#even when i was talking about the jacket the other day

[coryndoll]

chrysanthemums ₍₂₎

drew starkey x reader zombie apocalypse au

— “you’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

content: zombies, weapons, violence, reader lowk opening up more to drew, short little filler but it introduces the journey theyll go on together !

authors note: guys i started tvd n omggg. anyway if u arent part of the tag list, feel free to lmk thru replies, dms, anons, or reblogs !!

previous

the next few days pass in a blur of footsteps, scavenging, and silence. you, drew, and the dog—who you’ve officially named dog because of his lack of collar and your shared inability to come up with something better—keep moving. drew joked that dog might just be a stray wandering the ruins, but it leaves the uncomfortable question hanging between you two: could animals get zombified too? you’ve been leaning toward no, but the thought lingers, a constant what-if.

meanwhile, drew’s been keeping his distance sometimes, falling into a quiet rhythm that matches your pace without crowding you. it’s a small mercy, really, that he knows when to leave you alone.

you’re not trying to be cruel, but attachments feel pointless these days. they don’t lead to anything good. someone always ends up bitten, or worse, you run into people who think survival means stepping on others. either way, someone gets left behind.

so what’s the point in getting close?

you pull your jacket tighter against the chilly air as you enter another building. it’s small, half-collapsed, with broken windows and a roof that looks like it might give out if the wind hits just right. dog pads in first, sniffing the ground like he owns the place. you follow, stepping carefully over shattered glass, while drew lingers near the doorway, his hand brushing against the baseball bat strapped to his pack.

he asks casually, like it doesn’t mean much, “have you been headed anywhere specific?”

you ignore him at first, your focus on a shelf in the corner. a dusty can catches your eye, and you pick it up, squinting at the label. it’s dented, the writing smudged. it’s empty though. you flip it out of your hand onto the table with a clatter, then sigh as you look away.

dog is sniffing something near the far wall, his tail wagging just enough to show he’s entertained. you watch him for a second, then pull your hair back, twisting it into place and clipping it up. crouching down, you start searching through the bottom racks.

when drew doesn’t get an answer, he moves. his footsteps are slow but deliberate, and when he swings around the doorframe into your space, you know he’s not going to drop it.

“you going to tell me?” he asks again, his voice softer but still persistent.

you can feel his eyes on you as you sift through the mess on the floor. papers, broken glass, an empty bottle. nothing useful.

your hand pauses, brushing against the knife strapped to your belt. it’s instinctive now, keeping it close, even when drew’s around. especially when he’s around.

finally, you clear your throat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before rubbing the back of your neck. the words come slower than you want them to. “i’ve heard rumors. about a place.”

he raises an eyebrow. “a place? what kind of place?”

you push yourself to stand, reaching for his hand to steady yourself as you rise. “clarenora beck,” you say, watching his face for any sign of recognition.

nothing.

“who the hell is that?”

you scoff, dropping his hand and dusting off your palms. “it’s not a person, dipshit. it’s a settlement.” you turn and start moving again, still in talking distance as you scan a half-broken cabinet.

“it’s supposed to be a safe haven for survivors,” you explain, pulling open a drawer and frowning at the empty contents. “not the biggest, but the safest apparently. they say it’s guarded, got crops, animals, people who actually give a damn. a home.”

he follows, a few feet behind, picking through the debris on a nearby counter. “and you’re trying to find it?”

“trying to see if it’s real,” you admit, your voice quieter. “no one really knows where it is, not exactly. part of me thinks it’s just a rumor. but if it’s real . . .” you trail off, shaking your head.

he stops, leaning against the counter, studying you. “where’s it supposed to be?”

you hesitate, your hand hovering over a dusty jar before moving on. “far,” you say at first, hoping he’ll let it go.

he doesn’t.

eventually, you sigh, turning to face him. “vermont.”

he freezes, staring at you like you’ve just sprouted another head. “you’re joking.”

“nope.”

“vermont.” he repeats it slowly, like he’s trying to process. “do you know how far that is?”

you shrug, already turning back to your search into another room. “not like i’ve got anywhere better to be.”

drew follows you through, his footsteps softer now, trying not to trip over dog as he tails you. dog pauses at the edge of a room, sniffing at the base of a crumbling wall, and drew nearly stumbles right into him because he’s too busy watching you instead of where he’s going. you don’t notice—or you pretend not to—and he mutters something under his breath, stepping over dog and catching up with you.

"and you don’t even know exactly where it is?” his voice cuts through the quiet. “what, are you just gonna explore ten thousand miles ‘til you find it?”

you pause, jaw tightening as you pull a can off a shelf and turn it over in your hands, examining it for any dents or signs of damage. he’s waiting for an answer you don’t feel like giving. you toss the can onto the table with a hollow thud and move to crouch by the lower shelves, brushing dust off a few boxes.

he doesn’t stop, leaning casually against a doorframe and fiddling with a blade he pulled from his pocket. “seriously, what else do you even know about this place?”

you sigh. “i’ve had leads,” you say finally, your voice quieter. “a month or two back, i ran into these two people passing through. one of them told me about it—clarenora. said it was worth looking for.”

drew raises a brow, his interest caught now. “and you believed them?”

“not at first,” you admit, straightening up and wiping your hands on your jeans. “i didn’t even think about it again ‘til later. but they told me something . . . something people who are looking for clarenora pass along.”

he’s watching you now, his fidgeting with the blade slowing. “what’d they say?”

you hesitate, knowing how ridiculous it’ll sound once it’s out in the open. “they said . . . ‘strike c-4 in the heart of daisy.’”

there’s a beat of silence, the faint shuffle of dog nosing through debris the only sound. drew stares at you like you’ve just spoken in another language.

“okay,” he says slowly, his tone dripping with skepticism. “what the hell does that even mean?”

“i don’t know,” you reply, voice clipped. “and if you’re gonna complain about it, save it. i told you, i didn’t have anywhere better to be.”

he doesn’t say anything, just keeps watching you with that same unreadable expression. you turn away, already regretting telling him, already bracing for the inevitable whining and questions. but instead, he leans back against the doorframe, slipping the blade back into his pocket.

“‘strike c-4 in the heart of daisy,’ huh?” he murmurs, almost to himself. “we’ll figure it out.”

you glance at him over your shoulder, surprised but unwilling to let it show. instead, you turn your attention back to the shelves, ignoring the way his words linger in the air.

you approach another table in the corner, its surface layered with dust and scattered with useless junk. broken pencils, faded wrappers, and scraps of paper clutter the space, but you push through it all, your hand rattling noisily across the debris.

something catches your eye further down the table. you reach for it, leaning in slightly, when a decayed hand shoots out from a gaping hole in the broken wall behind the table.

you yelp, the sound sharp and instinctive, and it alerts drew who whips around. before you can think, your hand is on the knife at your belt, pulling it free and slamming it down into the rotting hand. the knife crunches through bone, pinning the thing in place as you stumble back a step, your heart racing.

you back up into drew, your hand immediately reaching out to gesture dog closer. he obeys without hesitation, slipping to your side.

drew pulls his baseball bat from where it hangs across his back, gripping it firmly. its head is littered with nails and screws, jagged and sharp, and he seems almost grateful for the added weight. you tighten your hold on your knife, your gaze snapping to the doorway as an empty lumbers in, drawn by the noise.

without hesitating, you dart forward, slashing the blade across its temple. the thing crumples, but another two stumble through from drew’s side.

he purses his lips, muttering a quiet, “here we go,” before he kicks one in the chest, sending it staggering back. with a quick swing, his bat arcs through the air, landing with a sickening crunch in the nearest empty’s skull. blood splatters across his shirt, but he doesn’t stop. he yanks the bat free, twisting it with a grunt, and swings again.

the second stiff collapses under the weight of the strike, but drew’s already glancing over his shoulder to check on you.

your knife is buried deep in the forehead of the first empty, and you wrench it free with a sharp tug. you pause only long enough to glance back at drew, your chest heaving.

“you good?” he asks, but his eyes are already scanning the room, taking in the stiffs on the ground. he whistles sharply, catching dog’s attention, and waves him forward. “let’s go,” he says.

you fall into step behind him without question as he leads you out of the building. your pulse is still pounding in your ears, but you don’t look back. there’s no point.

as you head back to the car, drew moves ahead and opens the backseat door for dog, who hops in with a quick wag of his tail. you circle to the driver’s side, sliding into the seat without a word, and the moment you pull the door shut, drew’s voice cuts through the tense silence.

“how’s your leg?” he asks.

you grit your teeth and glance at him briefly. “‘s fine. doesn’t hurt anymore,” you reply curtly, your tone leaving no room for argument.

drew hesitates, narrowing his eyes slightly as if trying to gauge the truth of your answer, but you don’t give him time to press further. he sighs, shuts the back door, and makes his way around the car.

as he does, you swipe a fingertip across your face, pulling away a streak of drying blood. it’s dark against your skin, and your gaze drops to your leg. shifting your foot slightly, you look at the spot he’s so concerned about. the fabric of your pants clings awkwardly to the wound underneath, stiff with dried blood, but you force your focus forward as drew opens the passenger door and climbs in.

before he can even settle in his seat, you ask, “where’d you learn medical care, anyway?”

he pauses, then grins, leaning back and shutting the door with an exaggerated sigh. “you mean wrapping a booboo so it doesn’t get infected?” he quips, his tone light and teasing.

your jaw clenches, and you sigh sharply through your nose, staring straight ahead as you start the car. the engine hums to life, and for a moment, the tension hangs heavy between you.

drew glances at you out of the corner of his eye, then leans his head back with a chuckle. “jean,” he says after a beat. “she was part of this group i met a while ago. taught me a lot about survival stuff. said medical care was essential in a world like this.”

you flick your eyes toward him briefly, your grip tightening on the steering wheel. “why’s that?”

“‘cause if you don’t have someone who knows the difference between a heatstroke and dehydration,” he says, mimicking jean’s sharp tone, “you’re as good as dead.”

the car falls quiet for a moment after that. your jaw relaxes slightly, but you don’t say anything, just keep your eyes fixed on the road ahead. drew shifts in his seat, and out of the corner of your eye, you catch the faintest trace of a satisfied grin.

“thanks,” you murmur, so soft you’re not even sure he catches it.

drew stiffens in his seat, his hand stilling on the hem of his jacket. he doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. when you glance over, he’s squinting at you like he’s trying to figure out if he’s hearing things right.

you bite back a smirk and shake your head, eyes back on the road. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?” his tone is teasing, but there’s a genuine curiosity underneath it.

you finally let the smirk slip, a small, fleeting smile that you know he catches. “like you’re confused.”

“i am confused,” he says, his voice light but his stare lingering.

you exhale a laugh and shake your head again. “look, now that you’re in on this whole clarenora thing, we’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

he raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat with an exaggerated sigh. “like what?”

you glance at him briefly, your smile faint but persistent. “like solving a riddle. ‘strike c-4 in the heart of daisy.’”

drew furrows his brow, repeating the phrase under his breath. then he turns back to you, his expression all mock incredulity. “so you’re dragging me into this, and now i have to just solve riddles with you?”

you shrug, the smile growing wider as you press the accelerator. “what else do we have to do?”

he groans dramatically, but the faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth betrays him.

tags: @iissza @lotuslovers @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @yootvi @skyslowalking @hoelesslyt @ariiwritess @beebeerockknot @0-tatiana-0 @beabafreakbee @spiderstyles04 @jeyramarie @loves0phelia @writtenbyhollywood @cl4uus @wumblewee

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER TWELVE

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch

warnings a lot of angst this time whoops 🤭

kalena speakss 🪽! so there’s like four chapters left guys woah. i’m sorry for this one and the next one because it’s lowkey just angst but you’ll live 😆

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California

“You did what?”

“Azz—”

“No you dumbass, you did what?” Nika cuts in, her voice echoing through my phone speaker as she repeats Azzi’s question.

I had just landed from our latest road trip, mindlessly trying to unpack and clean up around the apartment. Maraye was coming over and I wanted to have everything looking good by the time she showed up.

I’ve kept our conversations brief over the last couple days. Every time I hear her voice it just triggers my throat to close up and my mouth to get all dry.

But I can’t avoid her anymore. Whether I tell her about Nyla or not, she’s bound to find out. So I’m left with no other choice to tell her.

“You really want me to say it again?” I ask them, turning down the volume on my phone. Each time one of them yells it feels like my ear drum is seconds away from being ruptured.

“You had sex with Nyla? Why the hell would you do that?” Azzi yells again, confirming the fact that she heard me the first time.

Azzi is filled in on the lore more than anyone. So I know she’s irritated, she almost gave me a concussion when I told her about hooking up with her before the championship. I know if we were in the same room now she might actually render my abilities to play.

“I already told you it was an accident.”

“Oh, you accidentally fell into some pussy? Good luck explaining that to Maraye.” Nika laughs at me. I just know if I could see her face she’d be red from laughter.

“You didn’t tell her yet? Oh my—”

Azzi obvious exasperation is cut off when I hear my front door knock. My heart starts beating rapidly in my chest. I swallow the lump in my throat and reach for my phone.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s at the door so we can talk later.” I breathe, not even waiting for a response before hanging up on the group call.

My feet drag against the floor on the way to the door.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve been nervous for a girl to come over to my place. Even when she was here last week, it felt natural. Like she was supposed to be here anyway.

But now my palms are all sweaty and slipping against the silver doorknob.

I think I might stop breathing the second I see her. Raye’s always been perfect, she could be wearing a garbage bag and I’d still think that’s true. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her in person completely barefaced, not even a little blush on her cheeks or mascara on her lashes.

Just her. No enhancers, and looking as beautiful as I’ve ever seen her.

Raye wears that one jacket that every girl in LA seems to own, the Lululemon one. I didn’t get it at first but now I totally get the hype, the navy fabric clings to her arms and waist and everything in between, making her body look otherworldly. The matching shorts, however, are too damn short. I might not be able to control myself.

“So, can I come in?” Her nose scrunches as she asks almost like she’s shy but also teasing me over my gawking.

I don’t even waste any time tugging her arm and pulling her body into mine for me to hold.

I can’t help but grin to myself at how fast she returns the gesture, her arms wrapped around my neck and mine pressed to her lower back. Raye kicks the door shut behind her, humming softly.

It feels light, the hug. Almost like thousands of pounds of weight were lifted off of both of us and now we’re just floating together.

“Someone missed me, huh.”

I let out a breathless laugh, resting my head on top of hers. She smells incredible. “So fuckin’ bad, Raye.”

Raye is pulling back from me slowly, limb by limb detaching from me with a little fight as if they were stuck.

My lip travels between my teeth, looking over her whole outfit once again. Navy looks so good on her, and I start thinking that I might have to buy her more colors of this exact set because of what it’s doing to me.

“This lil set is cute.” I compliment, tugging at the spandex material on her mid thigh.

“Yeah?” Raye asks, looking over her own body. “I was supposed to go to the gym and then you called.”

The statement brings an embarrassing smile to my face. The fact that she dropped what she was doing, changed her plans to come and see me.

I’m embarrassingly whipped over her.

“We can do sum exercise here. No worries.” I smirk. She’s quick to drop a hand from my shoulder to mush my face off to the side.

“Shut up.” Raye giggles, “you wanna get some food?”

I lick my lips as slyly as I can, which really is a lot harder than I thought. There’s something, something that makes my mind run a thousand miles a minute. Her eyes, which I swear I’ve been obsessed with since we first met. Her skin, it’s glowing, looking like glitter that covers her skin. The smell of whatever curl cream she used lingers in my nose.

“Well I needa shower first, and then I wanted to talk.” I explain. My hands trail down to the backs of her thighs, just under the curve of her ass. She lets me, not even fighting me off or telling me that all of this is wrong. It’s the most intimate I’ve ever been with her that hasn’t led to kissing her.

Which makes me want to do it even more.

“About?”

"You." I say gently pushing her back against my front door and Raye raises her eyebrows. "And me." I add on.

Her tongue slightly slips from her lips, poking at the corner in the way it does when she’s concentrating or listening or thinking. She holds the back of my neck with one hand, her acrylics grazing the hair at my nape. I shudder, finger nails subconsciously digging into her skin.

“Okay.”

—

I’m not sure what I thought Paige’s room would look like. Her apartment— large and spacious, floor to ceiling windows, lights that set the mood so well that i’m sure every girl she’s had in here was throwing themselves at her— fits her completely. But her bedroom, is almost bare.

Cream white walls and a bed in the center. Oddly enough, there’s no purple decorating it like I assumed. Her duvet is a tan color, pillows that match, and a white throw blanket that is a nice addition to it.

The mattress nearly sucks me in when I lay back on her bed. Her phone in my hand as I order us some Chinese as per her request.

I can’t help but let my eyes wander. The room is clean. So clean, not a single book or pencil or sock out of place.

A bible sits on her beside table, along with a journal and some pens.

Then the more I look around the more the room becomes Paige. The bible is her, the picture on her full length mirror of her and her siblings, the framed piece of nylon she cut down from the net in April, the affirmations on sticky notes above her dresser. It’s all Paige. Everything that I know makes her the annoyingly smart, beautiful, and sweet blonde that I know her to be.

And she gets to be mine. As soon as I tell her that Julian isn’t my boyfriend anymore, things get to be the way they should be. I get to feel good around her rather than guilty.

Even if I do. If I do feel guilty for enjoying myself around her, I’d live with it. Because it’s Paige, and no matter what she always finds a way to get my mind off of everything.

My ears perk up the second I hear the shower turn off and I swing my feet off the side of the bed, almost in excitement of seeing her face again.

Her phone buzzes avidly on the blanket, just slightly muffled but I still hear it. I reach for it immediately, thinking that It’s our DoorDasher confirming our order. I type in the password she told me, clicking on the message notification.

lmk when you get bored of that LA girl again

i’ll be right here like i always am 😂

When you’re like me, and have been in your fair share of shitty relationships, you sort of become numb to it all. The lying, the hurt, the yelling.

I deal with it through music. Spending hours in the studio or in my room writing. It works. It helps me remember that the Earth will keep spinning.

But for a second, it does feel like the world has stopped. Like the planet, that spins a thousand miles an hour, has come to a complete halt and everything is just crashing around on me.

I have to stop looking, protect what’s left of that goodness in my heart and not keep fucking reading. But my thumb moves anyway. I read this girl’s text to Paige from last Sunday. The day after I stood in her arms and told her I’d make a decision. The night after she told me she’d wait for it.

A texts that reads: “had fun ;)”

That fucking wink. It makes me seethe. I swear it’s meant for me, just to rub it all in my face. My heart thumps so loud, and I feel like I’m underwater just drowning.

Within seconds I’m scrolling through what seems like years of texts messages, years of pictures and intimate texts that make me nauseous.

This has to be what karma feels like. I did it to Julian, right? I kissed and touched on someone else while making a promise to him. And now it’s all getting thrown back at me.

Paige took everything I gave to her, and went and gave it to someone else.

Her bathroom door glides open, a cast of steam coming into the room and she follows. “Are you sure y’on’t want anything more comfy to wear? Y’look sexy, but I can—”

Paige stops when she sees I’m not looking at her but rather that my eyes are trained to her phone.

“Ma, you aight?”

“Let me know when you get bored of that LA girl again, I’ll be right here like I always am. Paige, do you take me for a joke?” I ask her, rereading the text out loud to her before finally looking up.

I can’t let her see my tears, the ones that build and poole at my waterline, but Goddamnit they sting. Everything does. My throat feels small, the lump in my throat huge in contrast. And I want to cry. Like all this, all the confusion and the trust and the happiness she made me feel was all for nothing.

I see all the color drain from her face in an instant. Her shoulders dropping.

Paige only has on a sports bra and some sweatpants, the white towel around her neck picks up all the water that drips from that perfect blonde hair, and I’m so mad at myself for thinking about how irresistible she looks.

It’s entirely too reminiscent of the first time we met, when she was all flushed as sweaty and standing there looking like everything I’ve ever wanted.

Now I look at her and just feel like a boulder is crushing my chest.

“Raye.” She starts, stalking over to me and I stand up, feeling like that’s the best thing I can do to stop her from touching me. “Baby, just listen.”

“Me? Listen? To what. Listen to you lie to me about how you just want me? Because you obviously don’t.” I shake my head at her. “It took you 24 hours, Paige. 24 hours and you were fucking some other girl.”

“I—” She starts, sighing and tossing the towel in her hand on the bed. “I thought you chose him and I got drunk.” She babbles. Each step she takes towards me sets me off just a little more, and I feel suffocated.

“I didn’t! God!”

“What?”

“I didn’t fucking choose him, Paige. We broke up, I ended it. But instead of communicating with me when I called you, you went all silent on me.”

My voice cracks as I feel my composure slipping. It’s unbelievable, the entirety of it all.

“But now it all makes sense. You were with her.” I laugh, except it’s not funny. I think it’s the only thing I can do to stop me from lashing out at her, screaming and crying and fighting her in a way that makes me look like the bad guy.

Paige’s eyes flicker. And I know her. The confident and slightly cocky blonde girl that would double down on anything. She’s stubborn, more than me, so when I see it; the slight hint of guilt in those crystalline blue eyes, I know she’s not going to say anything I want her to.

“Wait a minute, you don’t get to be mad at me over this.” She shoots. The words hit my heart violently, sharp, like a knife. “You were with him. The whole time, who I was with is not something you get to be mad over.”

“You knew, Paige! You knew I was with Julian. And I fuckin’ told you over and over that this had to stop. Don’t turn it back on me when it’s what you wanted.” I defend, my voice cracking under her gaze.

She’s nearly unrecognizable. This isn’t Paige. Or at least the Paige I knew and fell for, because I thought she would never do something like this to me, yet she did.

Paige takes a step back from me, running her fingers through her wet hair.

“You don’t have the right to tell me what I can and can’t be mad about. I trusted you.”

“Julian trusted you.” She says, bitter and harsh. “But that didn’t stop you from kissin’ me and tellin’ me you have feelings for me, right?”

“That’s not the same—”

“It’s exactly the same, Maraye!” She yells. “But I’m tellin’ you the truth. I’m tellin’ you straight what happened, and you ain’t even do that for him.”

Maybe it’s the way she says it all like it certain. Like she knows me so well that she assumed I didn’t tell Julian anything. Or even the way her voice is so animalistic, full of emotion that I’ve never heard from her. But I lose it. All that is left of my composure, if you could even call it that, goes down the drain and I’m breaking down.

The tears in my eyes finally slip, making my lashes stick together. They’re hot, burning my cheeks.

I hate that I’m letting her see me cry, hate that she gets to see me this emotional. She doesn’t deserve to see me cry. Paige doesn’t deserve to know that she hurt me this bad.

At the same time, I want her to see it. To understand how fucking stupid her actions were. That what she did hurt me to my core, because I don’t even cry in front of people like this. But I am for her. I’m crying, and the tears don’t fucking stop falling.

“You think you know me! You don’t know me, Paige.” My eyes narrow and my arms fall to my sides. “I told him everything. I told him that you made me feel different, so much better than he ever could. A-and I told him I was sorry. I fuckin’ apologized for having feelings for you. I owned up to it, and I messed up so many times but you, God, Paige, you made it all worth it.”

When I look at Paige she isn’t even looking at my eyes. She always does, but now she looks at the ceiling, frustratingly running her hand over her chin.

“And you didn’t. You didn’t tell me the truth, I found out myself like an idiot.” I scream until my voice is raw. Her phone in my hand feels like hot coal, burning my hand and then burning a hole in her sheets when I throw it there. “Fell for you like an idiot.” I murmur under my breath.

“Hol’ on, Angel. C’mon.” Paige says. It’s soft, the quietest her voice has been all night. Of course Paige hears me. She steps to me again, reaching for my hand that I pull back with haste.

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“I made a mistake. A huge fucking mistake, but that doesn’t mean we can’t work this shit out.” Paige reaches for me again, I throw my hands away from her, hitting my hand on her bedside table and breaking a nail in the process.

“Fuck.” I groan, shaking my hand off and turning away from her. “Move!” I yell, stepping to the side so she isn’t that damn close to me.

“Raye—”

“I don’t trust you.” I breathe, shrugging my shoulders at her and trying to wipe the tears that stain my cheeks. “It’s not about working this out. You broke my trust and y’can’t even apologize for it.”

“Jus’ listen. Please.” I hear her voice crack, that guilt I could pick up on when she first came out of the bathroom so evident in the way she looks at me.

Paige’s blue eyes are rimmed with red, I nearly scoff. She doesn’t get to cry. She did this, she went to her, confided in her instead of talking to me. I shake my head in an attempt to wrap my head around all of this.

“I’m sorry.” And I thought that hearing it would make it all better but my chest just burns. I’m honestly running out of patience because this isn’t working. I’ve made up my mind, she’s done something so fucking unforgivable and it’s sad. I never would’ve imagined it from Paige.

“Really, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I can’t do this.” I blurt like word vomit. “I just can’t. Ion even wanna look at you right now, Paige.”

“Maraye.”

“I’m gonna go.” I say under my breath, nodding as if that’s what I’ve decided to do. I reach for my phone on the dresser, trying to ignore the pulsing feeling in my broken fingernail. The room suddenly feels so small, suffocating. Filled with hot air and lingering insults.

Paige looks at me incredulously. Almost shocked that I was willing to leave it at this, that I didn’t want to hear her out. “I-that’s it? We’re not gonna talk? You just gonna leave like none of this shit matters.” Her voice is low, throat almost scratched raw.

“I don’t know what to say to you that’s not gonna make this worse.” I explain.

“I can fix it, Raye. Please.”

It’s so hard. Hard to not fall victim to everything that she is and give her what she wants.

Believe it or not, I want to, I want to hear her out and have her tell me just how much she regrets it all.

But every time I look at her, I keep thinking about that girl. That girl who had Paige first, seemingly long before I did. Who had her hands in Paige’s hair the same way I do when she’s laying on my couch with her head on my shoulder.

That girl who got to feel Paige’s lips. Soft and plump with that enticing color of pink. The same lips that told me she felt something for me, told me that she’d give me time. The lips that made me feel like I was the only person in the world to her.

Don’t even start on the image of the two of them— a girl who’s probably prettier than I am or funnier or impossibly more into her than I am, and my perfect blue eyed Paige— being together in a way that we haven’t. Kissing and touching and moaning together.

Being together.

It’s nauseating.

So I just turn around, dragging myself to her hallway and to her front door. I can hear her soft footsteps following after me fast. I sniffle as I slip my shoes on, hoping that if I leave just fast enough I can hang on to the words she said to me before she slept with someone else. The words that let me know that it was just us.

Maybe those are enough to get me to forgive her, eventually.

But right now. I can’t.

So I leave. The door slamming shut behind me, and more tears falling before I even get a chance to stop them.

[bring-forth-his-sac]

negan x reader mirror on the ceiling👀😏🙏

thank you so much for the request!! <3

tags: !NSFW!, mirror sex, swearing, no foreplay straight to sex, pet names, dirty talk, mentions of potential cucking? mentions of sex tapes,

word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Saviors Era Negan x f!reader

You’re laughing when Negan walks in.

You can’t help it, especially when there’s a gigantic mirror that’s been hoisted up and basically strapped to the ceiling. 

By now, you know the drill whenever you get ordered up to Negan’s room. After months of teasing each other, the dam broke a few weeks back and ever since then, you’ve been going at it like animals, unable to keep your hands off each other. 

Officially speaking, you’re not one of the wives. There’s no title or open declaration to whatever is going on between you both. No one should know about you two, though with Negan’s big mouth, it’s hard to tell if your secrecy is holding up or if everyone is too scared to say they know what’s going on.

As far as you're concerned, Negan has kept things under wraps, coming up with excuses to justify why he needs to talk to you in private. He does this all while avoiding the real reason— he’s finally fed up with you giving him bedroom eyes all day.

Turning to look at him, you see Negan’s eyes flicker up from your ass to meet your gaze. You smirk, pointing up at your reflection “Really? How did you even get that up there?”.

Negan chuckles, strolling over to place Lucille on his armchair “I didn’t put it up there, darlin”. 

Your lips press together into a thin line as you watch him. He’s only been here for about twenty seconds and you can already tell he’s more teasing than usual. Whether that’ll make things more fun or annoying, you’re unsure.

“No shit, Sherlock” you scoff, planting your hands on your hips “but what’s the point of it?”.

He doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, he lowers his head, watching you through his lashes with a steady, knowing gaze. Negan knows the answer and he’s well aware that you know too. You just want to hear him say it.

“Negan,” you say as a warning when he remains silent “y’know if you just ordered me up here to be a dick, I’ll leave again”.

Rolling his eyes dramatically, he comes closer. “C’mon, you know I got it so I can watch your ass bounce when you’re riding me” Negan grins, unzipping his leather jacket.

”Oh so the view isn’t good enough when I’m doing all the work on your dick?” You reply, crossing your arms defensively.

This is how you and Negan communicate best, playfully bickering back and forth like an old married couple… which is ironic when you’re the only one he’s fucking that he’s not married to.

“It’s a terrific view, baby, but what can I say? I miss that fine ass of yours” pulling you flush against his chest, Negan’s hands glide down to squeeze your backside possessively. 

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to maintain a glare but it's clear your faux annoyance is starting to wane.

“But that’s not all I miss,” Negan continues “it’s been a whole damn week without my dick being in your sweet…” 

His lips find your neck, a lingering kiss making its home there. 

“Tight…” another kiss, edging up by your jawline this time. His hands still firmly grip your ass, pressing his growing erection against you.

“Warm…” Negan gives you a peck on your cheek, right by your mouth “pussy”. 

Then, with a confident grin, he closes the distance, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. As soon as your lips meet, any semblance of resistance crumbles. Clothes become inconvenient obstacles, hindering the reunion of your bare skin.

Hands fumble with belts and zippers, shirts are yanked over heads and before you know it, you’re naked and sliding onto his lap.

Negan sits at the top of his bed, pillows pushed up by the headboard as his hands trail down your naked form. He traces the curves of your waist and the slope of your hips before dipping between your thighs to lightly tease your core.

You look up at the ceiling to take in the large mirror that now dominates the space above you. Your own skeptical expression meets your gaze. It’s not an angle you’re used to but you can definitely see a lot.

Negan joins you, letting his head fall back on the pillows. Bringing his hands up, you both watch as Negan’s hands go around the curve of your ass and up your back, losing sight as your hair covers them.

“Just how I imagined” he muses, his grip coming back down to lightly hold your hips. You look down at him and Negan meets your gaze with a smirk.

Taking a deep breath, you lift yourself up. “You haven’t tried this out with one of the wives yet?” you refer to the mirror while teasingly lowering yourself just enough for Negan to feel your pussy.

The look he gives you is almost quizzical as he tries to simultaneously suppress a moan. “Nah, wanted to break it in with someone who’d actually appreciate the effort” he grunts as he feels you.

Slowly, you begin to sink down onto him, your slick folds parting around his thick shaft. You gasp softly at the stretch, your inner walls clenching and fluttering around his length.

Inch by inch, you envelop him. Negan’s head falls back with a low groan but luckily, he can still see. When your ass meets his thighs, with his manhood fully inside of you, Negan can’t help but let out a string of praise and admiration. 

"Fuck, doll, you drive me wild,” he praises “a fuckin’ natural if I’ve ever seen one, damn it’s a talent how much your pretty face turns me on” 

Slowly, you move. There’s no need to rush, especially if the reasoning behind this is to truly savor the mirror’s view. Lifting your hips, you rise until only the tip of Negan remains inside of you before sinking back down. 

You follow that rhythm, gradually increasing your pace but never bouncing up and down on him. You want him to relish in each movement as you ride him. 

In the mirror, Negan watches as the curve of your ass cheeks rise and fall in a mesmerizing rhythm. The reflection gives a different light to your body, highlighting the smooth expanse of skin and the hypnotizing plush of your ass.

Just when Negan thought he’d seen all of you, this blows him away all over again.

As if Negan doesn’t feel cocky enough, the mere sight of you riding him makes him even more emboldened. Bringing eyes veiled with lust back to you, he reaches around to grasp your ass, guiding your movements.

“That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, kneading and squeezing “you’ll be the death of me but hell, at least I’ll enjoy every fuckin’ second”.

With quick and sudden movements, Negan flips you onto your back. You land with an “oof!” as Negan slips out of you. He quickly settles between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifts them up and out to the sides.

Your eyes go up to the mirror and you see yourself. The flush on your cheeks, the parted lips and the way your back arches towards yourself as Negan fills you makes you wonder if Negan actually had a good idea including this mirror. 

Negan leans in close, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "You like looking, doll? You're soaking my sheets, y’know that?" he punctuates his words with a deep thrust “Must really like this mirror idea now, huh?”.

Your reflection stares back at you, eyes wide and slightly unfocused as you near your climax.

His dirty talk borders on taunting as he fucks into you, each word dripping with a certain arrogance only Negan can make sexy. “It’s like a slip and slide down here!” he chuckles “Aw baby, loving every second of seeing yourself get fucked, is that it?”.

Negan’s filthy words push you over the edge and you watch as your body tenses. Negan fucks you through it, not wanting to slow down even though he can feel his own release so close. 

“Damn, you’re easy,” he teases but he has no time to be smug. Hurriedly pulling out from your warmth, Negan only gives himself a few strokes before erupting onto your stomach. Your body twitches from your high as his cum splatters on to your skin, streaks of Negan coating you.

Negan flops down beside you when he finishes, both of you trying to catch your breath. The mirror shows two dishevelled people – sweat glistening on their skin, hair mussed, and your stomach marked with Negan’s release. 

“You look real pretty when you’re fucked senseless” his voice is a low gravelly tone that almost makes you sleepy. And the softness of his bed practically begs you to stay and take a nap with him by your side.

Yet Negan always has a way of keeping you on your feet, not giving you any time to let the sleepiness fester. “I think next time, we should make a sex tape,” he announces.

You wait for him to laugh but when he doesn’t, you grumble “Do it with one of your wives”.

“Noooooo” he whines, moving on to his side so he can face you properly “I wanna do it with you, so I can have that pretty face on tape and watch it over and over again”.

Negan smirks at the mere thought of it “Hell, I might even show it to the wives, might help them figure out how to get the job done if you know what I–”.

Grabbing a pillow from behind your head, you hit him with it.

“You talk too much,” you snark, biting your lip to stop a giggle from escaping “and no, I’m not making an educational sex tape for you to show your wives”.

Negan narrows his eyes when the pillow falls from his face, scooching closer before planting a kiss on your shoulder. “Think about it?” he coaxes “If you don’t want to record it, that’s fine, baby… the wives can just watch the next time you’re here”.

In response, you hit him with the pillow. Again.

gif made from scenepack provided by harleys.scenes on insta <3

[faelyn42]

Emma sat at the table, hands wrapped around a lightly steaming mug, and stared at the opposite wall. Her lips were pulled into a small frown, and she chewed thoughtfully at the inside of her cheek. Beside her, Henry sipped his hot chocolate while he did something on his phone. Then a sudden shape interrupted her view and Emma blinked reflexively, sitting up as her mother slid into the seat opposite her.

"Hey," Snow said softly. "Don't worry, we'll figure this out. We always do."

It took Emma a moment to realize she was talking about about curse, and shook her head. "No, it's not that. Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About what?" Snow prodded.

Emma hesitated, but it wasnt like there was anybody better to talk to. "Regina just, said something the other day. Guess it's still on my mind."

"Oh." Snow's eyes widened slightly, and her lips pressed thinly together. "Well... I mean, everyone has bad days, and I think a part of her-"

"No," Emma dismissed with a wave of her hand and a smile. "No, she didn't insult me. Actually, if anything, it was a compliment."

Beside her, Henry's eyes flicked up from his phone in silent interest. Snow seemed intrigued as well, and a little surprised. "Oh! Well that's nice of her. But, why the face?"

"Well it's just-" Emma paused, cheeks warming. She leaned forward, and spoke quietly, "She called me cute. I think."

Snow's eyebrows shot up into her hairline, and her lips silently echoed the word cute. Then she frowned. "You think?"

"Well," Emma elaborated, her blush growing for no explainable reason. "First she called me a puppy." Henry choked on his hot chocolate, but Emma pushed on, "So then I said, 'Puppies are cute', and she was all 'My point stands'. So, it was a little unclear."

It was Snow's turn to stare, an uncertain frown on her face. Eventually, after a few seconds of silence, she asked, "Did you... like it when she called you cute?"

Emma shrugged, cheeks fully burning now. "I mean, I'd have preferred other adjectives. Badass, awesome, hot-" Henry choked again, and this time Emma gave him a concerned look. "You okay kid?"

He waved her off. "Fine," he rasped. "I think I have the hiccups."

"Well lay off the cocoa until they pass," Emma recommended. He gave her a thumbs up, and she shifted her attention back to her mom.

She was looking at her now with a thoughtful expression. "Huh."

Emma shifted, feeling like she was under scrutiny. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing." To Henry, as if Emma weren't even there, she said, "You were right, I can see it."

Emma twisted to look between her mother and her son. "See what?"

"Nothing," Henry said a little to quickly, and sipped his hot chocolate with an innocent expression.

Emma eyed him suspiciously. "Uh-huh." Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to read the notification. "Saved by the bell," she announced. "It's Regina, I gotta go."

"Have fun," Snow said brightly as Emma grabbed her jacket and stood to leave.

The moment she was gone, Henry leaned over the table and asked in a conspiratorial whisper, "Does this mean you're in on Operation Whiptail?"

Snow leaned in to match him. "It means I'm not gonna rat you out for trying to parent trap your moms. Drink your cocoa."

"So... What are we looking for?" Emma wondered, as she looked around at all the clutter. Regina's vault was always overflowing with strange and esoteric artifacts, a sharp contrast to her perfectly tidy house.

"I am looking for a spell. You just followed me in here." Regina stood facing a wall, head bowed as she scanned the pages of a dusty tome.

"Right." Emma chewed at her cheek, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. "So... what kind of spell are we looking for?"

"I don't know yet, I just started looking. And it will take even longer if you keep interrupting me."

"Sorry," Emma muttered under her breath. In the name of not distracting Regina from her Very Important Work, she turned her attention to the objects scattered around her. Lots of books and scrolls, mostly, in languages she couldn't understand. She gave a glance at Regina, whose nose was still buried in her book, and unrolled one of the scrolls. Looked like Arabic, or something. It was wrapped around a wax cylinder though, that had some pretty cool carvings. Emma reached out to pick it up and get a closer look.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Emma looked up, startled, to find Regina twisting around to stare pointedly at her. Emma shrugged, nonchalant, and pulled her hand back. "What," she joked, "Is it going to turn me into a toad?"

"No, it will just kill you," Regina replied, turning back to her book. Slowly flipping the page she added, "I prefer to deal with my enemies directly."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Emma muttered. She rolled the scroll back up, careful not to touch the wax cylinder, and her eye caught on a glint of light. A tiny silver bell, with a handle of black wood. Pursing her lips, she reached out.

"Emma!" Regina scolded, and rushed over to snatch her wrist away from the bell. "You're like a puppy," she huffed, "Getting into everything she sees."

"Hey," Emma defended, but faltered. She, didn't really have a good argument. "Puppies are cute," she finished lamely.

Regina paused, and looked her up and down. "Yes, well. My point stands." She stepped away, back to her spellbook—leaving Emma to stare after her, gaping. "I think I've found the spell we need," she continued, oblivious to Emma blue-screening behind her. "The ingredients will be difficult to find though. Gold will have some, but whatever he wants in return probably won't be pleasant."

"Did you just call me cute?" Emma asked, slowly recovering.

"Do you want to waste time talking?" Regina asked, moving quickly to the exit with her spellbook tucked primly under her arm. "Or do you want to break this curse?"

[bzhitstruth]

Coincidental circumstances-3

Part 2

Let's continue with the remarkable circumstances. The Part 1 is here.

Everything is still fake and CPN.

7. On November 20 and 21, the clip and song version of "Drifting" were released. There are several interesting moments in the clip props. For example, David Roberts' book, "The Limits of the Known", is about the desire and motivation of people to embark on dangerous and extreme adventures in order to explore new landscapes. The theme of adventure is in the clip too, but the book is about real exploring of territories. Well, you understand.

8. There are also two books about Chanel. One of them is in the clip and photos, and the other one, as it turns out, is in the playroom in the photo that GG posted on his birthday. These are the books "The Little Black Jacket" and "Collections and creations". Who do these books associate with? No comments needed. I just think that the books in the props could have been absolutely any. But these were the ones. Two books in different sets of props.

9. Among the props of “Drifting”, a huge box with the inscription in English “Milk” stands out, there is also a large mug with the same inscription. It turns out that there is a movie called "Milk" starring Sean Penn, for which Sean Penn even received an Oscar for Best Actor. This is a film about gay politician Harvey Milk, who fought for gay rights at a time when it was still illegal (the action takes place in the 1970s). Sean Penn is one of DD's favorite actors, he talked about it in an interview last year, I think he watched a lot of his movies. Even the color of the fonts on the movie poster and the inscriptions on the box are similar. It would be interesting to know the meaning of this box in the video. A symbol of home comfort, a glass of milk at night?

10. On November 26, the third and final part of GG's album and Outro (completion) was released. On the same day, the covers, photos and videos of MarieClair magazine with DD were released. And as always, the time of publications was chosen so as not to conflict with each other on Weibo.

In some of the photos from the magazine, DD is wearing pants from Acne Studios. This is one of the brands that they both wear from time to time. On the same day, GG is flying from Beijing to Chongqing, and on this very day, he decided to fly in pants from the same brand. Even the silhouette of the pants is similar.

By the way, about the recent coincidence of this brand and style of pants:

11. On the poster with the lyrics of GG's song "Good Night" there are 8 verses, and each of them in pinyin begins with either Y or B.

12. In the Outro, at exactly 00:38, GG says "Good night." The background sounds are nature sounds and night rustles. And this intonation, this manner reminded me of someone else.

13. On November 28 at 23:23 (the date and time of the post coincided very well) XZS posted the final video, where GG wishes everyone a good night, the album release is complete. For some reason, GG says “good night” against the background of a dark screen with the inscription, after which GG appears in the frame again for another second and waves his hand.

I wonder why GG disappeared from the frame during the wish? Was this "good night" really meant for the viewers? It's unlikely that anyone will ever explain it to us.

💚❤️.

[avonne-writes]

I’m glad Gale was with Bucky when Bucky donated the sheepskin jacket and comforted him the rest of the day. :) How was Bucky when Bucky was donating the jacket and after that happened? I sort of imagine maybe he was a little jittery and then got hesitant at the last second when the volunteer was going to take the jacket from him, the volunteer said he didn’t have to donate it if it was important to him, then Bucky told him to take the jacket. And then he was still a little jittery when he was at home afterwards but seemed to feel fine, even though he wasn’t actually fine (he just didn’t consciously feel the negative emotions yet). But at some point during the day, Gale was somewhere else in the home, and then he heard Bucky crying. Gale then went to Bucky and comforted him as he was processing through the pain, coming to accept the situation, and letting go of his dad. And Gale told Bucky that he was proud of Bucky and said other comforting things. That’s sort of how I imagine it happened. What do you think? How would you say it happened?

Re: this post

Aw, thank you for sharing these headcanons 🩷 This is what I imagine:

When Bucky comes home from visiting his bio father, he spends the night being listless and clinging to Gale. Gale cuddles and caresses him and lets the silence linger. When Bucky's ready, he tells Gale he wants to donate the jacket.

They do it a week later. Bucky wants to do it immediately but Gale convinces him to wait, not make an impulse decision.

On the day, Bucky spends some time at home just stroking the jacket, looking it over, and committing it to memory. It’s not just a jacket but a symbol to him, and there's an entire grief process associated with giving it up. Gale gives him privacy and doesn’t interrupt or rush him.

When Bucky makes up his mind, he gets excessively cheerful and energetic. Keeps going on about getting some food with Gale after and other nice plans. This is not actual joy, but how he copes with the situation.

At the charity donation point, he’s not hesitant at all, just gives over the jacket, grabs Gale's hand and gets the hell out of there. He continues to act overly cheerful until they get home.

Back at their apartment, his facade falls away completely. The jitters can’t be channeled into cheerfulness anymore. I think he hides in the bedroom or bathroom and has a panic attack.

He's scared to his bones that he did a terrible thing and that bad luck is going to strike now. He feels cold and like something is seriously wrong. Like he irrevocably changed (he did).

Gale finds him like that. He sits with him and holds him, stroking his hair, kissing his forehead etc. They move to their bed, and talk a lot about Bucky's feelings of abandonment. Gale tells him several times how much he loves him and how proud he is of him. Bucky might cry a lttle, but Gale wipes his tears away.

The next morning, they stay in bed extra long. Bucky apologizes for the night before, but Gale reassures him that there's nothing to apologize for. They eat breakfast, and Bucky starts feeling lighter. He feels relieved and increasingly happy. After breakfast, he draws Gale close, kisses him, and eventually ends up taking him back to the bedroom to make love.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Obsessed (Joe Goldberg x gn reader)

Summary: Joe discovers your obsession with him

Warnings: obsessive behavior from the reader, mentioned threats/violence, stalking, breaking and entering, the reader has massive yandere vibes, the reader is a creep/pervert, interrupted masturbation session, Joe is pretty complacent to this once he finds out, implied smut at the end

A/N: the original idea for this came from this post by the amazing @samcvrpenters that I decided to expand on a little. thank you so much for giving me the permission to turn your idea into a full fic <33

Joe was perfect. He was, really. He was charming, attractive, had a good sense of humor: all of which were traits that led him to be the perfect guy. In your opinion, anyway.

You wouldn't say you were obsessed with him. That was an awfully strong word. Though you did tend to care about him more than anyone else in your life, and you thought about him every second of every day, and there was the teensy tiny shrine you had dedicated to him tucked away in your closet where no one would see-

Okay, yeah, maybe you were a little obsessed. But who could blame you, really? Guys in general sucked at best and deserved jail time at worst, and that was putting it lightly. But Joe? He was perfect.

Okay, maybe not one hundred percent perfect. He did have a few small character flaws, but they were minor things that you were able to look over pretty easily.

Such as leaving the door to his apartment unlocked sometimes when he left out. I mean, seriously, he lived in New York of all places. If anyone was going to try to rob a person, it would be there.

You forgave him, though. You were aware he probably had other things on his mind, what with having to manage a bookstore entirely by himself (you didn't count Ethan) and making sure Paco was okay.

There was also the girl he'd been talking to that had ghosted him, but that wasn't nearly as important as anything else (you threatened her with a slit throat if she didn't back off). What? You were just looking out for him. He was yours, even if he didn't realize it yet. You knew it, and that was enough for the both of you. It was one of the reasons why you were so determined to not let anybody tear you apart.

No one could love him the same way you could, you were quite certain. No one could appreciate him like you did. Which is obviously why you trailed after him wherever he went like a lost puppy, though you of course didn't make him aware that he had his very own living shadow.

You didn't want to freak him out. After all, you were well aware of what it would look like if he found out you were stalking him. (Though you hated using that word to refer to your situation. Stalking made it sound so bad, so dirty. You were simply looking out for him, is all).

Just like you were looking out for him whenever you snuck into his place. Although sneaking might not be the best word because, again, he had a tendency to leave the door unlocked.

So what if you went in there when he was gone on occasion and took a few things? It's not like he'd notice a missing shirt or pair of boxers. Or three.

Hey, at least you washed them before returning them. You hoped the smell of the laundry detergent you used would remind him of you just enough without giving away it was you that had washed his clothes.

For the most part, you were pretty clever, always making sure you knew where Joe was before heading over to his apartment to poke around at stuff and making sure to wear a hat and discreet jacket whenever you tailed after him. One way you were not clever, though, was when it came to your feelings. That was how he ended up finding you out.

He'd left early that morning just like usual for Mooney's, which gave you the chance to enter his apartment once he was gone. Technically you really didn't need to break in since you had a key (you were his best friend, after all) but it was hard to imagine that he'd be thrilled upon finding you in his apartment when he was gone, snooping around for no reason.

Everything seemed pretty ordinary, and you were just about to leave when you saw a pair of boxers laying on the floor next to the bed. His boxers.

You quickly glanced around despite no one being there and debated on whether or not you'd have the time to take them over to your place for a quick private session before bringing them back. Nah, you couldn't do that, it was far too risky, you decided even while picking them up, your hands practically trembling with excitement. God, you were such a mess when it came to him and his clothing.

Flopping down on the bed, you held the boxers up to your face and inhaled deeply. They smelled just like you'd imagined that he would. Still clutching the boxers with one hand, you moved the other down your body to the front of your pants. Maybe if you were quick, you could rub one out and be gone before anyone even realized it.

Of course it was at that same moment when Joe himself was walking back up the stairs to his apartment building, having left behind a book that needed to be restored back at his place. All he needed to do was grab it and then he could leave, no problem.

Except it was a problem, because you were already in there, about to masturbate with his underwear.

He paused just outside his apartment, noticing immediately the door was cracked. Had he left it like that? No, there's no way. He locked up before he left, he made sure of it.

A low moan was pulled from you as you rubbed and touched yourself, which just so happened to be the very first thing he heard when he walked in. "Joe..." You whimpered out his name in complete and utter bliss, your head tilted back against the pillows as you shut your eyes, though they quickly shot open again when you heard someone clearing their throat.

"What are you doing?" He asked while averting his gaze, feeling flustered and confused (and a little aroused, if we're being completely honest here). "And are those my boxers?"

This isn't what it looks like, is what you so desperately wanted to say, but you knew he'd never believe that. You needed something that could save this, so what did you do? You admitted your feelings to him.

"I love you," is what you blurted out instead, quickly pulling your hand out from your pants as you moved to hide the boxers behind your back. "I was- I just came over to check on things, and I saw you'd left some dirty clothes on the floor, and I was about to pick them up for you."

That excuse was so unbelievably stupid, you knew he'd never go for it. Luckily for you, he only seemed to catch one part of what you'd said.

"You... You love me?" He questioned in quiet disbelief, his big doe eyes gazing at you with a mixture of affection and longing. He was so pitiful looking, it was cute.

Swallowing thickly, you stood, discreetly dropping the boxers on the floor behind you and kicking them away as you spoke. "Of course I love you, Joe. You're my best friend in the entire world, and you mean everything to me."

He knew it was wrong, that he should panic, scream, kick you out and say he never wanted to see you again- but he couldn't. Because the truth was, he loved you, too.

Before you could respond, he pulled you in for a passionate and loving kiss, one that seemed to reassure you that he wasn't weirded out or offended or mad. You could feel yourself instantly melting into his touch, your hands cupping his face as your lips moved against one another in perfect harmony. If you could kiss him forever, you would.

Eventually you were forced to pull away for air, both of you panting heavily as you rested your forehead against his. "Are you the one who's been stealing all my clothes?" He asked suddenly, something that made you let out a snort of laughter in response.

"Maybe. I always washed them before returning them, though, so don't worry," you playfully replied as your arms moved to wrap around his neck.

"Well, that's good at least." He kissed you again before adding, "Care to enlighten me on just what you were doing before I came in?"

"Oh, I think you know the answer to that already," you purred in a sultry voice, a squeal of delight escaping from you when he suddenly picked you up and carried you over to the bed.

"Maybe you can show me then," he muttered in response, his voice low and seductive. Had you realized things would turn out this well, you would've admitted your love for him ages ago.

It was crazy how this all happened because of your more unsavory habits being revealed before the one person you were trying to keep them from. Him immediately accepting your love with open arms rather than feeling violated or being creeped out only proved to you one thing: that he needed you as much as you did him.

And once this had been confirmed for you in the flesh, there was no way he'd ever be left alone or let out of your sight ever again. You needed to have your eyes on him at all times, if only for your personal peace.

Besides, who could really blame you for wanting to keep him all to yourself? He was perfect, and you were obsessed after all, far more than you'd ever admit.

End notes: I really hope this was worth the wait 🫶

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | You masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @theonetruepotato87 @caplanreblogsfics @samcvrpenters @bleachxbunny

[captainlexapro]

notes from watching/rewatching all of the (current) canucks' mic'd up videos

(this was more for me/just for fun but i thought i’d share here in case anyone wants to gush about them, too)

Tyler - Game against Winnipeg 2019

patented Tyler = cool, calm, and collected. steady and subtle leadership.

Lmao chaos giraffe flopping onto the ice

not a ton of notes - mostly game play and him being a supportive teammate!

Brock - Training Camp 2020

happy smiley brock!! laughing brock!! peace and love in the world 🫶 😌

Trade ‘jokes’ — (idc if this was years ago now) STOP 😡

sweetheartedness on full display!! "i wish i could chirp you! but i'm not going to." warning everyone that he's mic'd up "in case they say something dumb"

playfully slapping teammates with his stick

teammates ribbing him - especially petey. 😊 i loveeee boesersson teasing!!😊

patented Brock = killer shots on display

brock likes to lovingly push and shove on people, particularly when he's joking around. Very cute.

Personal note- strange seeing so many faces that are now retired or on other teams. That’s how it goes / ship of theseus etc etc

JT - Training Camp 2020

skating by all his teammates saying "i'm mic'd up don't say anything dumb" good looking out 🫡

giving praise to huggy. obviously.

such a supportive coach / dad!!! always teaching and suggesting and complimenting!! with some chirping for good measure 😝

"boeser you finally have a good shot! that wasn't even a chirp - like, seriously"

Even in practice taking responsibility for mistakes: "that's my fault"

Making funny comments that get quinn to laugh 💙

Y’all i just love jt so damn much

Elias - Training Camp 2021

he's always cracking sly lil jokes and half the time nobody even notices 💀 - I NOTICE!! I would laugh, petey!!

More boesersson teasing!! "that's what i'm worried about. you playing center 😏 hehehe" *brock rolls eyes and elbows petey* AUGH my heart

peteyquinn competitiveness!! E:"i'm stronger than quinn"x2. also see Q: "i'm gonna dominate you this period" E: "you?" Q: "i'm going to track you" E:"fine" universe, i humbly ask for more of this dynamic.

holy fuck that puck coming flying at petey and brock, barely missing their faces?!?! 😨 then petey's all whatever. "i've got the reflexes of a goalie.” and cracks another joke about how it would have hit his beard but he shaved two days earlier. Silly boy. 😌

he's so casually affectionate in a very gentle way (pushing brock forward after he said he was tired) and it makes me afkjskjdsd

i really love watching him skate. he's a lovely combo of speed and power and grace and heart.

Brock - Training Camp 2021

Teammate hugs just because ☺️

cute little sing-song moments - just saying random words or teammates' names

teasing baby höglander - again, my heart!!!

just being his usual charming self. Doesn’t even have to try. HE’S SO NICE 😭

Conor - Game against Bruins 2021

about being mic'd up: "it's my worst dream! i never talk!" sir that is a bald-faced LIE

neckguard-less garly is strange to see now 😮

"i'll go loo-ooohww"

complimenting quinn (as one should)

getting fucking DECKED but popping right back up (what’s new?). Honestly never gets old seeing his nonstop grit.

complimenting his opponent when he's been outdone: "ahh good play charlie, fuck"

to brock after a goal: "bumperrrrr!" and "you're the best bumper i've ever seen. you and bergeron"

saying hello constantly. Polite little winger. "What's up Sways?" "Heads up Berg. How're we doin?" "How you doin'?"

we see a fun dipsy-doodle millsy shootout goal!

garly's the first one on the ice once they win and goes to LEAP into demmer's arms 🥹

JT - Game against Blue Jackets 2021

ONCE AGAIN, I LOVE JT SM 💗

our vocal emotional heart!

jawing with mysey 5 seconds after getting onto the ice for warmies. like we’re surprised.

gets his blades checked and is told they look fine. "i got issues then. issue you can't help me with" 😆(and he’s smiling as he says this)

commentary on petey one-timer practice shots. "yyyyup" "probably a goal" "that's not it" "that's a goal". (Me then thinking about how petey says millsy will have a good job after hockey as a coach 🥺)

"FUCK!" "FUCK ME" "LET'S FUCKING GO" "got lucky motherfucker!" "FUCKING RIGHTS, BABY!!" millsy i love you and your foul mouth please never stop 🫶

patented JT = compliments. "you're HAWWTTT"

goofy jt/brock convos. JT: "i wanted the puck from you until i got it.” See also - brock: "i'm only seven blocks behind you"

Sooo many faceoff things. (WE NEED YOU BACK ON THE DOT, MILLSY)

faceoff jawing. "is he down or no?" "yeah i'm down" "alright" *STICKS HITTING THE ICE*

checking with teammates before a faceoff: "good?"

annoyed with the refs. (calmly) "are we not calling penalties today?" and *jumps up from bench in disbelief* "am i missing this or what?"and "prison rules today"

*on the bench after blocking a shot* "ow!"

moved too early on a faceoff and immediately knew he fucked up: "ohhh baby! yup!"

"i tried to tip that with my body! tried to tip that with my fucking body! hey, that's a body tip. OH MY GOD how did that not go in the net?"

(calmly) "you got a band-aid? one band-aid?" 🤏

millsy singing the goal song!!! "HEY HEY HEY HEY"

about to do a faceoff: "fuckin' guy is owning me. i can't beat this guy!"

side note: sometimes "coaching" is so funny to me because lots of times it's just stating the obvious. "when you get a chance you gotta shoot on this powerplay." well yeah. 😐

millsy says "way to fucking go" to every single player after winning

Tyler - Game against Red Wings 2022

St. Patrick's day silly warmies jerseys: "O'MYERS"

gives a birthday shoutout to his stepmom 💚

grades his own practice shot: "C-" lmao 😆

*hears a fan say "let's go mysey"* "i like how the fans are using nicknames"

Canuckleheads

again, he has such a chill demeanor throughout the entire game process

Tyler - Training Camp 2022

more tyler being a coach moments - are we surprised?

bainsy appearance! arty appearance!

giving compliments to höglander (aughhh höggy i hope you work through your struggles and can come out the other side even better)

Brock - Game against Golden Knights 2022

describes his game day routine, which is the same every time. Ohhh nhler has a specific order of operations on game days? fork found in kitchen. I tease i tease. It’s just funny 😅

says he wears a helmet in case he ever heel picks/doesn't want to fall back and hit his head. We love a safety-conscious gorgeous man! (Also makes me re-pissed off about him getting likely concussed)

"WOOOHOOHOOO!!" after tipping in a goal at netfront (likely place for him to be). then said it was lucky because he just stuck his stick out after visually losing the puck once it was shot

apologizing to marty "i'm sorry we didn't get you a shutout" 😫🥺

Dakota - Game against Kraken 2023

also very vocal the whole time!!

starting off strong with praise for huggy

interacting with kiddos at the glass 💚

"here we go here we go here we go" + random sounds + giggles

lol he repeats EVERYTHING he says two or three times

"We're due we're due we're due. We're OVERdue"

patented Dak = "Yessir! yessir!"

Carson - Game against Predators 2023

first of all he's just very pretty and kind and i love him and hope he improves as this season goes on bc he really can be so good

*on why he's mic'd up* "i just got a lot of really, really good stuff to say"

tells fil he should get a chest tattoo and i have to agree. very on brand and i’m kind of surprised he doesn’t have one

"save what teeth you got left.” He’s a comedian, your honor.

loves his d-man bestie tyler very much 😌

very supportive!! telling everybody good job! keeps morale up!

"i'd rather huggy get an apple than my first of the year" 😆

Brock - Game against Devils 2023

"WOOOOOOO!!" for a höggy goal

"come onnn. go in the net"

i feel like he's always been looking out for höglander over the years. giving tips and helping and hyping him up.

millsy and boeser swapping compliments after a goal. I miss them. 😪

Quinn - Game against Devils 2024

i assume most of us have watched this but whateverrr

"oh lukey! oh lukey!"

genuine laughter!! "that was an unreal pass!"

doing captain things and supporting his teammates. for example - complimenting fil: "i fucking loved that. keep wheeling"

yelling "Yeahyeahyeah!!”

to garly: "i just wanted you to know i was there, right away. like i'm there. for you. that's why i'm yelling" 😆😌

hyping up luke like the proud brother he is

garly: "hey! give me a hug! i love you. congrats"

bonus: a screenshot from travis (KING) dermott's mic'd up when bo horvat was on hatty watch. millsy (kind of aggressively, tbh) had to like physically brace himself on petey??? His hand is ON petey’s neck. 💀 Idk man it was kinda bizarre kinda hilarious. Petey’s face 😲 😂 Hockey players are an interesting bunch.

in conclusion: i love this team and i want more mic'd ups 😌

[slippinmickeys]

The Unseelie Court (9/16)

Scully sat in her car with the key still in the ignition, though she’d cut the engine when she pulled into her parking spot. Anxiety sat low in her gut like a weighted ball of putty. She felt other things too, including a listlessness that was hard to overcome. 

She’d left the office at the end of the day after a long afternoon of silence with occasional bursts of Mulder asking if she was okay, if she wanted to talk. With a request for space thrown over her shoulder, she’d hustled out of the office without meeting his eye and was now sitting in the small garage of her building dreading facing the emptiness and quiet of her apartment where she’d have nothing but time and space to think. 

As she reached for the car door handle, her phone rang. 

Expecting Mulder, she looked at the display with surprise and apprehension. It was a call from Adrian County. She clicked on with a truncated, if professional greeting. 

“Agent Scully, hi. This is Deputy Avery down in Adrian County.”

“What can I do for you, Deputy?” She tipped herself out of her car and slung her bag over her shoulder, tilting the phone to her ear as she approached the elevator and pressed the call button. 

“I wanted to let you know,” Avery said. “We’re closing the Daly Carmichael case.”

“That’s surprising,” she said. There was a crackle of static as she stepped through the elevator doors. 

“With no definitive cause of death, there’s not really any evidence of a crime.”

“I know basic labs didn’t show anything, but I’m still waiting on the full toxicology blood work from Richmond.”

“I mentioned that. I also brought up some of the more…” he paused, searching for the right words. “Well, the weird shit you and I saw at the Carmichael Estate. Despite all that, the Sheriff is shutting the investigation down. I don’t think I’m the only one involved that thinks that’s the wrong call, but it isn’t mine to make. Anyway. I wanted to let you know.”

The beige of the hallway outside her apartment went gray and back to beige with the flickering of an overhead light. 

“I appreciate that, Deputy.” Any other day, she might have put up a fight. 

“And listen,” she could hear the rustle of clothing through the line as the deputy likely moved his phone to his other ear. “If you’re ever back in Adrian County…or even if you’re not…call me. I’d like to pick your brain and…I don’t know, maybe take you out some time.”

So, not all the way gay then, Scully thought vaguely, pulling out her key ring. It wasn’t the first time she’d been asked out by a local after a field investigation. 

“I’m afraid my life doesn’t seem to be conducive to relationships at present, Deputy Avery,” she said, thinking of Mulder. 

“Ah,” Avery said, and she could hear his grin through the phone line, “can’t blame a guy for trying.” 

Scully hung up and opened her door, stepped through into the empty silence. 

***

Mulder lay drowsily on the couch still dressed in his work clothes, unable to face the prospect of spending a night in sheets that still smelled like Scully without her in them. Though he had removed his jacket and tie, he didn’t have the energy to do much more than kick off his shoes when he got home. 

He was determined to respect the boundaries she’d hastily set when she left the office, though he half-hoped his phone would ring. He was still considering what to order for dinner when a wave of exhaustion swept over him. Rather than fight it, he let his eyelids meet, drifting off to sleep being a better option than sitting around worrying about Scully worrying.

Almost immediately, he found himself in the glade again—the fairy hollow from the beach—fully aware that he was dreaming. In front of him was the willow tree with the broken crown slashed into its bark, but there was someone on the other side of the tree—a presence he could feel but couldn’t see. At his feet were a small pile of coins, wild faces on front and back. 

He took a step to walk around the tree, but then so did the person on the other side. And then he caught a whiff of her scent.

“Scully?” he called out.

Another step, and this time he caught a glimpse of her before she took another step around the tree, away from him. 

“Scully, wait.” 

One more step and suddenly from his other side, she was there, directly before him. She wore not a stitch of clothing, though on her head sat a crooked tiara. Her eyes, when she raised them to meet his, were two different colors. 

He woke up with a start, a burning pain on his chest once again that he wondered vaguely about until he heard the knocking on his door. The sensation had faded by the time he had tripped over to it and fully roused to consciousness. 

Scully stood in the hallway, still in her own work clothes, looking vaguely nauseous.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes flitting briefly down to hers, ensuring himself they were both still Sargasso blue. 

“Can we talk?” she said, and he nodded, lifting his arm so she could walk under it. 

A talk. The dream had filled him with unease, but now he was downright edgy. He’d been girding his loins for this moment from the first time she’d invited him to her bed, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. It didn’t mean he was going to make it easy.

She took a few steps into the room, but didn’t attempt to sit or get comfortable, instead choosing to hover, eyeing him like she didn’t want him to get too close. Like if he got close, she couldn’t do what she was about to do. 

He’d already had an argument with her in his head about how they were grown ups and how it wasn’t like they’d tripped and fallen into each other. They’d chosen to start sleeping together, soberly, perhaps not without reservations, but without pretense. He was fully prepared to tell her that he wanted this, wanted more than this if she did, but that he’d take whatever his pathetic heart could get. 

So it was something of a surprise when she walked forward and pressed herself into him, her arms wrapping around him and holding him tight. After only a moment, his arms came around her, too. 

“Is this…are we…talking?” 

“No,” she said, her voice muffled from where she was pressed into him. “I thought I needed you to talk me out of this…feeling I have right now, but I think I just need you to hold me.”

He squeezed her more tightly and rubbed his hand over the soft material of her blouse, his fingers skimming over her piano key ribs. “I can do that.”

After a minute, she pulled back to look in his eyes. “Thank you,” she said, and shook her head like she was fighting off a sneeze. “God, this day has been…”

She stepped away from him, a restless energy radiating off of her. Finally she looked at him, really looked at him. 

“Mulder, you look like you have indigestion.” 

“This day has been weird for me too,” he said defensively, thinking of his search for information on Aeon Greene, the whole thing with Skinner’s assistant, his dream. “And honestly, I thought you were about to break up with me.” 

“I didn’t realize we were going steady.”

“You know what I mean. Stop being prickly.”

“I’m sorry,” she said graciously. “Today with Arlene was…Jesus Christ, so embarrassing. I wanted to sink through the floor the whole afternoon. But I realized tonight after a not-great dream that I’m so sick of being… I know what people say. About us. But after years of living and projecting virtuous hauteur, who actually gives a damn if they’re right? I half think we should just declare our relationship to Skinner and let him sort it out. It’s not like you’re my superior.”

“You had a dream?” he said, a tumbleweed of intrigue cartwheeling through his mind.

“I just told you I want to come out to our boss and you’re asking about my dream?”

“I am, yeah.”

“I fell asleep on the couch,” she shrugged, misunderstanding what he was asking.

“Tell me about what happened in it,” he said, remembering his own dream; the tree, the tiara. Eyes that were hers but weren’t.

“I was in the grove,” she said. “The one from the Carmichael Estate, I think. You were there too, but you were hiding from me.” A chill ran up Mulder’s spine. “When you finally showed yourself to me, you had this symbol burned into your chest, like a…like a brand,” she went on. “And your eyes. They were heterochromatic, like our victim’s. It was…unsettling.”

“If you think that was unsettling…” Mulder said, fixing her with a look. “I had the same dream.”

“What?” 

“Tonight. Just now. I had fallen asleep on the couch.”

Scully took a few more steps into his apartment. 

“There were a few minor differences, but…same dream.” Mulder rubbed his hand over his chest where he’d felt the burning sensation. 

“It’s not unusual to have dreams of a similar nature when you spend a lot of time with someone,” she started, “especially when we were just—”

She was trying rationalize the supernatural. Of course she was.

“Scully, I swear to God—”

She stopped talking and gave him a long look, and then wilted with apprehensive capitulation. 

“But fairies? Really?” She was practically whining, but he was so elated not to have to fight her, he gave an inch.

“Some kind of hibernian or Celtic-based magic at the very least.”

She slouched and shuffled over to his couch, suddenly exhausted. He was tempted to join her, maybe rub her feet, offer up a massage that could lead to something more, but he was suddenly wired. The symbol on the tree, the broken crown, intrigued him. 

He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. She looked depleted. Emotionally done in. 

“I’m going to hop on the computer for a while,” he said, reaching up and grabbing the Aztec blanket, laying it over her lap. “Why don’t you, you know, pretend not to sleep.”

“Mulder, they closed the case,” she said, slumping back against the pillows.

He straightened, his energy flagging a little. 

“They what?” 

“Adrian County. They closed the case. Deputy Avery called me this evening.” Her eyes were droopy. 

He considered this for a moment. “Well, we could open a new one. Make it federal.”

Scully looked skeptical, but didn’t put up a fight, and he smiled at her one more time then slid into his desk chair and fired up his computer. 

[everygayhere]

LOST IT

hey guys so... sorry about not posting much these days or these couple of months but i have a new story you guys might like.... as for the other on i have i've written a few pages of it. it's just not good right now so i need to fix them who know it might get posted after this chapter of the new story.

summary: Jenna and y/n meet while on set of Wednesday season two, from being strangers to friends to lovers. Taking a look into the past lives between the two of them. Y/N going through the turmoil of being in her present life and looking back on her past. will her future change or will it remain the same?

CHAPTER 1

The cold pelted against you as you stood out in the rain, chest beating, breath ragged. Slowly soaking hunched over feeling your tears run down your face. The only thought running through your brain was that she was happy, finally happy. Trying to ease your mind of the gut wrenching feeling of losing the love of your life. You stood in the open, vulnerable not paying attention to those who looked towards you or the feeling of pity stares.

Instead you focused on all the memories you two shared. All the love, the secret looks, the long night hangouts, the laughs shared, the inside jokes, the warmth of each other's bodies, the holidays spent together, being introduced to her family, birthdays, set days and just everything you experienced together. Collapsing to the ground, broken, feeling it inside and out. You lost it. Not far from the reason as to why you felt like this. You lost it. Everything that was bottled up hidden by a smiling face and happy persona. You lost it. 10 feet from people talking together, smiling a real smile, laughing with genuine happiness. YOU. LOST. IT. 

It didn’t take long for those who were already looking to stop talking and facing you fully, but still you didn’t notice. You sat there continuing to lose it in your wet shirt, buttons undone, jacket off soaked clothes, on the ground. Those thoughts of trying to reassure yourself soon changed to degrading everything you’ve done from the moment you started breathing. Why couldn’t I just be normal? What is wrong with me? I’m an idiot a dumb stupid idiot. I deserve to feel like this, nothing in my life has gone the way I wanted it to.  You couldn’t stop the spiral finally breaking free. Here you were feeling this pain that you thought was impossible. 

Standing in the cold you looked up from where you were back at the event. No one was looking back at you, no one who was there was noticing your presents. How could they, you weren’t really there, no you were 6ft under in a cemetery with your headstone covered in dried leaves and dirt. No one you shared those memories with noticed you. The only ones looking at you were the ones living in the same place you living in, the inbetween. Cursed to roam the world until they felt like leaving and if they didn’t in time they would be cursed to stay forever. You knew this, they knew this. It was ironic really that it happened to you. You just couldn’t leave her, not when she was sad, not when she needed you still. Even when she didn’t need you at one point you couldn’t leave your time was up. 

Here you were losing it having flashbacks of your past life the day you died it was coming back to you and you didn’t know what to do. You thought you had come to the relaxation you couldn’t change anything that life was life and yet here you are years later crying breaking down. Losing any relative thinking because the love of your life was getting married to someone else 10 feet away. If only five years ago from today things turned out different you would be standing there saying your vows and crying from the happiest you felt standing and watching the love of your life walk down the aisle. 

10 years ago

You had just gotten the biggest role of your life, you were finally going to make something of yourself. The feeling was amazing to be called by your manager saying you got the role. Was different after constant rejection, you had finally landed something. The best part was that it was with none other than Tim Burton himself.  You love all of his films. Since it was indeed the best call you could ever receive you decided to go out for a drive and get yourself an Ice cream. The night was so nice even though it was running and pouring down you thought this was the best drive you have ever had. 

The next day you were called for an online meeting since you didn’t live in LA or The United states in general. The meeting was so that they could cover the character you’ll be playing and the time you need to fly out to set and where you’ll be staying. So with slight nerves you got everything set up ready for your meeting. After 30 minutes you joined the meeting. 

“Ah Y/N thank you for joining the meeting on time. I hope it’s not too much of a time difference.”   The bright pixels showed Tim’s face as he spoke to you.

“Oh no not at all Tim. Thank you for the role.” you replied nervously. With a small smile.

“great , while let’s get right into huh? So let’s start with the character you’ll be playing. You’ll be a child of the afterlife really so that goes for death, god, the devil all in one. The concept is that you were crafted to create a stable life for those in the mortal world. You’ll be immortal and an adopted child, cousin’s with Ajax. you’re arriving late because you were needed in an undisclosed place before coming to Nevermore. You’ll have a few different abilities such as teleporting, strength, hypnotism, shapeshifting and going in and out of the realm of the dead as you please. It’ll be different from the one in beetle juice, you’ll have a dark obese with three doors for each realm, hell, heaven and of course the in between. Any questions on that?”

Tim looks at you waiting for an answer.

“Will my character have any weaknesses for them to be able to die?” you asked.

“Yes in fact they will be a weapon of some sort but you don’t need to worry about that as of now.” tim replied 

“Okay well that’s all I really have about the character.”

“Okay so let’s get into the arrangement of flights and where you’ll be living. So we’ll be filming in Europe, probably in Ireland and you’ll be living in the apartment complex with the other actors. The flight’s will be sent to you so you know the times of when to leave and be able to get here. Also set hours will be sorted when you get here since we still need to get measurements for your costumes. As well as introductions  with everyone else. Other than that… oh yeah your script will be sent to you online to read through and then you’ll have your real copy when you get here.” Tim says looking back at you 

“That sounds great. I'll make sure to read through all of it and get ready for everything.” you replied. 

“Perfect talk soon.” Tim says before ending the meeting. 

You were left sitting in your living room of the apartment you shared with your roommates. No one in your apartment knows about this so you’re happy that they were all gone off to work or at Uni to not be at home to listen to your meeting. Looking at all the emails that were sent to you for the set and where you’ll be going. You planned what you needed to do for the next few weeks before leaving. 

You sat at the living room with all the rest of your roommates staring at you confused on why you called a meeting. “So I won’t be living here for a while or maybe ever again so I have my share of the cost of the apartment in this envelope for 2 months and that should cover the whole time I'm still here before I leave. I just wanted to let you guys know so you can start looking for a new roommate.” you sat there smiling at all of them placing the envelope on the coffee table. 

“Wait so you’re leaving in 2 months? Why?” Abby, one of your friends asked, looking at you weirdly. 

“I swear if it’s you trying to U-haul yourself into another girl's apartment just think about it a bit more because you know what happened last time.” your friend Fred said, looking at you with concern. 

“Oh please don’t, look we know you're a hopeless romantic but the last time you tried it with your girlfriend Erica it didn’t go too well. I Mean you guys broke up after moving in for a week and you're lucky that when you came back the room was free and not only that but when you moved back in you wouldn’t stop listening to sad songs and crying for 3 months.”  Jess explained, freaking out. Jess was always looking out for you and making sure you were okay. She was like your mum. 

“Okay, first of all, yes I am leaving in 2 months. Secondly, I can’t say why it’s my secret.. Thirdly, I'm not u-hauling. Okay, I learned my lesson after the 5th time… Fourth, it’s nothing to do with me having a girlfriend. I don't even have one. You guys know that I've been single for 2 years now.” 

“Okay so why are you leaving? Did you find a better place without us? Are you getting sick of us right now cause look we don’t even barge in your room all the time… anymore. Okay look we’ll stop for real give you all the privacy in the world.”  Jess said, sitting in front of you holding your hands. 

“No it’s not that either okay. I don’t care that you come into my room unannounced… at least not anymore.” you responded whispering that last part. 

“Then what is it? If you don’t have a good enough explanation then we won’t let you leave.” Abby said, crossing her arms and staring down at you. She was easily angered when it came to not answering her questions or just ignoring her in general. 

“Okay first of all what do you not get by it’s my secret and secondly you can’t do that i’m pretty sure against the law.” Y/n said looking at her scared. 

“Well tell us and Abby won’t lock you away in your room tied to your bed.” Fred sat sipping his drink well looking at you. 

“Huh.. okay but i’m not telling you everything and you need to not tell anyone and I mean anyone, no random hookups fred, none of your uni mates Jess and no one at the bar Abby okay?” Y/N responded seriously, looking at all three of them in the room. 

“Hey it’s not all hook ups, I bring friends over.” Fred answered, offended. Everyone turned to look at him with raised eyebrows pointing to the fridge with the point system with all the men he’s slept with. “...you guys are mean,” he said, sinking further into the couch. 

All three of them scoffed at him. “Okay fine we promise to not say anything to anyone. Unless you're a secret agent and we didn’t know.” Abby responded with a smirk 

Y/n looked at her with a straight face then at Jess waiting for her to respond. 

“I promise to not tell anyone as well y/n/n.” 

Y/n smiled and looked at Fred. 

"Yeah yeah I promise the same.” 

Y/n let out a breath and smiled at all of them. “Okay so basically I've been doing some auditions and I haven't told you guys about it because I was scared, I was never going to get any roles and it would have been a waste of my time. Which has been happening until today. I got a call from my manager that I got a role and it’s a pretty big role. I can’t say anything else.” Y/n said looking at all of them both excited and nervous. 

“Omg y/n that’s so great!!!” all of them yelled while jumping up.

“Okay we can be quiet, you know we have neighbors and thin walls.”  y/n responded by putting her hands up and standing from the chair.  

“Holy shit our friend and roommate is going to be a star. Don’t you dare forget about us or else.” Abby threatened y/n. y/n gulped knowing that they all had some blackmail in their phones. 

“Of course I won't. You guys are the closest family I have.” y/n said looking up at them.

[jetkkawrites]

Hi! I was inspired by @artsymeeshee work on Sea Grunks specifically how they depict Ford. He just seems so warm and friendly and protective so, I decided to scaffold out my own little Post-GF AU in which Ford has decided to teach Cryptozoology at Roadkill County Community College and how he makes connections there. He has his family but needs friends too.

Cryptozoology 101: Chapter One

- Today was the day. New semester, a fresh start to the year. Or at least that’s what Neena Caballero wants to think. This is going to be her third year at Roadkill Community College, studying..well, even she had forgotten at this point. Last semester hadn’t been her best so she’s earning extra credit by being a TA for Cryptozoology 101: An Intro to the Paranormal taught by a Doctor Stanford Pines. She didn’t know the first thing about animals, let alone..crypto-animals? Whatever.

- Doctor Stanford Pines has been in his classroom since five-thirty in the morning, writing out his notes for the morning on the white board. They are neat and in perfectly lines, but the board is completely filled. He’s moved onto the wall.

- Neena opens the door.

- Stanford turns around. Ah, that must be his TA. He turns around.

- He doesn’t exactly know what he expected someone named Neena to look like. She has brown, freckled skin, a squared face and jaw. She seems athletic based on the shorts and jersey she’s wearing, layered underneath a blue-and-white color blocked letterman’s jacket. Her hair is voluminous and curly. The emerald pendants in her ears catch the light. Her dark eyes scan the room in confusion.

- “Hello,” He greets. “You must be Neena—or,” he remembers her name listed on the roster. “Diana is also on the roster I was given if you prefer to be called that.” He folds his hands behind his back, dry-erase marker still in his palms

- Neena is a little shocked to hear her first name; her mother was the only person who ever called her that and they don’t talk anymore. “Neena is fine.” She rubs her forearm; inked on it is a snake; it’s drawn so it looks like it’s curling upwards. Stanford wants to ask about it, but he doesn’t. Instead his gaze trails down to her sneakers. Bright red Converse High tops.

- “I remember having a pair of those when I was your age.”

- “Huh?” Neena looks at her feet. “Oh, yeah.” She chuckles. “These are my favorites.”

- A long and awkward pause ensues.

- “Well,” Stanford clears his throat. “What do you know about anomalies?” He asks her and waits patiently for an answer.

- “Nothing,” Neena isn’t afraid to admit that, because she truly doesn’t know anything about anomalies. She knows the town over, Gravity Falls, where she lives, is known for having monsters and other types of supernatural creatures in their midst but she doesn’t really believe in that. Stanford smiles. “Well, I hope you’ll learn a lot this semester, then. What’s your major?”

- She wants to say English, because that’s what she wants to do so badly, but instead she says Biology. “I want to be a science teacher.”

- “Oh, that’s lovely,” He nods and taps his forehead with his index finger. “Nourishing young minds, a respectable line of work.”

- Neena smiles. “Sure is.”

- Stanford starts to go over the curriculum. The class starts to file in; some of them are baby faced high-school graduates, some are a little older. Neena’s seen them around town, and then there are a few parents, even.

- Their first lesson begins with an introduction to mythos, specifically Greek and Mayan. Neena tries her best to pay attention. It’s her whole job. Today is September 2nd. Today is her birthday. One week before, she found out she was pregnant. Three days ago, her boyfriend left.

- It was her birthday and no one called. Not her brother, not her mom. Not her best friend back in Boston. No one.

- Her stomach lurches.

- “First, we must go over the Greek Pantheon. The twelve main gods did not materialize out of nowhere. There were titans, the most powerful of which was Kronos..”

- The words on the board start to swim and churn, falling over each other in waves. Swim, Neena, just keep swimming. You know all of this.

- “Kronos was a ruthless leader who did not want his children to overthrow him, so he ate them all.” Dr. Pines was clearly a storyteller. “But one, who would become the God King, lit a fire in his father’s belly..”

- The fluttering in Neena’s belly grows louder and louder. She just keeps her head down and tries to listen and write down something to post on Clockwork, the note-sharing website that she has to use. Kronos. Zeus. God-King. Pantheon. Babies. Fire. Olympus.

- “Neena?”

- Class is over. Class is over. She missed the bell because she was so deep in her thoughts. She’s only written words, six of them in the first page of her notebook.

- Her lip quivers. Her eyes begin to water. She sniffles.

- “Sorry.” She closes the notebook. “I’m sorry. There’s just..a lot h-happening in my life.”

- And though the last thing she wants to do is sink into someone’s arms, Neena with bruise-blossomed skin and tired arms, a simply exhausted head that’s clouded by thoughts she believed she wouldn’t have, not now.

- She cried. And Dr. Pines let her. Once she was done, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and it all starts to pour out.

- “I..uh, just found out I’m pregnant. And it’s my birthday. And it’s my third year of college. And I teach, well, boxing. And it pays the bills, and..I don’t know. I just don’t know.” She picks up her bag.

- Stanford feels unease twist in his gut. This poor girl. It’s her birthday, for Tesla’s sake. “I know that we don’t know each other well,” He had only known her for less than two hours but he felt for her. “But I’m..I would like to be a resource of some sort. If you need time to post notes online or grade papers, then that’s okay.”

- Instantly, Neena feels a great sense of relief and a great swell of dread; this guy was already pitying her and ninety-nine percent of the time, she wouldn’t have stood for it. But she was glad to have support of some sort.

- “Thank you, sir—I, professor. I—thanks.” She wipes her eyes with her sleeve again.

- Ford smiles; his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Of course, Neena. I’ll see you Wednesday when we go deeper into Mayan and Muisca mythology.”

- “Okay. Great.”

- It was Neena’s only class of the day, so she books it to the parking lot and gets in her car, a Ford Taurus painted celery green, a tester color, and a busted bumper. She gets into the drivers’ side and just sits there for an hour scrolling though her contacts deleting, deciding to keep them, it was a cycle that repeated itself. Then two hours passed. Then three.

- Fuck. It was late. She had to get home. Lovecraft Heights was cozy and snug; it overlooks the lake. Neena’s apartment is on the first floor, and she has a clear path down to the water’s edge. Nightfall is swift and she’s taken refuge in her own mind, reading her copy of Gareth Hind’s Odyssey for the million time. She’s curled up on the couch, engrossed in the pages of Penelope’s challenge when she hears it. She takes off her headphones which are blasting the Hamilton soundtrack and hears it again.

- Singing, so sweet and melodic that it must have come from the heavens or something.

- She goes outside, book in hand, headphones around her neck and slowly inches toward the water. Even though she doesn’t want to. Something feels off. She slips her headphones back on her head. The lakefront is idyllic; sparkling green waters - moonlight shimmered across the rippling landscape. There’s a shadow sitting on the white sands of the shores.

- Out of the foam comes a..a fish? But it has teeth or..or fangs and eyes and long, webbed hands.

- Oh, shit. Oh, holy shit. Oh, holy shit. That’s a siren. That’s a siren. She breaks into a sprint and approaches the person by the water. He’s a kid, with a journal in his lap. He has this glazed over look in his eyes.

- The siren is just staring at him with her big green sclera. Her hair hangs around her face like a wet curtain.

- In a moment of, well she didn’t know what, Neena rips her headphones off of her head and puts them onto the boys. “Come on, we gotta go.”

- He was not going to stand up, so she lifted him over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She could stand the noise so long if she was running away from that fish demon, right?

- “Dipper?” Called a voice. “Dipper, where are you?” It was one Neena recognized immediately. Dr. Pines came running down the path to the shore. He was in a slim, black trenchcoat, cargo pants, and work-boots that were covered in mud. “Neena!”

- “Dr. Pines, I…” Her mind went hazy.

- Dr. Pines reached into his pocket and pulled out two little yellow earplugs. “Put these in.

- “But-“

- “Give me the boy, just put those in.”

- Neena did as told and followed the two up the path to the parking lot. The boy is still dazed, but at least he’s coherent.

- “I didn’t mean to, Great Uncle Ford. I thought she was far enough away so I wouldn’t be affected.”

- Dr. Pines steadies his great-nephew by the shoulders. “I understand. But I asked you not to go without me.”

- The boy, Dipper, seems so disappointed. “I’m sorry.”

- Neena takes out the earplugs. Just by feeling the texture she knows they’re beeswax. Pure beeswax.

- “Just like in the Odyssey.”

- Dr. Pines glances at Neena. “Yes, I suppose I was inspired by that.”

- “You suppose?” Neena laughs. “You took a page right out of Odysseus’ handbook.”

- Dr. Pines smiles at Neena. “Alright, I guess I did.” He gives Neena back her headphones; Dipper shuffles off to the old station mustard-yellow station wagon that’s old enough to have belonged to her grandfather.

- Dr. Pines sets a hand on Neena’s shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough.”

- “It was nothing,” The understatement of the century, maybe.

- “You weren’t telling me the whole truth today,”

- “Huh?”

- “You know more about anomalies than you said you did.”

- Neena doesn’t know what to say. She just shrugs.

- Dr. Pines bids her farewell again, and thank you, and gets in his car. Neena watches as he pulls out of the parking lot and lingers by the shore path for a little while longer before going back inside.

[bigassbowlingballhead]

people are seriously under appreciating the red turtle neck look in your poll

That's the thing with tzp though, ain't it. you can put in him a literal bag (givenchy) and he still manages to make it look hot.

he looks good in everything

[rayveneyed]

nanami kento is the kind of man that makes people swoon without even realising it.

he's the kind of man to walk into a luxury store after work, suit jacket folded over one arm and a bouquet of flowers in the other -- his blonde hair still mostly perfect from the high-end pomade he uses. he scours the shelves, frowning to himself, while the attendants whisper and giggle amongst themselves near the tills -- an argument over who will be the one to talk to him, because he's intimidatingly pretty.

("just look at him," one whispers. "he's definitely buying something for a girlfriend."

"a wife," another disagrees. "c'mon. he's giving husband vibes."

someone hums. "but i can't see a wedding band."

"his mother, maybe?" says one other. "oh, i love when guys come in shopping for their mother."

"nobody's mother is getting a bouquet of a hundred red roses--")

eventually, one of them is volunteered as a sacrifice -- smiling and sweet as all attendants should be, she clears her throat. the others, crowded around the till, watch the exchange closely. "excuse me, sir. is there anything we could help you with today?"

her mouth is dry and her hands are clammy -- and when he fixes her with those narrow, burning eyes, her throat bobs.

"ah, yes." and his voice is deep and gravelly and drawling, and her stomach turns. she can only imagine what her coworkers are thinking -- hell, she can only imagine what she's thinking. her mind has stopped short. "my girlfriend likes this brand quite a bit. i thought i'd pick her up something..."

disappointment brews in her stomach -- and it's stupid, she knows it's stupid, because obviously a guy like that is taken. and -- she glances down at the roses -- obviously he treats her super fucking well. of course he does, because why wouldn't he? "oh, perfect! do you have anything in mind?"

"well, actually..."

he ends up buying one of the priciest gift boxes available -- fancy body care and perfume laid out in their signature boxes, decorated with ribbon and dried lavender -- no argument, no fight. he doesn't look for something cheaper, doesn't try to haggle or remove something to decrease the price. he adds, and adds, and adds -- and when she mentions a special offer at the till, a little add on for an extra 2000 yen, he accepts it readily. he inserts a black card into the card machine (of course, a black card), takes the beautifully wrapped bag, and thanks the girls for their services -- and just as he's leaving, his phone rings.

of course he answers the phone with hello, darling. of course he begins to ask his girlfriend about her day, the girls think with some amount of annoyance -- of course. maybe the curse of retail isn't entitled assholes expecting you to wait on hand and foot for them -- maybe it's the handsome men coming in to splurge on their girlfriends while you're painfully single and working for pennies.

[sapsolais]

<3

[lokissweater]

i know your name ✭

{gojo satoru x f!reader}

summary: gojo satoru was practically everyone’s god as his shiny charming reputation has followed him ever since high school and through college— his band he had with his best friend suguru packing the local college pub every night just to see him sing and play the bass. unbeknownst to you, satoru has been keeping an eye on you, and when you officially meet him right before one of his shows, satoru just about falls to his knees over you.

warnings: MDNI. college au, CAR SMUT be patient!!, fingering, squirting, a bit of oral hehe, cursing, angst, FLUFFF, FILTHY DIRTY TALK, a sprinkle of degradation, tinyyy mentions of alcohol and drinking, gojo is obsessed with reader, afab!reader, jealousy.

word count: 8.8k

authors note: oh my goodness this one took me a FAT MINUTE but it’s SO SO CUTE and i hope you all think so too!! thank you thank you for all of your notes on my works!! MWAHH.

————————————————————————

“please come with me to the alley, i don’t think i can handle one moron and an even bigger moron by myself.”

shoko shimmied her jacket onto her shoulders, a disgruntled and pleading look on her face as she turned to face you. “they’re only playing a few songs, and you don’t have to drink!”

you laughed softly. “who’s they?”

“suguru and satoru, they’re playing at the alley.”

“gojo satoru?”

the cogs in your brain spun as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, a bit apprehensive. the alley was the place everyone went to at your college to get drunk and laid, and it also happened to be the place where the two boys played their band almost every night— satoru mainly having connections with the owner of the bar to even allow a bunch of college kids to trash the place to begin with.

you didn’t necessarily know satoru, but in your years of observing him back in high school, you knew he was viewed by anyone and everyone as a god, his reputation shiny and impressive as he had the greatest charisma and charm you had ever seen.

you remember back to when basically every other day he was getting confessed to in the halls or in class— or after school… or literally anywhere now that you thought about it.

but satoru has never been prideful or rude, even though it was something that was supposed to be written for him being the most popular guy— but he just simply didn’t follow it.

satoru was kind. really kind. and even though he got millions of confessions per year, he treated each rejection with gentleness and respect, never turning a cold eye to anyone as he apologized profusely and tried to help them feel better.

he always volunteered to do your class banners and plan your school’s activities, festivals, and field trips so nobody else had the burden of missing out on the fun. he always helped out the gardener after school and watered the plants with them (soon after practically taking over the entire shift for free and telling them to relax on a bench), tutored his friends and peers when they asked him for help, and made anyone that felt left out feel included.

that’s why he was so popular. gojo satoru was a ray of sunshine with bright blue eyes and white ruffly hair, with a gorgeous face that you never saw without a smile— loud and obnoxious and a little clumsy, but kind.

“i still don’t know why they started a band.. but they get pretty big tips every night so i guess that’s why,” shoko muttered, sipping the last of her iced tea as she got up from her seat— the cafe you were both sitting in quiet and warm as you copied her actions and stood. “or could be because satoru likes the attention.”

you weren’t close with suguru or satoru like shoko was, and you’ve never even properly met them either, but you always listened to her whenever she’d complain and understood her completely nonetheless.

you laughed at her last comment and smiled. “i’ll go… but i can only stay for two songs! i have class at seven am tomorrow.”

she smiled wide and threw her arms around you, “thank you thank you thank you!”

you’ve never actually been to the alley before, only having heard about it through the grapevine and from your other classmates that went, parties and concerts and drinking never really on the schedule for you. you honestly loved parties and concerts, and you loved the idea of hanging out with people and doing whatever your hearts desired until the sun came up.

but ever since you started college, your high school group kind of disappeared, and now you only really have one true best friend that you preferred over anything else, that being shoko. your nights are usually always calm and filled with studying or self care, your little life quiet and independent as you navigated through the days on your own.

and although you were a bit lonely at times, yearning for another soul to share your nights with, you learned to enjoy your own company.

the alley was a couple of blocks down from the cafe you and shoko were originally at, your ears already picking up on the vibrations of guitars and drums from outside as she approached the bouncer at the front, not even being able to get a word in before the big man was already telling her no.

“no?!” shoko dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “i was literally here last week, i’m friends with the band that’s playing.”

“sorry we’re at max capacity—”

“it’s okay, they both can come in. they’re on stage with us.”

your eyes snapped to the door and you recognized geto suguru, his long jet black hair cascading down to his shoulders as he sported an all black outfit— politely smiling at the bouncer.

the man moved to the side and ushered us in, shoko’s shoulders dropping in relief as you both walked in and over to a table by the stage. “thank you suguru.”

he nodded. “if i don’t, satoru will throw another fit again and say you don’t love him if you don’t show up.”

shoko rolled her eyes and looked at you, her lips pressed into a thin line. “you see what i mean?”

“shoko!” a loud, booming and enthusiastic voice rang through the pub as you turned, spotting none other than satoru with his long arms open, more or less throwing himself on her. “you came!”

“you threatened me—”

“i did no such thing!” he sprung back. “are you not here out of the goodness of your heart? to support your two best boys living their dreams?”

“no.”

“shokooo!” he whined and you giggled, which caused him to snap his head in your direction, finally noticing your presence.

her.

“oh! hello,” he smiled kindly to you and extended his hand. “i’m satoru, and you are?”

“y/n!” you grinned sweetly and politely to him, taking his cold hand in yours and shaking it.

“are you a friend of shoko’s?”

you nodded.

he cocked his head to the side, “how come i’ve never seen you around?”

“oh i don’t go out too often, that’s probably why,” you laughed lightly, a little embarrassed by your answer.

he beamed anyways, his smile so big and brilliant that you were starting to see for yourself exactly why everyone loved him so much, not that you didn’t already know the reason behind it in the first place.

“me neither!”

satoru was still holding your hand.

“yes you do!” shoko scoffed. “you’re barely ever at your apartment and i always have to be your designated driver—”

he gawked, glaring at her. “that’s not true! i was home yesterday!”

“because you were hungover.” suguru mumbled.

you laughed again, and satoru turned back to face you, a grin on his face.

just then, a rather large group of guys started making their way towards your area, all beckoning and calling for satoru while holding up several shot glasses, his head snapping towards their direction and flashing a dazzling smile.

“satoru come!”

“satoru take some with us!”

he gently let go of your hand and raised his, waving high as he readjusted his black round sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, “give me a second! i’ll be over!”

satoru turned back to you, resuming the conversation.

“sorry, she lies. she likes to lie. i’m glad i didn’t go to high school with her.”

“yes we did— i’m going over to your followers and stealing a shot, goodbye.” shoko grumbled, throwing her purse on the table and walking away, dragging suguru along with her.

“we actually um..” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “we went to high school together.”

“oh i know.”

your eyebrows pinched together.

he knows?

“you used to water the garden on days i couldn’t afterschool, right?”

your eyes widened a little.

“oh! and you used to fix the class banners whenever i didn’t notice my fuck up, which was always.” he patted the top of your head and laughed, “thank you for that by the way.”

“you knew?” you murmured, a rosy tint to your cheeks.

“duh,” his eyes softened. “i’m sorry i never thanked you properly then.”

you shook your head dumbly, a little spaced out as you took in what he said. “no it’s okay.”

your eyes then fell to the instruments and band set up behind him, suddenly remembering that he was performing tonight.

“so what do you guys play?” you spoke up gently, hands wringing behind your back. “do you play original songs? or covers?”

“covers! 80’s covers.” he explained excitedly. “suguru and i switch off singing. i play the bass and he plays the guitar, and we have a couple of extra friends in the back playing the drums and keyboard.”

your eyes sparkled as you watched the stage set up process, black chords scattered everywhere on the ground in disarray as several individuals on the platform tuned their instruments or plucked out a few notes.

“80’s?” you perked up. “what kind of 80’s?”

“what kind?”

“yeah! morissey? the cure? new order—”

satoru was awestruck, mouth slightly parted. “you know who they are?”

you quickly nodded, a cute smile on your face.

“you like the cure?” he asked quietly.

“i love the cure.”

satoru practically had hearts in his eyes as he beamed down at you with a stupid face, his heart a little frazzled with a familiar feeling sparkling in his chest.

“satoru!”

he snapped out of his trance and spun around, suguru on stage beckoning him over. “sorry, we have to start.”

“okay!” he walked backwards as he quickly faced you again and smiled, a little frantic. “i’ll talk to you after we play! i’m gonna quiz you on it so pay attention!”

you laughed, your hand covering your mouth a bit as you nodded. “is it counting towards my grade? or is it extra credit?”

“extra credit if you go on a date with me after the show!”

you stopped.

“she can’t! moron,” shoko suddenly appeared beside you and threw an arm around your shoulder. “she’s only staying for two songs!”

gojo’s jaw dropped slack, his shoulders slumping as he got up on stage, arms out. “two?!”

you grimaced, an apologetic look on your face and kind of feeling like a lame grandma as you nodded, “i have class at seven am tomorrow!”

before he could even respond, satoru got pulled by tech crew to test out his microphone, and you and shoko gradually settled yourselves on the high bar stool chairs at your table.

“odd,” she muttered with a funny look on her face.

“hm? what is?” your eyes switched to hers.

“satoru’s never asked a girl out before.”

your eyes bulged open. “never?”

“never.” shoko sipped a little at her beer and gave you a comforting smile. “i’ve always seen girls try it with him and ask him out or simply just follow him around like a lost dog, but he’s never gone after anyone.”

you watched a little smirk spread across her face, and your hands grew a tiny bit sweaty as you swallowed thickly.

“if you’re interested in him, there’s a line. but i think you have a head start.”

the music started— suguru introducing himself, satoru, and the band calm and pleasantly before they began playing their first song. it was loud and rhythmic, vibrations murmuring through the floor as your glass of water shook on the table with every note.

they weren’t bad at all— they were actually pretty good, really good, and you found yourself not really wanting to admit it since it seemed like satoru was good at a million different things regardless of category or genre.

“do they have a name for their band?!” you yelled over the music, leaning your frame a little closer to her without taking your eyes off of the stage.

shoko snorted, “the strongest monkeys.”

you threw your head back and laughed loudly, looking at her incredulously. “really?!”

as he performed on stage, satoru noticed you laugh and he smiled against the microphone, a vision he connected back to high school, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he was internally a little unsteady as your pretty eyes watched him play and sing— feeling embarrassed whenever he would trip over a chord clumsily like he seemed to do at every freaking show, but feeling better seeing as it made you giggle.

by the end of their second song, you showed shoko the time on your phone and tried to stand as discretely as possible in attempts at not disturbing anyone around you, grabbing your purse from the arm of your chair and swinging it over your shoulder.

but when you looked up, satoru was already looking at you as suguru spoke through the microphone, his eyes wide and pleading as he held up his index finger.

“one more song!” he mouthed. “please.”

you gnawed at your bottom lip anxiously, your eyes darting around the pub and back to the time on your phone before they landed again on satoru.

“stay.” he mouthed again.

and for reasons you couldn’t explain, your body pulled you back down on the stool and you sat— shoko quirking an eyebrow at you in confusion.

satoru’s face broke out into the brightest smile, a smile equivalent to the blinding rays of the sun as he pushed up his round sunglasses and gave you a cute thumbs up.

“thank you.”

and your heart stuttered.

you eventually decided to stay for the rest of the show, seeing as it was already late as fuck anyways— and they played few more songs then, a mix of well known 80’s songs as well as a few underrated ones, your head nodding gently to the beat and swaying your little shoulders. in the midst of it, satoru had been watching and glancing in your direction so many times throughout the show, that he subconsciously started mimicking your little shoulder sway on stage as he performed.

college girls screamed practically every five minutes when the boys did anything, some even going as far as running up the platform and reaching up for satoru’s hands or ankles as he played, him smiling bright at each and every one of them with shoko shaking her head in disappointment— her forehead falling to the palm of her hand as you laughed.

ironically by the end of it, the band closed with the cure, and as the crowd dispersed and several took their leave from the alley— some shouting words of praise at the boys, you and shoko stood and walked over to the stage. satoru in a heartbeat noticed you coming over and hooked his mic quickly back on the mic stand, tossing the strap of his bass over his shoulders and setting it down before hopping off stage.

“did you like it?” he panted hopefully, trying to catch his breath as his forehead glistened with sweat, his hands on his hips.

you smiled gently. “i did! good job, you both played really great songs.”

suguru gave you a small smile in gratitude from the platform as he unplugged and untangled a few chords— and satoru beamed, nodding. “i’m glad! okay, here comes your quiz!”

“oh god.”

“we played the cure at the end…” satoru dragged out.

“mhm…”

“what song?” he tilted his head to the side, and your cheeks went pink as you grinned.

“pictures of you,” you replied softly. “it’s my favorite one.”

satoru’s forehead fell to rest against your shoulder, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“i would expect nothing less from you, y/n.”

you hummed out a laugh, and his heart did a tiny somersault at the sound before he picked his head back up and looked at you softly.

“thank you for staying.”

shoko bounded over to you then and looped her arm through yours. “ready to go?”

you nodded quickly before smiling sweetly at satoru. “i’ll see you around! thank you for—”

“wait!” he shot his arms out frantically with wide eyes. “what about our date?”

you froze. “our date?”

“unless you want the quiz to count towards your grade…” he mumbled lowly, eyes darting on everything and everywhere except you with pinky cheeks.

“i didn’t think you were being serious about that..” you spoke gently.

his eyebrows furrowed. “why not?”

“because you’re gojo satoru,” shoko butt in.

you quickly flicked her forehead— your lips pressed into a thin line, earning a little laugh from satoru as you turned your head to look at him again.

“i have an early class tomorrow… ill see you around though, okay?”

without thinking, satoru reached over and placed a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you to face him.

“let me take you to class.”

shoko and suguru exchanged a look and your lips parted, eyebrows pinching together.

“what?”

“i’ll take you to class in the morning,” he looked desperate. “and i won’t count the quiz towards your grade.”

you were skeptical, very skeptical, unsure of what satoru wanted from you in this situation. you had just met him, properly at least, and though you knew he was a good person, you weren’t sure if that was still relevant in the field of picking up girls.

you looked to shoko, who shrugged, and your eyes landed back to satoru’s pleading one’s, your entire body and soul hesitating.

“i—” you gnawed at your bottom lip, a nervous habit as you took in the way he looked like a sad little puppy the longer you took to respond, your heart not having the ability to ever say no to anyone, ever. not even him.

“okay.”

his shoulders relaxed, and he let out a puff of relieved air as he gave you the biggest smile, nodding hopefully.

“okay! h—here-” he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. “if i could— if i could have your number? and i’ll text you when im on my way and stuff…”

you shakily took satoru’s phone, the screen already opened up to the ‘add contact’ feature as you typed in your number before passing it back to him.

“thank you!” he beamed. “i’ll see you tomorrow then?”

he was so excited, and you really didn’t know why, but you couldn’t help but give him a sweet smile of yours in return, nodding.

“see you.”

when you finally arrived home that night, it didn’t take satoru even ten minutes after that to text you.

(unknown): i have good news for you miss y/n

you stared at your phone, your heart jumping a bit as you typed back a response.

(you): and i have bad news for you satoru

(satoru): WHAT

(satoru): ok wait me first

(satoru): congrats you passed my class!! that quiz bumped up your grade from 0% to 100% ur so smart

(satoru): but if your bad news is you rejecting me i’m FAILING you

(you): HAHAHAHA

(you): silly silly

(you): my bad news was that i always have banana milk on my way to school in the mornings and unfortunately i don’t have any extra for you :(

(you): i ran out ;(

within the two minutes that it took for you to respond with your declared bad news, satoru was absolutely shitting it, wholeheartedly believing you were going to reject him and leave him to dramatically rot away all alone.

he replied quickly, a goofy smile on his face.

(satoru): that’s literally the only reason why i asked you out :(

(you): and how do you know i have banana milk in the mornings before school?

(satoru): OH

(satoru): SO ABOUT TOMORROW

you giggled, wiping the last of your makeup off and turning off your vanity light before jumping into bed, snuggling into your covers as the cool air softly touched your face from your open window.

(you): *address*

(you): pick me up at 6:30 please, if that’s okay :)

(satoru): i’ll pick you up at six miss y/n

(you): SIX WHY

(satoru): for a breakfast date silly!! okay goodnight xoxo

you hadn’t even realized the huge stupid smile on your face until your rosy cheeks started to ache.

(you): HAHAHA

(you): goodnight <3

a heart?!

satoru stuffed his face into his pillow, feeling like little love birdies were flying around his head and pecking at his hair.

the following morning, you ran your fingers through your hair and probably fixed your outfit a million trillion times before you were satisfied, a huge lump in your throat as you gnawed so much at your bottom lip that it drew blood.

you were nervous, but why? you didn’t know why. maybe because it was gojo satoru picking you up. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had a guy try to hit on you in what felt like a decade, the last time really being the last day of high school when you randomly found a note in your locker, the words literally illegible.

maybe it was the fact that satoru was the most handsome man you have ever seen.

but so was he to everybody else.

(satoru): i’m outside! :]

you wiped your clammy hands on your legs and stood, hiking your school bag further up your shoulder before walking down the stairs and out the door, seeing satoru seated in his car in your driveway.

you timidly opened the door to the passenger side and stepped in.

“hi!” he greeted cheerfully and proceeded to place his hand on the back of your headrest as he backed out, looking through his rear view mirror.

“hi!” you said gently. “you’re not tired?”

“nuh uh,” he smiled at you. “i had three energy drinks before i got you.”

your head instantly whipped in his direction. “satoru— three?!”

he giggled at your reaction, the sides of his blue eyes crinkling as he patted your head. “don’t worry silly, i’ve had maybe five at a time before—”

“five?!”

you slumped against the passenger seat and closed your eyes. “satoru, you’re gonna develop heart problems if you keep this up.”

“nah,” he reached into the backseat, his eyes still on the road. “i’m the strongest.”

and you snorted then, watching him retrieve two small bottles of juice from the back without taking his eyes off of the road.

“i got us orange juice— wait do you like orange juice? oh fuck maybe—”

you giggled and waved him off, taking both bottles from his hands. “it’s okay! i do like orange juice, thank you.” you settled them on your lap neatly. “i’ll hold them while you drive.”

“aww thanks sweets,” he murmured affectionately, and your face instantly went warm to the touch.

“i also got us breakfast bagels so we can sit and people watch before your class—” his eyes snapped to yours. “if— if that’s okay.”

your heart skipped a beat at his planning, nodding as you reached into your school bag and pulled out a little yellow carton, holding it out for him as he drove.

satoru tore his gaze away from the road momentarily and looked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“your daily morning banana milk?”

you smiled softly, nudging it towards him. “for you.”

he physically melted as he looked at your sweet sweet face and back towards the road.

“you’re giving up your banana milk— for me?”

you tore off the straw from the back of the milk box, sticking it through the little opening and offering it to him again.

“yup yup.”

he bit his lower lip as he gratefully took the milk box from you, giddy and flustered on the inside as he took tiny sips.

“an absolute delicacy, thank you miss y/n.”

before you even realized it, satoru was already pulling in to the campus parking lot, shifting his gear into park and turning off the ignition before opening his door.

“don’t move!” he sputtered suddenly. “don’t touch that door hold on—”

he slammed his door shut and you watched quizzically as he ran across the front of the car and opened the door for you, flashing an award winning smile that could shatter the earth if he wanted to.

you still couldn’t piece together why he was doing so much for you or why he was interested in the first place, but as you watched him set up the breakfast bagels cutely as you both sat on the bench, him carefully handing you yours along with your orange juice, you didn’t really have the heart to ask him why.

maybe it was the more selfish side of you, the one that always longed to share little moments like this with another being, the one that always spent her days alone watching movies or doing little crafts in her room to keep the time going, a bittersweet feeling in your chest every time you saw your classmates or casual friends post about their parties or outings.

you hadn’t realized that you didn’t respond to whatever satoru had said, and you snapped out of it.

“fuck— i’m sorry satoru, i spaced out.” you laughed softly. “what were you saying?”

he stared at you, his eyes examining your face. “what’s wrong?”

“huh?”

“what were you thinking about?”

“it was— it was nothing,” you took a sip of your orange juice. “i forgot.”

satoru shoved his face close to yours, your breath hitching and your cheeks growing pink as you watched his eyes scan every part of you, his expression concerned.

“something’s bothering you,” he hummed. “am i being too forward? i’m— i’m sorry sometimes i don’t even realize—“

“no!” you shot your arms out frantically and placed them on his shoulders, “no, it’s not that, you’re okay satoru. everything you’ve done has been really nice, so thank you.”

your voice was so sweet as you spoke to him, and even though it made him feel better to some degree, he still couldn’t shake the empty and sad look he saw on your face when you were spaced out.

he slowly retreated back and hesitantly nodded as you placed your hands back on your lap, your fingers then tearing a piece from your breakfast bagel and plopping it into your mouth.

“did you ever find…” he spoke in between bites. “a note in your locker the last day of high school?”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “how do you know about that?”

he swallowed, a sheepish look on his face. “that was me. i put that note in.”

your eyes widened as your body completely froze over, putting your bagel down— the wrapper crinkling underneath as you did so.

“really?”

satoru nodded, his flushed cheeks prominent on his pale skin as he suddenly found his bagel super interesting to look at.

“what did it say?”

he looked at you baffled. “what did it say? what do you mean?”

you giggled then, your hand covering your mouth as you leaned forward a little bit. “i could— i could barely read it. the handwriting-“

“oh my fucking god!” satoru threw his arms up in despair. “that explains so much. i was so sad i straight up thought you hated me.”

you stopped. “what do you mean?”

“i wrote my name and how i thought you were really pretty, and then i wrote my number at the bottom.” he dropped his shaking head in his hands, laughing. “but i wrote it really fast because i saw you coming so i just stuffed it in there.”

he slumped over his legs on the bench, his elbows on his knees as he moaned.

“you think i’m pretty?” you asked softly.

he turned his head to the side as he was hunched over, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he smiled gently. “very.”

gojo satoru thought you were pretty.

you smiled cutely at him, reaching out and pushing his sunglasses back up his eyes, yours warm and endearing. “silly.”

you leaned back on the bench and giggled. “to be fair satoru, even if i was able to read your note, i probably would’ve thought it was a prank.”

“a prank? why?” his shoulders deflated, an unamused look on his face. “because i’m ‘gojo satoru’ like shoko said—”

“no,” you pushed. “because you’re a good person. you always go above and beyond for others and i’ve seen that as long as i’ve known you.”

you crossed a leg over the other and smiled softly. “and because of that i’m really not sure why you like me satoru, i haven’t really done anything special but—”

“what you just said is a crime. the way you think about me is the way i think about you.” he cut in, eyes serious. “you think you don’t do anything special? i literally watched you all through high school bend over backwards for people, for me, like i did,“ he sighed through his nose. “but your intentions were genuine and pure, mine were not.”

he finished the last of his bagel and crumpled up the wrapper into a ball, tossing it in the trash can next to him as he leaned back.

satoru swallowed. “i feel like if i don’t do the things that i do for people, ill end up disappointing everyone i know. i feel like everyone’s built this image of me that i don’t even know where the fuck it came from—” he shook his head. “but i don’t want to tarnish that. i don’t want to let people down. so i just let them ask me for stuff. i don’t even like going out that much either, believe it or not. i just go when they call.”

he crossed his arms. “whenever people do do something in return for me, it’s like i’m forever in their debt and they’re always expecting something from me back.”

your sad eyes softened, the confession in front of you a reaction from him you realized must’ve been buried deep deep down his chest— without any prior chance of resurfacing until this very moment.

you never thought about his situation this way. you would’ve never thought that satoru could’ve felt like this about his own reputation, something you guiltily believed was a thing he was absolutely floored over.

“you never expected anything back from me though,” he murmured. “you fixed my fucked up banners and switched around reservations when i absentmindedly chose the wrong thing for our school field trips, and you never said a word about it to me or anyone, and you didn’t expect anything back.”

he finally turned his bright blue eyes in your direction, and looked at you so deeply, so sincerely, that your mind went completely blank.

“that’s why i like you,” satoru bashfully scratched his cheek. “you do special things everyday and— and i was moved.”

there was a moment of silence, satoru staring at the ground as you stared at him, a delicate and insecure side of him unfolding before you that you don’t think anyone has ever seen, and you intended to keep it that way— wanting this special moment selfishly just for you.

you slowly leaned forward then as you made him look at you.

“its natural for you to be upset and think indifferently about people walking all over you, toru. it doesn’t mean you’re not genuine or pure.”

raising your arm, you poked his pink cheek gently and gave him a little comforting smile. “it actually only further solidifies to me how much of a good person you are. because even though people take advantage of your kindness, you help them with what they need regardless, and do way more.”

his eyes softened.

“at the end of the day, even though it makes you a little mad, you want to help people, because if you didn’t, you simply wouldn’t do it.”

you nudged his shoulder playfully with yours, “but not anymore, okay? from now on when people are blatantly taking advantage of how nice you are, you have to draw a line they can’t cross.”

he smiled wide.

“i’d let you cross it.”

“no not even me,” you shook your head. “not that’d i’d ever anyways.”

he looked at you, and then unexpectedly, satoru slowly leaned in and pressed a delicate, soft kiss to your cheek— his lips lingering there greedily for a few seconds more before pulling away, your shocked bright pink cheeks making him burst out laughing.

you missed class without even realizing, but you didn’t have an ounce of care in your body, seeing as satoru was worth more than anything from that point on.

since then you both hung out a lot more, and you still had your little quiet nights of self care, arts and crafts, and movies— except now, satoru was present in every activity.

satoru longed for your lifestyle, and you longed for his— so the act of watching movies together until two in the morning, making horrific origami bird shapes that never looked like the pictures in the instruction manual and laughing, sorting through his 80’s cd collection in his apartment while he sampled a few for you on his bass, and singing the cure so loud through his car sunroof while he drove you aimlessly at night with a strong grip on your thigh, were all a perfect blend of exactly what you both needed most.

it was several months of spending every waking moment together that you soon eventually became a little thing with satoru. there wasn’t an official label, and you guys hadn’t even kissed, but the longer than normal embraces, kisses on each others cheeks, and intertwined fingers everywhere you went was an obvious sign that something was there.

you picked up on how people looked at you more often rather quickly ever since satoru started bringing you around his circle, wondering how you came out of nowhere and captured his attention when thousands had tried for years.

and though most welcomed you with open arms and kind smiles, the majority of his girl fan base was bitter.

shoko often told you to just shake it off and not pay any mind to it, saying that it was a bunch of mean girls with nothing better to do, but it got a little harder once a pretty black haired girl named lina started grabbing satoru for conversations almost every night at the alley.

and today was no different.

“hi sweets!” satoru greeted you enthusiastically, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek as you arrived early to the pub to help him and suguru set up for tonight’s show. “you look very pretty today.”

“thank you!” you smiled wide and leaned up on your tippy toes, your body automatically pulling your lips to his until you quickly steered them to the corner of his mouth, pecking lightly before settling back down on the soles of your feet.

that wasn’t the first time you had almost accidentally kissed him, but it wasn’t just you, as satoru slipped up almost every second of every day when you both were together— the thought making you laugh internally as you followed him to the stage.

“don’t help out this time—” he pleaded gently with you as he took a high barstool chair for you and dragged it closer to the stage. “i want you to just sit and be pretty.”

you tilted your head to the side. “why toru? i don’t mind helping out i like it—”

“no i know!” he smiled sweetly at you. “but i want you to just sit there and relax and not lift a finger tonight. you’ll hurt yourself if you do.”

you giggled softly and nodded, hopping up on the stool and wringing your fingers together on your lap as you watched satoru set up his amp and readjust his mic stand, gnawing on your bottom lip as you watched the way his biceps and chest looked in his black compression tee.

“are you thirsty sweets?” he asked, his eyes trained to the ground as he untangled a bunch of chords and threw them behind him. “i can get you something from the bar?”

“oh no!” you shook your head quickly. “it’s okay toru you’re busy—”

satoru hopped off the stage and jogged over to the bar, him exchanging a few words with the bartender that you couldn’t quite make out until he jogged back over with a cold glass of sugary iced tea, placing it on your table under a coaster.

“for you.”

you smiled sheepishly, “thank you.”

“if you need—”

“satoru! hey!”

you snapped your head over to the entrance and saw lina, her wave a little flirty as she bounced over to the both of you.

lina only spared you a glance before her sparkling suggestive eyes landed back on satoru.

“oh hey?” he looked over at the clock on the wall. “im sorry, the alley doesn’t open for another two hours—”

“oh i know!” she twirled a strand of hair with her fingers. “i just wanted to stop by and see if you needed any help? you know, setting up?”

what.

your eyebrows pinched together and you looked at satoru, waiting for his answer.

“oh! um— sure! thanks!” he smiled at her, and you felt a pang of annoyance through your chest as you watched him lead her on stage and give her directions, much like how he did for you when you helped out.

you crossed a leg over the other and looked away.

satoru wasn’t your boyfriend, so it wasn’t like you could say anything or feel the way that you did… but then again, isn’t he kind of? you didn’t know, and the more you wracked your brain to try and figure out what exactly the both of you were, the angrier you got at the situation in front of you.

satoru flashed lina his world famous dazzling smile, cracked joke after joke and made her laugh, helped her when she went “confused” and helpless, and even showed her basic chords on his bass when she asked.

you pursed your lips, eyes narrowed. satoru was smiling at her the way he smiled at you and cracking jokes the way he joked with you, and your jealousy only grew as you let your mind wander if the way satoru treated you was actually anything significant if he was willing to do it for some random girl.

you sat there for what had felt like forever, people starting to pile in for the show as the alley opened, and you hopped off the stool bitterly to cool off in the restroom, not bothering to let satoru know.

just as you got in line, you felt a hand tug at your wrist.

“y/n!”

you turned around and spotted shoko, smiling until she took in your annoyed expression.

“what’s wrong?”

“lina,” you muttered.

“oh god,” shoko leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “what the fuck is she doing now?”

“satoru help me, satoru how many chords does a bass have? satoru you’re so good at singing! satoru you owe me after this!” you mimicked, your heart heavy as you let shoko lead you back to your table.

“she’s getting braver,” she muttered. “say the word y/n and i’ll fake trip and spill my drink on her it’s easy—”

you snorted, “no no, it’s okay shoko. if satoru wants to let himself be drooled over and do nothing about it in respects to me, he can be my guest.”

the show started, girls already screaming and running up the stage with, of course, lina front and center by satoru, jumping and wiggling her sick fingers up at him.

satoru was like he normally was at his shows— attentive to everyone and being just who he is, but what ticked you off more than usual was how much attention he was paying to lina, way more than the rest, and you couldn’t even watch the stage anymore when satoru reached down and held her hand for a moment, not once glancing up at you.

you were done.

“i think i’m gonna go!” you shouted to shoko over the music.

“what?!” shoko grabbed your arm. “don’t go! it’s almost over! i wanna see you chew him out!”

you laughed and shook your head. “i can’t stand being here, and he clearly doesn’t care whether i’m here or not right now so—”

more screams.

both of your heads snapped to the source.

lina was on stage with him.

you scoffed and grabbed your purse, ignoring shoko’s protests as you pushed your way through the crowd and away from the stage.

when satoru finally decided to scan for you through the pub, his eyebrows furrowed as he saw your seat empty and shoko glaring straight murderous daggers at him.

“where is she going?” he mouthed to shoko.

“home!” she spat loudly, getting up herself and disappearing through the crowd.

satoru’s eyes immediately widened, his fingers clammy and numb as he started to pluck the wrong notes, suguru giving him a weird look.

“carry the show without me,” satoru quickly told him, frantic. “please, i have to go.”

suguru nodded and waved him off, seeming like he knew why satoru’s skin was sickishly pale as he carried on calmly.

it wasn’t like you to just leave without him or not tell him anything, so as he threw the strap of his bass over his shoulders and handed it to a tech member, he hopped off stage and ran through the crowd, ignoring their pleas of protest or the tugging he felt at his clothes.

you were halfway down the parking lot when you heard the pub door slam open and footsteps running towards you.

“sweets!—” satoru yelled. “hey- where are you going?!”

“home!” you yelled over your shoulder, arms crossed as you kept walking.

satoru’s stomach dropped.

“y/n!” he caught up to you and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around as he tried to catch his breath. “why? are you okay?”

“just fine!” you spat. “why don’t you go back on stage and drool all over lina—”

“lina?” he gawked. “drool? what are you talking—”

you shrugged his hands off of your shoulders. “do you not see how she’s been all over you for what seems like fucking months?! and you just let her! i’ve been ignoring it but today you really pissed me off—”

you turned away again and he immediately grabbed your waist with his hands, pulling you back.

“hey- no. tell me what i did okay just tell me—”

you scoffed. “you really don’t see it? first of all she came to the alley two fucking hours early today, and then she’s all over you and you’re all over her and you’re smiling at her and making her laugh like you do with me, and then she’s playing the little damsel in distress helping you set up while i just sat there and watched—”

“all over her?” his eyes narrowed. “i couldn’t give less of a shit about lina—”

“apparently you do!” you moved away from him, his hands falling from your hips. “because she’s giving you the ‘i wanna fuck you eyes’ every two seconds, and you’re holding her hand while you’re on stage, and then you literally pulled her on?! what the fuck am i supposed to think with that?!”

“i didn’t pull her on she jumped on!” satoru exclaimed, his arms out. “i’m sorry sweets that i didn’t notice okay i really am, but have you stopped to think that maybe i didn’t notice because i don’t care about her? i—”

“satoru you’ve been completely ignoring me the minute she got here—”

“toru.” he cut you off, voice firm. “it’s toru not satoru.”

you stopped, frustrated and hurt tears slowing brimming your eyes as you looked at him. “maybe you being a little flirt for everyone was okay before, but the minute you decided to butter me up and kiss my cheeks and call me sweets, that should’ve been over.”

“it is!” he exclaimed. “it’s been over! it never even started in the first place!”

“yes it did! you think i haven’t been watching how you are with people since high school?— you know what i’m done. i’m leaving.”

you sniffled and spun around again, but satoru only grabbed your wrist tightly and wrung you back.

“you think i haven’t been watching you?! i’ve loved you since fucking high school god dammit! i’m obsessed with you! when we officially met at the alley and i introduced myself i already knew your name and you know that! i don’t give a single living fuck about lina or anyone else but you! it’s always been you!”

you wiped your tears roughly with your sleeve.

gojo satoru loved you.

“so no. you’re not done. please don’t cry. all i’ve ever wanted was you and i let you slip through my hands in high school because i was a coward, and id rather die than let you slip through my fucking hands again and lose you over a stupid fight when i just got you!—”

“you’re not losing me i’m not going anywhere toru where the hell are you getting that from?!” you exclaimed.

“thank fuck then, so what are we still doing?! i’d cut everyone in my life off if you asked me to!—”

“no don’t do that! i was just jealous okay and i’m— and i’m angry—”

“okay but do you love me?!” he pushed angrily.

“yes! of course i do you know that!”

“okay so do i baby so what the fuck are we still fighting for?!”

“i don’t know!”

“stop giving me your little attitude then and come kiss me!”

your lips instantly collided with his as you threw your arms around his neck, fast hurried kisses that knocked the wind out of you as you both hungrily and fiercely tried to swallow each other’s lips, satoru tapping the back of your thighs and signaling you to jump on him.

you immediately sprung up and wrapped your legs around his waist, him holding you tight as he carried you over to his car and leaned you against the backseat door, his lips messily licking and swiping over yours as he seemed drunk on the taste of your sweet spit alone.

satoru dug through his pockets without breaking from your lips and found his keys, unlocking his car with a tap of a button and gently lowering you inside, him scrambling in after you and slamming the door shut, locking it.

he towered over you as he latched his lips back on yours, you laying flat on your back with your legs spread, satoru’s big cold hands on the sides of your thighs as he slowly slid your tiny little denim skirt further up— right up until he felt your silky panties under his fingertips.

“i gotta—” he said in between kisses. “take them off—”

you nodded quickly. “please take them off—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish before he practically tore your panties down your legs and stuffed them in his back pocket, his breathing erratic.

“oh my goodness,” he spread your legs gently, eyes completely wide and glazed over as he looked at your slick and shiny pussy. “you’re so pretty baby, just like how i pictured you.”

he ran a finger down your slit and your hips jumped, your teeth biting down on your lower lip as you let out a symphony of whines that satoru wanted to record on his phone and play morning, noon, and night for himself and his dick.

he stared mesmerized at your fuzzy pink cheeks and swollen wet lips as he slowly rubbed over your clit, you immediately grabbing his unoccupied hand and sticking his middle finger in your mouth to suck in response.

“oh my god—” he threw his head back, his delicious adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.”

he felt you bob your head up and down slowly on his finger and his head snapped down, eyes widening as he watched you act like a little slut for him, his hands with a mind of their own as he inserted his unoccupied middle finger in your slurping hole.

you let out a muffled gasp through the digit in your mouth and you spread your legs wider, his long and mouthwatering finger pumping in and out of you slowly, satoru’s body literally shivering at the sounds of your warm squelching pussy.

“listen to her baby…” he hummed. “she’s so fucking loud for me… how embarrassing.”

“toruuu,” you whined at his teasing, clamping your legs shut as you felt the tip of his finger hit that sweet spot in your walls that made your toes curl.

“open your legs.” he demanded. “who said you could close them, hm? i sure fucking didn’t.”

satoru picked up the pace and slipped in his ring finger without warning, your walls stretching and filling up as he abused your little cunt rapidly.

“you ever squirted before baby?” he huffed out, lips eating up your neck as you shuddered, your body jolting up and down at how fast he was fingering you.

you shook your head dumbly. “n—no, i don’t think i can—”

satoru laughed and bit your neck meanly. “yes you can sweets, your little pussy was just waiting for me to do it.”

he went even faster, a series of slap slap slap’s filling the car as his palm and digits hit your cunt repeatedly, sticky and soppy as he moaned over and over in your ear, absolutely intoxicated with the sloshing noises of your pussy and the way it was speaking to him, satoru utterly and incandescently obsessed with everything that was you.

“m—my god—” he panted, his pace brutal and animalistic as his long fingers rapidly plunged into your gummy hot hole, his tongue licking and slopping all over the side of your neck, your moans straight up filthy as the windows of his car fogged up.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—” he dragged his mushy kisses from your neck up to your chin and back to your lips. “be my girlfriend—” slap slap slap— “p-please be my girlfriend be my girlfriend i need you so bad i c-can’t live without you anymore—”

you eagerly nodded, your thighs shaking as you gripped his shoulders and tried to keep up with his kisses that swallowed your lips up hole. “y-yes— mph! i will toru i will—”

his car shook violently as he fucked your cunt with his fingers without mercy, an unfamiliar intense feeling bubbling up at the pit of your stomach as he did so, your entire pussy pulsing and swollen as you squealed, massive droplets of liquid spraying all over satoru and the leather seats of his car.

“fuck yes baby, give me what i want that’s it—”

satoru groaned so loudly as you squirted, him jerking his nasty fingers to selfishly get more out of you.

“thaaaats it sweets—” he panted, slowing down. “that’s it.”

you evidently blacked out at this point, your brain misty and distorted as you tried to come down from your delirious high, a high you’ve never ever felt before with your own digits.

satoru licked his fingers raunchily and lowered his face to your pussy, cleaning up any remnants and left over drops on your thighs and pussy with his perverted tongue, your body jerking and you whining again as you shut your thighs closed in overstimulation.

he came back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before flashing you the biggest most innocent smile, as if he didn’t just absolutely destroy your cunt minutes ago without grace.

slowly, you regained a sense of direction and finally looked at him properly as he sat down and pulled you gently up by his arms, your body practically limp as he settled you on his lap and hugged you affectionately, his cheek squished up against your forehead.

“so can you squirt or what.” he teased softly, a smile still on his face.

you giggled shyly and buried your face in his neck. “i made a mess.”

“that’s literally what i wanted don’t even start.” he mumbled, and you laughed again, louder this time.

“were you serious about me being your girlfriend?” you asked suddenly, your voice smaller and timid. satoru pulled back and tilted his head, catching your eyes with his.

“of course i was,” he said quietly. “i literally begged you while my fingers were knuckle deep in—”

you covered your face with your hands and laughed with a whine. “stop! okay okay! i get it.”

you took your face away from his neck and looked at him properly, tilting your head cutely as your eyes shined and sparkled with affection, him giving you the same look back as you leaned up and pecked his lips lovingly.

“you know…” you began. “when we first properly met and you asked me out that night, shoko told me there was a line i had to stand in if i was interested in you.”

satoru snorted, his eyebrows raised. “a line?”

you nodded. “mhm. you literally can’t pretend there isn’t one toru… and lina is in it too,” you finished off, snickering.

he rolled his eyes and huffed, feigning annoyance, but when he looked at you again, he only smiled and stared at you like you hung the moon and stars yourself, a blush to his pale cheeks that never seemed to go away as long as you were around.

“line or not—” he sincerely spoke.

“you’ve always been the first one.”

[selfcarecap]

✧ Manipulative best friend!Logan with a corruption kink

warnings: smut 18+, this is not a dark fic, Logan isn’t truly manipulative but we have a very naive/innocent/inexperienced reader; first time masturbation, JOI, handjob, fingering (in front of a mirror), first kiss, pet names (bub, baby, my girl, good girl), Logan doesn’t always fully ask for consent but if he did reader would want it, so those are the type of vibes, Logan takes advantage of the situation but reader is into him too, it’s implied that reader is a mutant too but powers are not specified, mentions of alcohol, reader wears Logan’s (big) shirt, Logan is a bit gross 

This kind of got out of hand lmaoo it was just supposed to just be a short concept but I ended up writing 5.5k words lolll. It’s not a fully fleshed out fic (it’s in full sentences etc but still just kind of loosely written scenes) but I thought I’d still share <33 (gorgeous divider by @anitalenia <3)

Logan knows he wants you from the moment he meets you. He knows he needs you the second you come to the mansion and join the school. But you’re so shy and nervous that he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so he tells himself he’ll wait for a bit and let you get used to your new life here first. 

What he isn’t expecting is that you become really good friends in the meantime. Yes, he still wants to fuck you but he also genuinely enjoys your company and cares about you. Logan has a big, fat crush on you and there’s not really anything he won’t do in order to be closer to you.

But the problem is that you’re so innocent and he can’t tell if it’s an act, if you just don’t like talking about sex in front of other people, or if you’re really like this. 

He hears you talking to Storm and Jean one night and Storm is trying to convince you to get a vibrator and you’re asking “what would I need that for? I don’t… y’know”. Storm says “you don’t what? Masturbate?”.

Logan knows exactly what shy expression you’re making even though he can’t see you, and you’re all like “oh my god, don’t say it that loud”. And he knows your pretty face must be getting all hot with embarrassment and the thought alone turns Logan on to no end. It’s quiet for a bit and Logan gathers that Jean reads your mind, and she confirms to Storm that you’re not lying.  

Logan can only hear the conversation because he’s in the kitchen and you’re all in the room next to it, but some students come in so he can’t keep eavesdropping, as much as he wants to. And he knows there’s no way you’re continuing the conversation if he’s in the room, so he has to give up for the night. He tries to ask Storm the next day about what you said and she just calls him a pervert and says to ask you himself if he wants to know so badly. 

But that’s kind of the thing. He’s become your best friend over the last few months, but there are still some things you’d never tell him just because he’s a guy, even if you don’t see him as more than a friend. Yet.

And Logan only gets more desperate when you’re drunk one evening after a girl’s night and you’re knocking at his door. It’s really late but Logan lets you in of course. You’re crying a bit and he makes you sit in his bed and takes off your shoes and slides off your jacket while you hiccup something unintelligible. 

He sits down with you and you can barely focus on what you’re saying, and then you get up mumbling about your uncomfortable tights and your skirt and suddenly you’re in front of him in just a top and panties. Logan has to gulp down a moan as he stares at the flesh of your thighs and the rolls on your belly and all he can think about is devouring you whole – until he hears you mention the conversation with Storm and Jean from the other day, “wait, what was that?”

You pout, “Well I was talking to them and turns out apparently I’m the only woman in the world that doesn’t masturbate and– and Jean went home to Scott, and Storm went home with someone she met at the bar and I’ve never even done anything with a guy, not even with myself. I just feel left behind.”

And Logan tells you something about how you’re just a late bloomer and there’s still time, because that’s what he thinks you want to hear, but you tell him it’s condescending. You don’t want to be a late bloomer, you just want to have sex. And oh– Logan can help you with that.

He has to do his absolute best to keep calm and not mount you immediately, but you’re drunk so that’s what’s stopping him. He might manipulate you a little to get what he wants but he’s not that bad. He asks “you don’t like touching yourself?” And you just shrug and say “dunno”. 

“You never feel an ache between your legs?” Logan asks, keeping so calm it’s painful. And he can practically feel the heat melting off your face at the question as your eyes dart around the room, “I don’t know, sometimes”.

 “And you don’t touch yourself?”

You shrug again, looking everywhere but at Logan, “I never really know what people mean when they say that. I, like, touch myself and it feels nice but that’s it.” 

Logan smiles, “how long do you touch yourself for?” 

“I don’t know, a few seconds.”

And he chuckles and says “it’s normal that you don’t get anywhere in a few seconds, bub.” 

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” you manage to meet his eyes briefly but look away again as you sit on your hands shyly.

“You ever watched porn?” Logan asks and your eyes go wide as if he’s just committed the worst sin known to womankind in front of you and you hug your legs and say “noo, I would never. I’m not, like, a pervert.”

Logan laughs, “Porn isn’t just for perverts. There’s more to it than choking and bondage, there’s tame stuff.” You just say “well I’ve never watched any.” 

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” 

He can tell you’re getting a bit ashamed and while he would love to train that shame out of you when it comes to sex, now isn’t the time when you’re drunk in his bed at 2AM. 

“You wanna go to sleep?” He asks, failing to resist giving a small squeeze to your knee. Your eyes fly to his hand there, gaze lingering on his fingers even as he pulls them away. You nod after a few moments, and Logan reaches out to wipe away the remnants of your tears and says “you wanna sleep in my bed? We could cuddle”. 

You grin like a child who’s just tried ice cream for the first time at his suggestion and he gives you a bigger shirt of his so you don’t have to sleep in that small, tight top you’re wearing. You pull off your top without warning and then he’s looking at you in just your underwear and he feels like he’s died and ascended to heaven even though he’s probably more likely to go to hell with the thoughts he’s having about you right now. 

You cast a shy glance over your shoulder as you undo your bra and Logan wills himself to shut his eyes, putting his hand over them because he knows otherwise he’d look.

He only wants to fuck you more when he sees you in his shirt though, and he’ll definitely have to go to the bathroom to jerk off once you’ve fallen asleep. Except that you snuggle against his side so cutely, head resting on his shoulder with a leg thrown over his. 

You’re fast asleep before he can even say good night and when he moves to get up you move closer, and now he’s got your plush tits pressed up against his side and your arm over his waist. A tent has formed in his pants and he feels pathetic that he’s measuring the distance between your elbow and his crotch, silently willing you to move just a few inches. 

He’s so horny that he’d feel no moral qualms at jerking off right next to you. He’d cum so quickly with you pressed to his side, but he wouldn’t know how to explain it if you woke up. He doesn’t want to scare you away. So he pulls away to get up, and you wake up and whine when he stands up, telling you he just has to pee to which you grumble, and you grab his pillow to cuddle with instead. 

He jerks off shamelessly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His spit slicked-palm is starting to get loud as he strokes his cock to thoughts of you, but he doesn’t care if you hear. You probably wouldn’t know what he’s doing anyway with how innocent you are. 

He doesn’t even have to fantasise about any sexual scenario with you. Thinking about the pretty smile you have whenever you look at him is enough to have his fists drenched in his cum as he jerks himself off with both hands to stroke his entire length. 

He can’t hold back the small moan that spills over his lips when he cums, torn between hoping you heard and hoping you didn’t. Logan washes his hands and rejoins you in bed. 

He takes a moment before he slips under the covers, taking in the sight of you in his bed, imagining you’re his and that it’s the norm for you to sleep together rather than an exception. You stir as the mattress dips with his weight, swapping the pillow of his that was clutched between your arms for his bicep that you hold onto instead. You’re way too gone to have heard any of what he just did, and for a moment he feels dirty for thinking about you the way that he does. 

It doesn’t last long, of course, as he dreams of you most nights. He can’t feel bad about it though – he’ll take any dream over one of his nightmares (that he hasn’t had since he met you). And if he’s honest it turns him on how innocent and unsuspecting you are of what goes on in his head when he thinks of you. 

-

You wake up still wrapped around his body the next morning. You have a headache and Logan brings you something to soothe it, offering to massage your stiff neck too. You sigh in bliss as soon as Logan’s hands are on you, and he reminds himself that you must be touch-starved. You’ve never touched yourself, let alone felt the touch of another person that went beyond platonic or familial affection. 

He revels in the sounds he pulls from you with ease with the most basic massaging technique there is. He never wants to leave. He started off hovering over the back of your thighs, but he’s been making his way forwards and now his crotch is nestled right against the soft swell of your ass. You either don’t notice that he’s slowly moved or you don’t realise what exactly is pressing into your backside. 

It’s obvious that you’re enjoying his hands on the back of your neck and the top of your shoulders; he doubts there’s anything that could distract you from it. Except if he got hard maybe, but he’s got more self control since he jerked off in the bathroom again after waking up with morning wood and with you by his side, just before he brought you some painkillers. 

“You’re so good with your hands, Logan,” you tell him, voice all raspy, and he smirks at the innuendo you don’t realise you’re making. 

“It’s what my girl deserves,” he says, pulling a smile and a hum from your lips. 

“I’m your girl?” you ask shyly, eyes still closed as his knuckles drag over your skin. 

“O’course you are, bub.” He’s not sure in what way you interpret the pet name but he can tell you like it, hearing how your heartbeat speeds up just that little bit. You like being his, and he likes that. 

-

It’s during a particularly horny evening that Logan comes to your room. He’s jerked off twice today to pictures of you — pictures he’s snuck over the time he’s known you, you smiling as you laugh at a tv show, stretching on the sofa not realising that he’s got his phone out, or that one photo of you smiling all shyly on the day you first met him and he showed you around the mansion. Jean asked to take a picture to commemorate the day you joined them, and he remembers the way he slid his arm around the back of your waist and you placed your hand shyly on his back, smiling all adorably. 

He’s got a picture of you in a bikini from that one time you two went swimming but he keeps that for special occasions. Today was one of those special occasions, and he came all over his phone screen, cursing when he had to clean it afterwards; he even had to get the phone case off and all. 

But you still won’t leave his head for even just a second, so he decides it’s time for the next step. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you with anything, but he also just really wants you. Can’t help it. He’s a selfish man but any man would be if he knew you the way Logan did. He knocks at your door. “Yeah?” you call out. 

You grin when he steps in and closes the door behind himself. You stretch out your arms for a hug to greet him, even though you only saw him a few hours ago. He joins you where you’re sitting on your bed with your laptop. Logan turns the screen towards him, hoping to find something naughty but he should have known better. It’s just some video essay on a topic he’s never even heard of. He shuts the laptop. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” you tell him, genuinely focussed, “If I’m your girl then what are you to me? My boy sounds weird, and my man.. I don’t know.”

He almost forgot that he called you his girl to your face, and he smirks when he imagines you thinking about it these past few days. He lies down on his side, invading your space, almost touching you with how close he is next to you.

 “I can be anything you like, bub.” 

You shrug shyly, “Maybe you’re just my Logan.” 

He’s surprised at how much that turns him on. You being his, that’s one thing. But him being yours? Those two things go hand-in-hand, of course, but he thought you were still a long way off from liking him as much as he likes you. 

It encourages him to ask you what he’s been thinking about for days. He says it casually. “So, had any success touching yourself?” He uses that tame expression so that you’re less embarrassed.

Still, your eyes widen slightly and you immediately start playing with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean,” he smirks, “Don’t gotta be embarrassed around me. We’ve been over this.” Although, for a second he wonders if you even remember the conversation. You were drunk after all, and he considers feeling bad, but then you smile. 

“I know, but… I haven’t tried it since. I’ve thought about it but I still don’t know what to do.” He’s got you right where he wants. 

“Y’know, I don’t mind showing you. You deserve to feel good.” 

You look away, “What would you even show me? And how? Guys are different down there.” Oh, you’re so innocent. He’s having so much fun. 

“I could touch you.” He watches you experience a multitude of emotions as you think about it. Shame, intrigue, resolve. 

“Wouldn’t that be weird for you?” 

“Not at all, don’t worry about me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure, bub.” 

You look around you, putting your laptop and your phone on your nightstand, “What do I do?” you ask, playing with the blanket. 

“I’ll just touch you a bit, okay? Just get you used to the feeling,” he tells you, both of you sitting up and he pulls your legs around his waist, gently touching all over your inner thighs, squeezing the flesh.

You’re already arching your back, scooting closer to him, and he lifts your shirt up over your hip and sees the wet spot on your panties. He’s not sure if you notice how hard he is under his sweatpants but no one could blame him for that. You’re getting so worked up and he hasn’t even touched you anywhere near your pussy, you’re breathing so heavily and your heart is beating so fast.

“Y’want a kiss, bub?” Logan asks you all sweetly, and you lean in as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your lips on his are messy but eager, and Logan loves that he can feel that it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what you’re doing but you need it – need him. 

But he has to stop at some point because it’s getting harder to not fuck you, so he gently pulls away, and you grin shyly when the kiss is over. Logan leans in one more time for a quick kiss. He pushes you backwards a bit and looks between your spread thighs. You’re so wet. You’re squirming under his gaze.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at the waistband of your panties and your breathing gets shaky when his finger grazes your belly. You bite your lip and nod.

“Good girl,” he says, pulling your underwear down your thighs with one hand, eyes glued to your pussy. You’re so wet and sticky already, and your pussy looks even better than anything he’s imagined – and he’s imagined it a lot.

He wants nothing more than to fuck you, or eat you out at least, but he’s supposed to be showing you how to masturbate, so he lies down next to you.

“So, if you were alone, you might touch yourself like this.” He takes his hand between your thighs, softly touching your clit. You’re leaning into him, head against his shoulder as you watch his big hand between your thighs. It looks so right there. You look to your side and gaze up at Logan, and you can’t help but just kiss him again.

And while you’re kissing, Logan puts his palm on your pussy and starts rubbing you a bit rougher, and you become too distracted to keep kissing him.

“You like when I play with your clit?” he teases you and you nod, hiding your face in his neck. Logan moves down to fuck one of his fingers into you, then two, and you’re whimpering against his warm skin. With his palm still rubbing against your clit, you have your first ever orgasm with Logan and you hold onto him as the pleasure flows through your body.

He keeps going until you put your hand around his wrist to stop him and you shyly smile up at him. “Was that good, bub?” 

You answer with a weak “yeah”, your voice hoarse but you’re smiling and your skin is glowing. Logan pulls his hand away and shows you how your arousal sticks to his fingers, and your eyes search his because you’re not sure if this is a good or bad thing.

Your mouth opens when Logan takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks your taste off them. “Taste so fucking good, baby. You wanna taste yourself?” And he waits patiently until you’ve made your mind up but you nod and let him put one of his fingers into your warm, wet mouth. You suck on it for much longer than necessary and Logan tries to save the image in his brain for later.

He holds you for a bit as you comprehend that you’ve just had an orgasm for the first time in your life. You shyly thank him before he leaves and he makes you promise that you’ll try it again by yourself soon. That was the whole point of this, after all – nothing to do with Logan or anything.

-

Logan thought he’d be satisfied for a bit, but all it’s done is make him even needier for you. You’re so oblivious to all his flirting, and he’s sure you genuinely thought he just wanted to show you how to masturbate the other day. 

Of course, he could just ask you out, but it’s more fun this way. He likes watching you figure stuff out. He wonders how long it’ll take you to realise that he actually likes you, that teaching you how to jerk off maybe wasn’t only in your best interest but in his too.

He’s a bit pathetic when it comes to you at this point, though. As much as he’s teasing you, it’s also teasing him. It’s a bit of a low point, but he pretends to be in a bad mood to get your attention.

You come to his room in the late afternoon when you haven’t seen him all day, and you’re so kind and so caring and immediately worried when you see him sprawled in bed in his pyjamas that consist of grey sweatpants and a white shirt.

“You okay? What happened?” you close the door and sit on his bed immediately.

Logan fake sighs, suppressing a smile as he pouts exaggeratedly. “Nothing, bub. Don’t you worry about me.” He squeezes your knee to reassure you, and he watches you perk up at his touch.

“You know you can always talk to me,” you smile kindly, and he wants to kiss you so badly. He doesn’t usually talk about emotions and feelings all that much, but you’re always trying to get him to open up because it’s good for him, so he knows he’s got you with this.

“I’m just feeling a bit down today. That’s all. Don’t wanna bother you with my problems.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m always here for you.”

He watches you gnawing on your lip as you think about what to say next, and Logan waits curiously. “Have you uh, jerked off today? I think an orgasm would cheer anyone up, if it feels as good as you made me feel the other day.”

And Logan’s all like “I’ve tried but it’s been so long since a woman touched me, and my own hand just isn’t doing it for me anymore.”

He gets hard immediately when you perk up, smiling with your sweet expression and saying, “I could help you! I hate seeing you so sad”.

And Logan pretends, saying “no, bub, I’d never ask that of you,” but you sit up on your knees and say “I really wouldn’t mind! And I owe you for last time anyway.”

“If you’re really sure?” 

You nod sweetly and brush your hair out of your face and ask, “where do you want me?”

And even just you asking that is something that will stay in his mind for a long time. He feels like you’d do anything he asked of you right now and it’s already driving him crazy. He says “just next to me here, bub. Yeah there is fine”. 

You lean in to kiss him and he only pulls away out of surprise, and you’re blinking back at him with wide eyes, apologising, “It’s just cause you kissed me last time, I thought— I thought it’s part of–”

“Yeah, baby, it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me again.”

You give him a cheeky smile and nod, “of course I wanna kiss you. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you”. 

Logan grins and bites his lip and says “me too, bub”, and leans in and kisses you again, basically attacking you with his mouth. He can tell it’s getting a little much for you with the way he’s eating you alive so he stops himself and asks “was that too much?” 

You shake your head, “just don’t know how to kiss like that yet.” And he likes that. Yet. Maybe he can sneak in some kissing lessons at some point, just to show you how it’s done of course, no other reason. 

You look down at his lap then and it’s obvious how hard he is. “Y’wanna you touch it like this first?” he asks you, grabbing himself over his sweatpants, the outline becoming clearer.

And you nod so eagerly, but get a bit shy when you’re touching his cock, one of your knees pulled up to your chest as you palm him over his sweatpants. “It’s so big,” you marvel, oblivious to how much this is affecting Logan.

“You wanna see?”

You tell him yes and he pulls the waistband down, and you lean closer when he wraps a hand around his cock, stroking himself just a few times to relieve the pressure. 

You bring a finger to his mouth like he did for you the other day, and he chuckles, “that won’t be enough, bub”. Your cheeks burn when you say “oh”.

“Here,” he moves your hand so your open palm is facing him and he spits into it.

“Now do this,” Logan tells you, taking your hand and wrapping it around his cock, guiding you up and down with your spit-slicked palm. You watch in awe as you jerk him off, his hand never leaving the back of yours.

He could cum immediately like this, but he tries to savour the feeling a bit longer.

“Does it feel good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, doing so well, bub. Think you can do it by yourself?”

You shake your head with a smile. Yes, you could do it by yourself, but you like the feeling of him guiding you, setting the pace and intensity. He grins and continues, squeezing your hand tighter so that your grip on his cock tightens too.

Logan lets you jerk him off a bit longer before he gives in. He’s proud of you for not pulling away in surprise when he cums, coating your hand and his in his cum as ropes of white shoot over your skin and onto his shirt. He lets go of your hand to pull off his shirt and watches you examine your hand full of Logan’s cum.

“Can I taste it?” you ask in a quiet voice, and Logan just about gets hard again.

“Yeah,” he tells you, but pushes his own fingers into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his two fingers and suck the cum off, and Logan can’t help but push them further into your mouth, making you giggle. You pull his hand away after a bit, only to lick your own fingers. He uses the clean part of his shirt to dry your hand off after, and you lie down to cuddle him.

“Do you feel better?”

Logan chuckles, “Yeah, bub, I feel better. Thanks.”

“Good,” you grin, proud of yourself. Logan’s proud of you too.

-

It’s still the same day when you come to his room the next time. You left after a bit to go to sleep, but now there are knocks on Logan’s door that he recognises as yours before you say anything.

You enter his room in your pyjamas – a big shirt – and some fluffy socks, a plushie under your arm. You look so oh so innocent that he almost feels bad for corrupting you. You come in, close the door, and sit on his bed again, legs dangling off the side of it. He could really get used to you being in here.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, but you ignore him, hugging your plushie for comfort.

 “I… can you maybe…” you let out a sigh, “I tried to masturbate but I can’t do it by myself. Can you show me again?” 

Maybe you’re not so innocent anymore. He chuckles and tells you of course, and he’s starting to wonder if you’ve caught on to the game that he’s playing, and if you’ve joined him, but he’d still bet money that you really are this naive. Logan pulls his full length mirror in front of his bed, not too close, but close enough that you can see yourself in it. 

He moves to lift your shirt to get your panties off, and his heart skips a beat as he’s greeted by the sight of your bare pussy, already glistening.

“It was easier to come with them already off,” you say, and he reaaally has to restrain himself so he doesn't bend you over and take you right here.

You drop your stuffed toy to the side of Logan’s bed as he sits you in front of the mirror, getting behind you, putting his legs either side of you.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He can’t stop himself from saying it as he makes you look at yourself in the mirror, legs spread.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Logan,” you say, shying away from looking in the mirror.

“You can do it, bub. I got you, okay?”

You’ve turned around to look at him better, and he chuckles when he gets it.

“Is this what you need?” he asks as he leans in to kiss you, and you moan yes into his mouth. He loves you so fucking much.

His dick is already so hard and he’s not sure if you can feel it pressing into your ass, but either way you’re not complaining. He takes your chin to make you face yourself in the mirror, and he can’t get enough of seeing you two in it together – the way he’s sitting behind you like this, imagining other positions you two could be in.

“Here,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, even though you’re already wet enough, watching you suck on it eagerly. His finger stays in your mouth much longer than necessary.

He starts gently rubbing your clit in circles, and you squirm in his arms that are around you, one on your waist, the other between your legs.

“I did that too, but it feels better when you do it,” you mumble after a while, clearly enjoying it but unsure what you were doing wrong when you did it yourself.

“Try it.” Logan takes your hand, and makes you do it yourself. You’re squirming with him watching you like this, but it is useful to sit in front of the mirror, copying how he played with your pussy just moments ago.

Logan’s not blind to how wet you are, at having him watching and guiding you, and he can’t help it as he reaches into his boxers to jerk off. He doesn’t get his cock out but he’s not hiding it. You can see the movement of his arm in the mirror and you might even be able to feel it at your back, as Logan’s fist grazes your shirt every now and then as he strokes himself.

But you’re so focussed on looking between your own legs that Logan is genuinely not sure if you’ve noticed him jerking off, and the sounds of your wet pussy are louder than his hand on his cock.

“I… I can’t,” you whine after a bit, taking your hand away from your pussy, but Logan is close, and he wants you to cum too.

He keeps jerking off, and he sees you noticing it, sitting up a bit taller but you don’t seem to mind. You’re smiling, biting your lip.

“Yeah, you can, baby. Here, we’ll do it together.” He keeps a hand on his cock, reaching around you to put your hand back between your legs, and then he pushes two of his fingers into your pussy, fucking you with them.

“You close, bub? I’m close,” he says, and the idea of cumming together with Logan makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers, so you do your best to recreate the pattern on your clit that Logan showed you, rubbing it in circles until you get the right angle.

“Good girl, that’s it. So tight around my fingers. Come on now.” Logan’s so close he has no idea how he’s still holding off, sloppily jerking his cock with one hand and fucking your pussy with his fingers on the other hand.

You lean your head back, landing on Logan’s shoulder, as your orgasm pulses through you. Logan can feel your pussy spasming around him, and he lets go too, cumming over his hand and his boxers.

You’re both out of breath for a while after, barely moving.

“Y’did it, bub,” he kisses the top of your head, and you smile at him through the mirror, turning to press a messy kiss to the side of his face. He won’t take that though, so he grabs your face, smearing some of his cum on your cheek, and pulls you to face him for a proper kiss. You smile against his mouth as you make out.

You sleep in his room again that night, but he can’t say it feels like you know that he likes you yet. He’ll have fun watching you figure it out soon.

-

✧ reblog and let me know your thoughts for Logan to appear in your dreams tonight <3