite Aki. The weight of the seat seemed to press into your side, aggravating the wound as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You glanced over at Aki, his face still pale, breaths shallow as he lay slumped against the seat.

As the car started up, you shifted carefully, reaching over to lay his head in your lap. The feel of him there—fragile, the warmth of his skin faint against your touch—steadied you. Your fingers brushed over his hair, gentle and soothing, a small comfort as you tried to hold back the trembling in your hands.

Aiko turned to the driver. “Take them both straight to the hospital, now.”

The engine rumbled to life, and the car jolted forward, pulling you away from the scene, the night blurring past as the streetlights flickered over you in a stream of dim light. You adjusted yourself slowly, angling your body to support Aki’s head in your lap without disturbing your wound, even as the pain persisted, gnawing with every bump and turn. But you didn’t care; all that mattered was keeping him close, reassuring yourself with each faint breath he took, each barely-there rise and fall of his chest.

You focused on his face, his closed eyes and furrowed brows, his features softened in unconsciousness, untouched by his usual sharpness and guarded restraint. It was almost peaceful—if not for the bruises beginning to form along his cheek, the small streaks of blood that marred his skin. You reached up, wiping away a smudge of dust from his forehead, the simple act anchoring you to the moment, grounding you in the steady silence of the drive.

The pain in your side was starting to numb, fading into a distant ache as the adrenaline dulled your senses. But the reality of it all—the weight of what had happened, the fear that had gripped you—settled heavily over you like a thick fog, refusing to lift. You leaned back, eyes never leaving Aki’s face, your hand resting gently on his shoulder as the car carried you both toward the hospital, away from the shadows of that place.

In the quiet, with the hum of the engine and the soft darkness around you, it was just the two of you, a fragile peace holding steady as you waited for help, the tension of the night still lingering but softened by the small, steady assurance of his presence in your lap, the nauseating fear as you whispered again, 

“Stay with me, Aki.”

The moment you had been cleared to leave the hospital some three or four hours later, you found out what room Aki was staying in and rushed right over. There he was – stable, albeit not in very good shape. He was still asleep (which the attending nurse had said something about earlier, something along the lines of a medically-induced sleep). His skin was a little more colorful now, but still pale. He was donning the same hospital gown you had been wearing a few hours earlier, hair down out of it’s typical style and splayed out over the pillow. His vitals were being monitored on a screen on the other side of his hospital bed – an IV dripped syrupy-looking medicine into his veins.

He was achingly beautiful, even now. You stood off to the side of his bed, arms crossed nervously over your chest, fingers being chewed by your teeth. You didn’t know how long you had been waiting there – hell, you hadn’t even checked your phone since you had been discharged.

A pit in your stomach made it impossible to eat, even if you had certainly worked up quite the appetite. You didn’t want to leave his bedside, even for a moment. Any moment, he could slip away – slip through your fingertips and leave you for good (even if the doctors told you he was stable).

You stood at Aki’s bedside, rooted in place, the room spinning slowly around you as the weight of your own feelings sank in, cold and unstoppable. You’d been forced to confront it back there in the rubble, but now, with him lying so still before you, there was no denying it. Aki was the love of your life. 

The realization hit you again like a wave crashing over your head, pulling you under. He was it—the person you’d been circling, moving toward all this time without even knowing it. And if you lost him, you didn’t know how you’d survive it. The thought alone was enough to make the air feel thin, the walls closing in as you struggled to catch a full breath.

Aki looked almost serene under the fluorescent hospital lights, his face softened and bare, no longer hidden behind his usual quiet guard. His hair lay messily across the pillow, spilling across his forehead, casting delicate shadows over his cheeks. He looked painfully beautiful, achingly real in a way that left you feeling raw, vulnerable. And you knew then that you had been clinging to him, maybe all along, without even realizing it. There was something in his presence that grounded you, something you couldn’t name, but now that you had it, you didn’t know how you’d live without it. Without him.

A hollow ache twisted in your stomach, and you crossed your arms tightly over your chest, as if you could keep yourself from unraveling entirely. What if you’d lost him before you ever had the chance to tell him—before he knew what he meant to you? The thought stabbed at you, fierce and unrelenting. You tried to imagine a world where he wasn’t here, where he’d slipped away in those moments of silence and chaos, and the thought alone felt like stepping into an endless void, cold and unforgiving. 

What would you do if he left, if he was gone? How would you wake up each morning knowing he wasn’t there, wasn’t just a few steps away, grounding you in the only way he knew how—without even trying?

You swallowed hard, biting down against the well of emotions, feeling the sting of it all build in your throat. Your fingers trembled, itching to reach out, to grasp his hand, to feel the pulse of life beneath his skin. But you couldn’t bear it—couldn’t bear to feel the fragility of him, couldn’t stand the thought of his warmth fading, of his presence slipping away from you forever.

It was the one thing you couldn’t lose. Not him. 

And as you stood there, heart pounding, head spinning, you swore that if he woke up, you’d find a way to make him understand that—how much he meant to you, how deeply he had become a part of you. How he was the only one who ever truly had loved you.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts. Without waiting for an answer, the door slid open, and in stepped Tanimoto, brown eyes somber like he knew he was the last person you wanted to see.

You looked at him, and suddenly, your mouth ran dry. What more was there to say? One look into his eyes, and you knew there was no need to clarify.

He understood, now. Everything.

He cleared his throat, “Hey.”

“Hey,” You said back, voice hoarse from all of the crying you had done before he came, from shouting Aki’s name the moment that wall blew up. “How’d the mission go?”

It was then that you realized – you couldn’t possibly have been less concerned with his well being on the mission since he had left you there with Aki in your arms, too preoccupied with the state of your lover to care.

“It went alright,” He sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t dare to move any closer, standing a considerable distance away from you, like he wasn’t sure whether or not approaching you would be the best idea. “It wound up being the school lunch devil, or some shit like that. A real small fry, but he wound up having a piece of the gun devil’s flesh. That would explain the…” He glanced over at Captain Hayakawa’s sleeping form, wincing at his condition, “Explosion.”

There was a pause. A long, drawn out silence, during which neither of you made eye contact. Your husband was the first one to breach it.

“Look, I was going to apologize about what I said last night, but… after today– after what I saw back there, I… I’ve been thinking of what I’d say to you,” He finally – finally – approached the elephant in the room, avoiding your gaze the entire time (not that it left Aki). He paused again to release a trembling breath. “Am I… mistaken? About you and him?”

Your eyes began to water before you knew it. It was as if everything from the past few hours – past few days had finally come crashing down on you. In one heart-aching moment, the world you had spent all of your time building up – the lies, all of it – came to a standstill. 

And it was then that you realized you didn’t have the strength to lie to him anymore. Not when the love of your life was sitting right there.

So you swallowed the lump in your throat, taking a moment to build up the icy resolve you desperately needed before you answered slowly.

 “No. You’re not mistaken,” You breathed. “I’m his mistress. I’m having an affair.”

And there it was.

The words hung in the air, heavy and irreversible, cutting through the sterile quiet of the hospital room. You could see the impact ripple across his face, a flicker of pain breaking through his carefully maintained calm before he composed himself again, pressing his tongue into his cheek as he nodded, slow and mechanical. The look in his eyes sharpened, darkening to something you could hardly recognize, and a tremor of fear crawled up your spine.

You had expected this moment to feel like some kind of release, like pulling off a bandage and letting the wound breathe. But as you looked at him, at the silent fury and restrained hurt carved into his features, a different kind of fear settled over you—one that made your body tense, instinctively bracing for whatever he might do next.

You couldn’t stop the shaking. It started in your hands, then moved through your shoulders, until your whole body felt unsteady, as if it could collapse under the weight of what you’d just admitted. The question pressed itself into your mind, unbidden: would he hit you? Here, in this sterile, fluorescent-lit space with Aki lying beside you? It felt like a violation, the idea of violence in a place that was supposed to be safe, where people came to heal. But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew it wasn’t impossible.

To your shock, though, he didn’t raise a hand. He only let out a slow, exhausted breath, his shoulders slumping, as though the anger was something that would consume him from within rather than burst out. "I knew it," he muttered, his voice tight and shaking. He swallowed hard, but there was no break, no moment of hesitation as he spoke again. “I knew it from the start, but I thought—” He cut himself off, staring at you with that cold, assessing gaze that felt like he was searching for any sign of regret, any hint that you cared about what this was doing to him. “You don’t even sound the least bit sorry about it, do you?”

There it was—a blow sharper than any slap or strike, his words digging in deep, meant to hurt. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came, just a hollow, empty ache that left you frozen. Because the truth was, no matter how you tried to twist it, he was right. You weren’t sorry. Not about loving Aki, not about the way you felt when you looked at him, even lying in a hospital bed, his face softened and beautiful in the stark light.

“I’m not. I don’t regret it,” You retorted, a little bolder, now that the cat was finally out of the bag. What more was there to lose? Straightening your shoulders, you added, “We’re in love.”

He glanced at Aki. A cold, humorless laugh left his lips. When he glanced back at you, there wasn’t even an ounce of affection for you – all that was left was hatred, the same hatred you felt for him.

Before you could part your lips to speak again, he was craning his hand back – then there was a familiar sting.

He had hit you. Again.

And the worst part was that you couldn’t even bring yourself to oppose it. A moment of sickening silence passed before he spoke again.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” He spoke calmly, calculatedly, but you could hear the anger that seeped through his words. “This will be the last time you see him. You are to never speak of him again, or of this, and in exchange, I’ll let you keep the money and the house… and your life back at home.”

You swallowed, refusing to let him see the full extent of the hurt. It was nothing you hadn’t weathered before. And besides, the pain only sharpened the resolve forming inside you, stealing something that had felt soft, uncertain before. You weren’t backing down this time.

He watched you with an icy expression, something gleaming in his eyes that made you feel small, like a child being reprimanded, caught out in a lie you could barely understand. You gnawed the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your eyes stung. He’d hit you, yes, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest, the hollowed-out feeling that had grown deeper with each beat of this tense, bitter silence.

His voice was sharp as he leaned in, his words clipped and venomous. “You can see him this one final time, and then it’s over,” he sneered. “That’s what you wanted, right? To see him?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and without thinking, you shot back, “Yes, but not to say goodbye.”

He stilled, his expression darkening, mouth twisting into something half incredulous, half enraged. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

But you’d started now, and there was no way to take it back. The words spilled out, gathering momentum as you spoke, voice steadying with each syllable. “Yes,” you repeated, stronger this time, voice firm. “But not to say goodbye.”

He looked at you like you were unhinged, something unfamiliar and unfathomable to him, and his lip curled with distaste. “You’re insane,” he spat, barely keeping his voice in check. “You’re hopeless. You’re married. It’s time to wake up and go home.”

The word married twisted inside you, feeling more like a chain than a bond, something cold and suffocating. And in that instant, as he spat the word out, you knew there was no future left here, no home in this hollow arrangement he was calling marriage.

And then, you dropped the second bomb of the evening.

“I’m not going home with you.” Your voice was quiet but clear, the words like iron. You felt something break free within you, some final tether to the life you’d been clinging to.

“I want a divorce.”

a/n: MUAHHHHHAHAHAAA!! OH MY GODDDD. it feels so good to finally write those words, you guys have NO idea. sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger, tho, you know i couldn't resist. To think that hours and hours and hours of my time have been poured into reaching THIS moment. Omg. We're reaching the climax of the story! Please let me know what you guys want to see happen before the story ends in the comments, or just drop by and say hello. I hope yall are as hyped for the next chapter as i am. Will y/n stand her ground? Or will she pussy out? Who knows (I do)? Stay tuned!!! Q of the Day: have you heard Rauw Alejandro's new album? (If not, what are you doing?)

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

[blueberri-blu]

Beyond the Binary ⊹ฺ๑

You come out as Non-Binary [Rise]Donnie & Leo

[rise]donnie x gn!reader (they/them)

[rise]Leo x gn!reader (they/them)

Raph & Mikey (wip)

Leo

He.. is a little confused

Doesn't entirely know what it means, but when you explain it he just implodes

"wait wait... So... Youre not a boy""no""and youre not a girl?""no"

"So you're like... Your own deal?"

"I guess so, yeah"

"well... Of Course you are! There is only the best for moi! You are my cool, sexy, mysterious s/o!"

He thinks rightfully so that being non binary is just 10x better than being a boy or a girl

"So many opportunities!!"

Believes that you should be worshipped, he already did, but now it's to make you feel validated and seen because "only a true Deity would be as unique as you"

He will challenge anyone who doesn't use your pronouns even after telling them

"Well, THEY are the absolute best thing ever, and YOU could never ever compare in any way!"

On days you feel like you're unsure or maybe even think you're faking it, Leos there to hype you up!

"well, I mean, if you think about it, being a boy/girl is.. really boring" "what?" "Well, Yea, I mean, they have like, set societal norms they wanna fit into and well... You don't want to! That's really cool and rebellious, plus, you have a mysterious aura around you! Making you almost just as good as moi!"

"In a world of Boys and Girls, you are a Star!"

He might not get it at first, but he works to understand you, and just absolutely adores you!

⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑

Donnie

Donnie definitely knows what it is, probably feels a little similar, but decided not to put a label on it

"Hmm well, I do suppose it's to be expected, you have almost never seemed as optimistic with your old pronouns"

He seems to make the pronoun adjustment immediately, not struggling at all

He holds this expectation to his brothers as well, so if any of them accidentally slip up, he will give them "death glare" while killing them with his eyes

He is very supportive of you in little ways

If you're out for everyone, anything he makes for you will have a small, subtle nb flag on it

If youre ever feeling down about your identity, Donnie will either send SHELLDON with some of your comfort items or

If you're really really feeling bad, he will allow you to get physical comfort if that's what you want

If not, although he isn't good with words, he will try his best

He just wants you to feel better as soon as possible

Donnie believes that being non binary has absolutely no affect on your personality, nor you as a person

So he won't outright compliment you on being non binary

But instead will compliment you on things you've expressed insecurities about before

"Hm that shirt doesn't exude male or female qualities, every dumb dumb will be unsure of your gender all day"

In the end, Donnie doesn't care how you identify, all he cares about is that you love and understand him, and he will do the same to you <3

This is a little short, but I'm thinking of doing some one shots with a nonbinary reader! I hope y'all enjoyed this! (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

[princekirijo]

How are we doing folks this fine Wednesday

[mulletmitsuya]

before i proceed, this is not a hate post!!! i am just saying things

i need people to understand that part of shinichiro's "charm" and appeal as a character, is that he isn't as good as people pointed him out to be. he's not the best person in the world. he isn't an "uwu" goody two shoes. he's pretty flawed and kinda selfish sometimes. he has good intentions ofc, but most of the time, they fall flat because of the outcome. and before people argue with me, lemme pull out some receipts

sano shinichiro has:

told haruchiyo to forgive mikey for uh *checks notes* mutilating his face

said "that's just how he is" in reference to haruchiyo swinging a katana at people and ending up in jail because of it

disregarded haruchiyo's mental health when it came to time leaping and made him shoulder the burden of his demented younger brother (😭)

gave an 8 year old time leaping powers because he had good vibes

murdered someone

let's stop pretending he didn't do anything wrong. love shinichiro for who he is!! a huge fucking idiot who has no foresight. with a really big heart, that is slightly compromised. because he's probably a traumatized kid. not like he had to raise his younger siblings with no support or anything. his mom died and his dad was a fucking hoe, then he died without ever being present in his life. the guy had it rough which in turn made him a little rough. i don't understand how you can like a character by fabricating facts about them and denying the actual...facts. i hate some of the things that shin has done, but i still love him. i am a true shin fan because i accept that he's fucking great and an inspiration to so many people but he's also kinda awful a bit <33.

(this post was inspired by a post @chaoticdelinqueerwithglitter made but idk how to link things!!! so check out their blog :))

[sainz100]

Fernando Alonso arriving on Media Day ahead of the 2024 Singapore GP | 📸 by Denzyl KY

[stinkyhyena9000]

Buster Moon Stimboard !!

For my Sing friends still out there, here's some food for y'all

🤍 💙 🤍 | 💙 🐨 💙 | 🤍 💙 🤍

Totally non-abrupt segway to a sentimental message:..

I just wanted to thank all of you for hosting such a lovely and wholesome fandom. I love we're a small community, but y'all have always made me feel so extremely loved, and I'm glad have had y'all be my first and sofar only fandom experience.

Please never stop making art and writing stories!

[dollypopup]

y'all can all cancel me (again) for this, but if there's even a SHRED of 'who should I pick?' from Penelope in season 3, I am tuning out SO fast because like. . .sorry not sorry, there IS no choice. Debling is some crusty OC suitor she barely even knows and Colin is a man who she has been so supposedly in love with to the point where she'd ruin her entire family's reputation to have a potential love story with him. Penelope and Colin have background, years of knowing each other, intimacy that few people in the Ton can boast of having (letters, conversations about purpose, fights and arguments and makeups) and her and Debling have. . .a dance or two at a ball because he's a rebound for Penelope's broken heart. he means nothing. he has no nuance, he has no weight to the story, he is such an afterthought to me. either I wanna see Penelope going 'you know what? I don't even LIKE this dude. he's. . .fine, but I don't care about him even a shred as much as I care about Colin' or the INSTANT Colin's like 'you know what? we should get married' if it's not an immediate 'say less, you're already my husband, try returning me without the receipt, Debling whomst?' then I don't want it!

like. . .it's just so frustrating to see all the 'I hope Debling sweeps her off her feet and she rejects Colin's proposal and she makes him work for it and and and-' nonsense from the fandom and it's always tagged and no matter how many times I block it, it just keeps popping up. I go into the Polin tag for POLIN. I don't give a SHIT about a male love interest other than Colin. Not one. Not a shred. Not an iota.

and also. . .Debling has the 'benefit' of not having depth, or character traits, or HISTORY, so peeps can project onto him however they want, but I'm calling it now, there is NOTHING he could do or be that would make me like him more than Colin. Colin will always hit different, and I will always love him more. and if Pen's not on that same page? lol bye

you want me to believe Penelope and Colin are soulmates and it's romance for her to hem and haw about how difficult a decision it is for her to marry a stranger who knows barely anything about her. . .

when Marina was out here dropping banger lines like 'You were the only man with which I could see myself being happy' and 'I do not care about any of these men, where is Colin?'? like hello??? and she wasn't even fully in love with him!!!! but we'll demonize her until the cows come home in our fandom and make her the villain in Polin's love story for DARING to get in between Polin, yet Debling, a white man, is a darling dear perfect prince for getting in between Polin? existing in our fandom solely so Penelope can be like 'lol, Colin ain't shit, let me entertain any and everyone else'?

if that's the direction it goes then, ten toes down and on my mama, she doesn't deserve Colin and she can move because I'm on my way to court him my damn self

and that's that on that

[taegularities]

just thinking thoughts

[outislovescomics]

sorry you're not getting any intelligent thoughts out of me for the next 7-12 hours

[koishua]

will be cutting out all processed sugars. thank you and pls wish me luck

[coollyinterferes]

"Back by unpopular demand:"

"Us!"

[whysamwhy123]

.