#even as someone with a comparable home life/parent relationship

[donniefigurine]

star trek prodigy is the first star trek show ive ever watched and all i have to say is...um it sucks?? sorry i know it's super popular but i just dont like it like at ALL lol

[cilantroodon]

[ID: Four gifs of Jamie from Ted Lasso in black and white with text over them. The first two are Jamie having his cheek pinched by his mom, and him grabbing Roy's face, with the text "How much of my mother has my mother left in me? / How much of my love will be insane to some degree?" The second two are of his dad shadowboxing up to him before punching him, and Jamie shadowboxing Roy in Amsterdam, with the text "How much of my father am I destined to become? / Will it wash out in the water or is it always in the blood?" End ID.]

“could I change it if i wanted? can i rise above the flood?”

[nouearth]

let me in.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: peter struggles to balance between life and work, and it's ruining his relationship with you.

wc: 6.6k. genre: smut. warnings: andrew!peter, college au, established relationship, brief fighting, brief injury and blood mention (nosebleed), misunderstandings, peter reveals his identity, dry-humping, over the pants (or suit) handjob, body worshipping, lots of sweat, fingering, frotting, riding, spandex fetish, reader has a thing for peter in his spider-man suit!

You were starting to feel antsy. You could feel it—the nerves kicking in again. Anticipation—a suspension of doubt—made your hands clammy at first, but it was the time that made your hands clutch nothing but air. You rubbed the sweat off your hands onto your pants, your knees not so comforting with their pointedness.

Acceptance—when it was evident that Peter was late, again.

Birthdays have never been a big deal in your family. Sure, it was great that you had the privilege to live another year. To witness yourself grow older, to stand a few inches taller, to live a little more knowledgeable than yesterday. But growing up with parents who had to constantly work, well-late into the depths of night, it had never been more than a birthday wish that had greeted you in the mornings, and bid you slumber in the evenings. Since then, you knew not to expect anything.

If only Peter hadn’t made such a big deal out of it this year.

“Excuse me?” The familiar timbre of a voice speared your thoughts; deep and tunneling as you were transfixed on the glasses of water before you. Yours had been refilled, though a little sparse compared to Peter’s full cup.

Your eyes widened with feigned curiosity, a small smile plastered alongside to hopefully negate any annoyance from the waiter—because you expected what he was about to follow up with.

“Hey… uh,” he shifted on his feet awkwardly, eye bags weighing heavier than the last time he had checked up on you. You looked around, surprised by the amount of patrons who had filled the space around you while you were daydreaming. Laughter and smiles completely lit up the room. The dim lights were practically stationed in the restaurant for decoration, and seemingly to spotlight your ‘dinner for one’ status. “I’m sorry, but… we have no more tables to fill, and if you aren’t ordering soon, then we’ll have to give your table up for the next party...”

It was obvious that you weren’t, you hadn’t even torn into the buttery bread rolls that were piping hot forty-five minutes ago. Now, the fat had solidified into spotty, yellow clumps, though you doubt that would’ve been enough to detract from the quality of the rolls.

“Oh, I—“ You pulled out your phone to check your messages again. Nothing. Swiped down to refresh your conversation with Peter. The loading icon felt like it took forever, you half-expected that your phone was updating the thread with Peter’s messages that somehow got lost in the void of the restaurant’s spotty signal. 

And nothing.

“I—yeah… uh. I-I’ll head out.” It was embarrassing. Even if the waiter had given you a sympathetic smile, you hated knowing that you wasted his time. You hated that you selfishly occupied a seat when someone else would’ve been done with dinner by the time you exited. 

“Thanks—” 

You hated that you had your hopes up for things to be different.

Again.

The night was dreary. Not even the wind had greeted you like the others when you stepped out. Soft and fluttering against your skin, but scolding enough to make you put your coat back on. Luckily, your apartment wasn’t too far from the restaurant, a fifteen minute walk at most if you speed-walked. Shoving your hands in your coat pockets, you then ambled along the sidewalks, wallowing in your feelings with a playlist that belted in your ears once you plugged your earbuds in. 

You didn’t have the energy left to hurry home.

Once you crossed the last intersection, you felt a little bit more at ease. Seeing the familiar apartment complex at the end of the block picked your pace up a step more. You paused your music once you neared the entrance, just a turn away before you could finally bury yourself in your bed. 

You reached into your pocket to grab your wallet. The weight in your palms instantly reminding you to deposit the cash tips sometime soon before the stretch of the leather had become unbearable to fit in your pocket. 

Your walk slowed as your attention was fixated on your wallet, fumbling it open clumsily to retrieve your keycard. In midst, you caught a glimpse of a photo print of you and Peter, standing shoulder to shoulder with the biggest grins as Peter had a peace sign above your head, doubling as bunny ears. Honeymoon phase, they’d call it. Where you were beginning to discover more about Peter, and Peter was beginning to discover more about you. Likes. Dislikes. Hobbies. Memories. It felt like yesterday when you two were spending every second of your day with each other. 

Now, it would be a miracle if Peter returned a call.

With the keycard in your hand, you turned the corner, and towards the entrance, the smiles from the photo print reflecting onto yours as you could vividly hear Peter’s pleas to retake them again. The flash of the cameras always made him blink.

If only you had been focusing on where you were going instead of the still image of the first memory between you and Peter, maybe you could have avoided the collision altogether when you approached the door. You suddenly found yourself on your back, facing the night sky as clusters of stars twinkled in laughter. There was a slight throbbing to your forehead, a mark you’d reckon would appear as purple within the next 12 hours despite the painless… pain.

“Oh god�� I’m so, so, so, sorry! Let me—“ If the beating your face took to the door hadn’t snapped you back to reality already, the familiar face before you certainly pulled you out of your thoughts like whiplash once he helped you back onto your feet. Your vision instantly cleared of haze, as if his simple presence was your remedy.

“(M/N)?” Peter interrupted himself, his eyes widening. You could see the wheels turning in his head when the dim light spotlighted your features: eyes, nose, lips; flesh and bone that he was well-acquainted with.

“Peter—“ You took a moment to scan him. It was like all the other times he had been late. His fringe; stuck to his forehead with a mixture of sweat and water, the latter being a last resort to clean himself up. His knuckles; bruised and torn with minuscule cuts barely able to conceal the truth behind his scars. His necktie; clumsily done with the knots coming loose. Though, whether the silk unfurled by Peter’s own sloppiness, or by the increasing frailty of his fingers that had become susceptible by even the most delicate material of neckties; it was futile to mention it to him. You knew he’d shut you down with another excuse.

“W-what are you doing here? Are you okay? I-I’m so sorry—I was on my way to you and—Oh god, you’re bleeding!“ Breathless, panting, not only because he was panicking from running late. 

But because of adrenaline. You could see it in his eyes. The alertness. The high.

“What—“ You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, only to see a smear of blood blotted across your skin. “Shit.” 

Another thick drop splattered in greeting.

“Peter, it’s a nosebleed. You’re acting like I had my arm chopped off or something.” You’ve been applying pressure to your nasal bridge, pinching it tightly to barricade the stream of blood. All while you had your head tilted over Peter’s sink, in case of the blood leaking past your hold. “And how long does it take to find a cotton ball?”

“I’m trying—“ His one-sided game of hide and seek with the bag of cotton balls was leaning in favor of the latter. Medicine cabinet: empty. Bedside drawer: foreign coins and bills. You were watching him from the corner of your eye, a small limp to his step when the lightbulb seemingly lit up overhead and had him dashing towards the kitchen. 

“Found it!”

Peter’s touch was delicate. Tender, like the forming bruise on your forehead. He was adamant on taking care of you, even if frankly—you would’ve done it much faster had it been a solo endeavor. Cotton balls were plugged up into your nose, and a warm face towel was laid across your forehead. If an intruder had the audacity to rob Peter’s apartment, you’d imagine you would find yourself lucking out. Peter joked that you looked like patient zero.

“All done. See? Nothing to cry about.” He was joking again, the smug smile across his face a clear indication of it—and the laugh that he couldn’t help but contain.

“Ha. Ha. Thanks, Dr. Parker. Now, how much do I owe you? I’m paying outta pocket.” For a brief moment, you forgot that you were upset earlier. All because of how nice it was to actually see him again. He pressed a kiss to your lips, a comforting gesture if his constant apologies weren’t enough. Stay focus. 

“So, about dinner…”

“Oh,” Disappointment softened Peter’s smile. You could see it tightening, even as he was organizing his room. Though, it was really a matter of tossing his clothes on the floor back into the laundry basket. “Listen, my… bike got stolen and—“

“Peter…” You sighed, pinching your nose bridge because you feared another avalanche of a nosebleed incoming. That, and because it helped you maintained your composure. “You said that the last time. Three times, actually.”

“Third time’s… the charm?” He was joking. Again. But even he wasn’t laughing at it because he’d been cornered. Called out. Embarrassed that he thought that would even work on you. Embarrassed that he thought he could get away with it. 

Again.

“Peter.” You called out, straightening your posture against the headboard of the bed when he sat at the end of the mattress. Shit, it’s happening.

“I… I don’t know how to…” The veins in his hands, they lined perfectly to the cuts, scrapes, and bruises on his knuckles. Clear as day now that he wasn’t hidden under a dim light. “I just…”

He had his hands around his face, rubbing his temples, his cheeks, his nose, anything that could alleviate the accelerating drill of his heartbeat. 

You were hopeful to get an answer out of him. A proper explanation. But it pained you, knowing that in a few seconds—what he would tell you would only confirm your yearning suspicions of his strange behavior.

He doesn’t love you anymore. He’s cheating. You’ve become a nuisance, an absolute bore in his life. Actually, you’re a bad influence on him. You’re holding him back. He needs to let go of you to accomplish better things. He never loved you.

It’s happening. It’s fucking happening. All he has to do is say those words. The dreaded five words you’ve heard once from him in a nightmare.

I want to break up.

“If you want to break up, just say it.” 

It sounded softer in your head, but the tears that had welled in your eyes finally bursted into droplets. They ran down your cheeks, and your voice broke during its pursuit. 

Something commanded you to let those words slip out. 

Maybe it was the ghost that you and him had been theorizing about since the night you’ve helped him move into the apartment floor above you. Carrie; you nicknamed her, and Peter would scold you for doing so because he had the suspicions that giving her a backstory would ultimately reassess his home as a possessing ground. To this day, he swore he saw a shadow looming in the corner of his room on a perfectly stormy night.

Or maybe it was the months of frustration that you had accumulated, snowballed because of your own selfish reasons to continue being with Peter for as long as you could, even if you saw the signs, because you couldn’t bear to see yourself without him. Live, when you two had promised so many futures together.

“What? No, (M/N), that’s not—“ He jolted up at the mere mention of separating from you. There was a chill. The room suddenly felt colder, and then warmer—scorching hot, when the glossiness of your gaze reflected into his. He began joining you by your side. “Hey, hey, I would never—“

He broke into a cold sweat. He’d never seen you like this. And to think that he was the root of this—of your pain—it was all overwhelming.

“Peter, there’s always something going on with you. Y-you don’t text me for days. You ignore my calls. You disappear without telling me. You’re always late. And… you’re always hurt? And you think that I’m dumb enough to not notice that you aren’t? How you’re limping? How you’re always bruised and—For god’s sake, Peter, I’m just as smart as you, we have the same GPA and—“ You took a breather, a gulp because you were rambling now. Your cheeks felt hot, from your sudden outburst and from embarrassment, because the latter half of your rant immediately negated the idea of some kind of affair.

“Okay, maybe you aren’t cheating, but—“ You felt him tug you into his arms, but you wouldn’t budge. Instead, you pushed away, edging to the other side of the bed to face him.

“I would never.” He sighed, his arms dropping as soon as you removed yourself from his embrace. 

“Then what is it? You’re leaving me in the dark here. I barely see you anymore, you know that?”

“I know.” He was biting his lips. Chewing, as if he was internally debating something. A decision that could either ruin you, ruin him, or both.

“Then?”

You waited. Watched his fingers fiddle with one another as he continued turning the screws in his head. Your heart would jump whenever he would open his mouth, anticipating whatever had caused so much turmoil in his life, but there was a last minute decision that kept him silent.

Crickets.

Nothing.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re doing. But you’re getting hurt and I’m just… worried.” Your gaze dropped to his hands again. Pale, veiny, and full of life yet they’ve looked like they’ve been worn out. Torn. “At least tell me it’s not gambling.”

“Well—in a way with my life, it kind of is like gambling—“ He thinly smiled, hoping it would at least make you crack a smile.

“Peter!” You scoffed, nudged his side with your elbow out of frustration, then surrendered when you brought your knees up to your chest, and buried your head in between your knees. “Not funny.”

“Okay, okay, just… you can’t tell anyone.” His voice softened.

“We all know that between you and I, you’re the one with the running mouth.” Your voice muffled in the space between your legs, hands tucked around your nape.

“I’m serious, (M/N)” Pleading now, he held your hand in hopes to get ahold of your attention again, squeezing so you’d look at him. You do.

“I won’t tell.” It was a promise. Peter didn’t need you to clarify because he could see it in your eyes, honest and sincere. Determined, as if you were willing to protect him.

“Okay… and also, don’t… freak out.” Peter was off the bed now, wandering in the middle of his room as he rolled his shoulders back, relaxing the muscles in his back like a wrestler preparing for his next fight. He gestured for you to follow him out to the stairway, out into the cold. 

“Why would I freak—“ There was something around his wrist. No, wrists. You thought they were watches, but there were two devices around him. They were strapped with a similar black leather to your wallet, to Peter’s, and a red button protruded in the middle of it. “Peter, what are you—“

You stopped a few feet before Peter, watching him closely, yet afar. Afraid, yet intrigued. Concerned, because he was on the ledge of the staircase now, perched like an animal. Yet there was a grin on his face. Not crazed like a madman considering he was acting like one, but foolish. Goofy, giddy like the times he’d hide stuff from you, and wait until you’d notice it was gone.

“Like I said, don’t freak out.” 

“Peter, what are you even—“

With that, he opened his arms like wings that spanned across his back and flipped into the air as if the wind would carry him across city to city. As if he was recruited as a sponsor to the heavenly gods with the incredible height he’d taken off in, pursuing the clouds, the wind, the stars, and the night simultaneously all in multiple slings.

Into. The. Air.

Into the fucking air.

You raced forward with a yelp, as if you would’ve made it in time to catch him. To catch his hand before he fell. To hold him one last time before he’d land on the ground and shatter every bone in his body.

If he had landed. 

No, you blinked once—twice—no, at least in the double digits because this was all a dream. It was all a dream, right? That you caught a glimpse of Peter somehow slingshotting himself from window to window, from rooftop to satellite, like it was a mundane day job one had to endure to put food on the table, to pay the bills.

Right?

You paced around the stairs, raced towards one floor to another, bending over the railings because—Peter disappeared. He was gone. If he had smashed into something, you would’ve heard him. You would’ve heard him in yelp in pain. You would’ve heard the metal railings shake. You would’ve heard him cry for help. 

Instead, you heard the sound of wind. Whistling as it sailed leaves to the west of you. 

As if it carried a hint along the way.

“Peter?! Peter—Fuck, fuck!” You followed the sound of the whistle. The source of the pitchy sound. Fluttering when your head spun closer to the note, wavering when you were getting colder, then peaking when your gaze lifted, higher, and higher, until it landed on him.

Peter.

Peter, perched over the rooftop of the apartment complex like a bug. The moonlight framed his silhouette, emphasized the texture of his suit; protruding grids that encased him like a nest; and you’ve never been more intimidated. 

Red and blue spandex tightly-fitted over the muscles and body of the man you have been more than well-acquainted with. You’ve seen it before. It was familiar. On the news, on the papers, on the internet.

“You’re freaking out!” He yelled out, clearly amused in your frozen state of shock.

He peered over at you with a smug grin, aimed directly at your bafflement before pulling a mask over his head. It was the icing on top in rendering you utterly incapable of stringing up any words. The lens of his mask reflected off of you, mirrored your astonishment in clear display, and you sensed that would be a memory Peter would be carrying to his death bed.

“What. The. Fuck.”

“Okay, so, just to clarify,” You were winded, still recovering from the heart attack Peter had nearly given you after he took you on for a stroll in the night. Into the sky.

Luckily his bed was right beside you. As soon as your legs gave out, you fell back into his mattress, and stared into the ceiling, speechless. Peter joined you after, bringing you into his arms. He’d always been aware that touching you in any way or form brought you back to reality. “You are… not a cosplayer?”

“Honestly? That would make me way more money than what I’m making right now.” You couldn’t keep your hands or eyes off of him. Peter was still in his suit, and that gave you the perfect opportunity to run your hands over the webbed texture of the spandex.

“Just a few more months until my lease is up. I can move in, and that’ll help with the rent. For both of us.” It felt like silicone, or rubber. Whatever it was, it was durable considering how thin it felt in your fingers when you rubbed it in between them.

“Just like that? You’re not mad?” Your hands came to a halt when Peter suddenly took them, and rested your palm on his cheek, coincidentally on the cut that you’ve never noticed. 

“Why would I be mad?” Quieter. Your voice mellowed into a whisper as you catalogued the amount of beatings his skin had taken. Caressed the marks you were too selfish to notice. Exhaustion wore on his face, and yet he never looked so peaceful as he gazed into your eyes. 

Pretty eyes, Peter thought. Ones that could motivate him to get back up after falling. That feels nice, when you pressed a kiss to his damaged skin. A touch that made him believe there was a reason to suffer, to be great, to be all of this.

“Well, for starters, it’s your birthday and… I completely blew it.” Peter closed his eyes when you began brushing his hair back, knotted in cold sweats, but you fanned your fingers out to undo them until they felt somewhat tidy in your strokes. Smooth and soft. He sighed, “Again.”

“Can’t entirely blame you. How would I look if I were to complain about missing you, when you’re out there risking your life for everyone?” It wasn’t a question, but you wanted him to look at you. To respond. And he does, when you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he returned it with a silken one, a following grin. “All I wish for was that you told me sooner, I guess.”

“Yeah,” He figured he’d save the details of the ‘friends’ he had made along the way some other time. For now, it was all about you. “Wow, you’re not even going to wish for me to be safe?”

“Hey, you know what I mean! That’s a given.” You rubbed at his chest, finding yourself quickly accustomed to the scales of his costume. The red was striking against your palms, comforting almost. 

“Still. I want to hear you say it.” Peter rolled onto his side and slipped an arm under your back, scooting closer to you. His signature goofy grin never failed to knock a similar one out of you. And unwillingly drawn out, when he began pinching at your sides in quick snips.

“Stop—“ You laughed, your hands occupying themselves to defend your body from his quick attacks. But Peter was fast, avoiding your arms and hands to find another opening that you’d abandon. “Stop, stop! Stay safe! Happy?!”

Closer and closer, you found yourself beneath him, framed by his body as he took your arms above your head and pinned them secured with his tight grasps.“Incredibly.”

Your legs spread open to make room for his body, only for Peter to wrap them around his waist, to press his body into you, kissing you like he was driven to steal your breath.

“This your way of making it up to me?” You broke apart from the kiss, only briefly, before the taste of Peter, the softness of his lips reeled you back in for another kiss. Languidly paced until one’s accelerating lust for one another had taken ahold of the wheel and shifted gears, into a weightiness that kept your mouth parted open while Peter’s impulse to explore you had become evidently clear.

“Problem with that?” He’d been driving his hips into you, grinding his front with your own. Both clothed, infuriatingly covered, but the pressure in between your bulge and Peter’s was too pleasing to ignore. Too satisfying to make him stop. “I should take this off—“

“No, wait—“ You grabbed his forearm when he reached back to unzip his suit. To be honest, you never thought about how he even got in or out of the suit in the first place, but that was beside the point. Something about this suit, this costume, whatever you wanted to call it; it was a turn-on. 

The way it fit snug against Peter’s body; how every fiber of muscle was stretching the material to its limit. Maybe you were just turned on because you associated it with him being a hero. For god’s sake, that was as much of an aphrodisiac one could be if you happened to be saved from a falling tower. 

Or maybe, it was simply how Peter looked in it. Unabashedly handsome, yet himself, seemingly courting you further into his webs, as if he hadn’t already from day one.

“Keep it on. I like it.” You muttered, fiddling with the collar of his suit. It was snapped on tight, but you managed to slip a finger or two past, to pull at it with a stretch.

“Then how are we going to…” He abandoned the few inches he had unzipped, providing a small relief to the squeeze around his body while his broad back was bare and tense towards the ceiling. 

“Then, you’ll take it off. But for now, I just want to…” One hand was on his nape, pulling him down for another heated kiss, while the other traveled south between your body and his. Further, lower, until you cupped him at his crotch. Rubbing, squeezing, and palming at the thick, growing center. “Want to try something…”

You could feel him smiling, a crooked one flattened against your own grin when he whispered, “I should’ve told you sooner, shouldn’t I.”

“You think?”

You were getting harder, your pants beginning to tighten around the center as you palmed him. It was a heavy handful in the beginning, but Peter’s bulge began to unfurl. It didn’t take long, didn’t take much of a stroke for him to unravel from his tuck and thicken into a full-blown erection towards the left side of his thigh. It pointed downwards, the plump head evident through his suit, and you were beginning to drool in Peter’s mouth at the haziest image of it.

“Come on, I need to get out of this… It’s killing me.” It wasn’t like Peter to beg. It was charming, cute, sexy, all the synonyms that could describe how you felt all day and every day about him, and you squeezed, because he wasn’t being patient with you.

“Birthday boy gets what he wants, don’t you think?” He winched into your mouth, and you swallowed him. Swallowed every ounce of breath, and breathed it back out with a kiss. Sloppy, heavy, your tongue weighing on his because you wanted to keep his lips apart, mouth open to hear his moans.

Peter grunted again once you began stroking his cock, touching him like it was a delicate plate of chin. Fingertips only, dusting him off with little pressure so he wouldn’t shatter.

“What are you going to do about it, hm?” You continued your short, limp strokes. “Just going to take it? Hm?” Your wrist was weak, lazy as it became limp to tease him even more. Peter sucked in a breath, doing his best to maintain his composure, but it was all futile, all those attempts of sucking in his lip to chew, to hold back his moans, because you’d slap his clothed cock, grasp it tight in your hand, and massage as much as you could gather.

“Fuck, baby—“ You had him under your control. Even if his hands were free, you knew he wouldn’t lay a finger on you. He knew that if he did, you’d stop touching him, stop stimulating the blood running down every vein of his cock, fueling his erection. His desires. 

He couldn’t let that happen. Not after the day, the week, the months that he’d been having. 

You and Peter eventually switched places: Peter resting on his back while you sat in between his legs, marveling at the stretch of his suit. Somehow, his cock looked bigger than you’d remember. Squished and pressed flush against his thigh like this. The suit was like a magnet, inviting your hand back to his cock and refusing to let you go.

“Just relax.” You commanded him. He was watching you slouched up against the headboard, gravity weighing his eyelids lower. With his legs spread apart, he provided you excess space as you began massaging his right thigh with your free hand. “Is this okay?”

“Mm-hm...” He knew you were talking about the pressure on his thigh, but the strokes over his cock remained supreme in his mind. Championed through as you pressed harder into the shaft, massaging tenderly from vein to vein. The protruding webbed texture of his suit pressed into him, rolled against cock like the inside of a fleshlight, ultimately adding onto the already gratifying pleasure. 

It was glorious.

“More…” Peter gritted through his teeth, a selfish need for more escaping from his lips in huffs. Grunts, when you’d fulfill his wish with two hands now, kneading his cock like dough. 

Thick, stiff, throbbing dough.

Before the complaints could come pouring in, you shimmied your pants off in a hurry, tossing it in the corner before greedily climbing onto Peter’s lap. It was like he read your mind, perhaps another secret that he’d been hiding, because he immediately took you into his arms. An embrace, a tight one that grounded you against his bulge, pressing your body weight until it restricted the blood flowing into his erection, as well as preventing an escape.

“You’re so hard…” You marveled at how rigid he’d gotten under you, grinding your ass against the large mass, beating and throbbing with every rut.

“I’m so hard.” He confirmed, complained, and bragged all in one smile. He then took you by the nape to kiss you again. Hard on the mouth, slow with his tongue to taste you and your desires, his desires. His other hand rested on the small of your back, guiding your grinds at first before his fingers looped into your waistband, tugging once before stuffing the strap under your ass cheeks. Your hard-on was the only thing keeping the cotton material from slipping off while you continued grating your hips. “Just like that…”

To make it easier for you, Peter repositioned his erection so it was facing north, towards his navel, in its sublime mass. Your briefs had been tossed to the side now, completely bare bottomed against him while you mounted over him, and rode in needy strides. It was a sight to behold, something that Peter reckoned he should savor. He folded his arms behind his head, providing a self-made cushion for the weight of it, and watched you. It was entrancing, like a dance. You swiveled your hips to a ghosting rhythm, one that could only be heard between two hearts, two parties, between the two of you, man to man.

“Like this…?” Breathless, you unbuttoned your shirt open, but left it present on your body. Sweat formed over your neck, dribbled down to your bare and exposed chest;  it was practically an open-invitation for Peter to ravish you. And so he did, with a haunting groan as he held you, contained you in the warmth of his arms as he simultaneously pulled you forward, and pushed himself off the headboard to meet you in the middle.

He kissed you on the neck, achingly hard when he sucked, and then enthralling, sweat-inducing when he bit into your skin. He couldn’t contain himself. You tasted too good, and it’d been too long since he had you just like this. “Just like that. Your cock against my cock, fuck. I love it so fucking much.” He muttered hot against your neck, panting because he was sweating too. The spandex felt tighter on his skin, constricting against him with every drop of sweat.

“Oh, fuck…” His lips had latched onto your nipples now. Peter’s tongue worked magic on your two nubs, flicking and swirling over their perkiness until you felt swollen. Raw, when he bit, pulled, bit, and bit again. You buried your face into his hair, rocking yourself back and forth with your arms holding him close to your chest, gliding your cock against his print as if a gun was pointed to your head, like your life depended on making Peter come.

You were delirious, humping Peter without a single thought other than to get him off, and you’d reckon that was the goal lingering in Peter’s head as he began rocking back into you. It took a while for him to find your rhythm, chasing after it in slower, sluggish beats, but eventually he caught up to you, snapping his hips against your own, grinding his cock against yours like two crescent moons caressing the other’s curvature.

“Close…” He muttered into your shoulder. Your shirt was hanging off, exposing more of your skin, but Peter made sure you didn’t feel a single chill with the marks he had followed up with soon after. It was like he had done it on purpose. Made you feel safe in his arms, comfortable in the warmth of his body, worshiped with the amount of care he had given your body. Frozen, when you felt something prod at your pucker. Then enraptured, when Peter pushed a wet finger inside of you. 

Tremors, chilling tremors ran down your spine as you took the single digit Inside of you with one determined push. “Fuck—“ Your back arched, chest pushed forward towards him, and your hips jolted forward in one strong, and delicious swipe against Peter’s cock. “Peter…”

It was a mouthwatering display of food before him. The perky nubs on your chest, the veins in your neck, the mole on your body, the strain of your thighs on overdrive, the swollen head of your cock; Peter didn’t know what to lay his finger on first, what to mouth on, what to kiss, and suck, and latch onto until you’d scream. Whichever it was, he knew you were desperate for him. Begging, sweating, whimpering, for Peter to lay a finger on you. Another finger inside of you now, and you rolled your eyes at the stretch he was providing you with, a fulfilling wish that startled your hips once more.

“You’re so good, so good for me…” Peter was staring up at you, marveling at the layer of sweat on your body. It glistened with every movement, dripped heavily with every thrust of Peter’s fingers, and tasted just like how he remembered. Salty when he licked up your neck, up your chest, against your nipples, and repeated. Your body was his, and Peter was determined to let the world know. Determined to remind you in case that you’d forgotten.

Your hands were wandering. Grabbing and touching at anything and everything that could linger in between your fingers. Peter’s hair, his head, shoulders, chest, your cock and his, his back. Everything. You couldn’t keep your hands off of him. Even if he was covered from head to toe, you were touching him. Because he was yours.

“Gonna come—“ You cupped Peter’s jaw to straighten his posture, to kiss him sloppily on the mouth, and he pulled his fingers out of you, resting them on either side of your hips as he joined you once again in grinding hips. The pleasure was overbearing, drilling into each individual brain until the smallest movement would render you both speechless. Panting in slurred moans of each other’s names, of profanities that you two had rarely used in your lifetime on earth.

“Me too…” Peter pushed himself on top of you now. Your arms were tied around his neck, tighter than the necktie he had on prior, and your legs; they wrapped around his waist equally secured, if not even tighter, as he thrusted against you. 

You were too distracted, unable to respond to Peter’s constant licks in your mouth. He was desperate for you, suckling on your tongue and chasing after it once it slipped out because of your moans. They were rattling, each breath immediately vaulted in the back of Peter’s throat because he couldn’t part from you. Couldn’t imagine a life where he would. And if he had to, at least he’d have a part of you inside of him. Even if it was a whisper. 

He thrusted harder, panting into your mouth, his nose practically smushed flat against yours. He wondered if you could imagine that life, a life without him.

“P-Pete—Shit, I’m—“ Your fingers dug into his nape, grounding him impossibly closer to you when that feeling had suddenly come to stun you in place. 

It simmered hard in your stomach, then to a rolling boil as it traveled lower to your pelvis. You squeezed your stomach, clenched your toes, and your eyes widened when Peter’s hips showed no signs of faltering. Your cock swelled and your balls jolted, tightened, until you finally saw stars bursting into flames and let gravity have it come crashing down on you. Shivers had you enclose your arms around Peter, holding onto him tight as you felt yourself crumble and spill all over your chest and his suit. You came with a gritted grunt of his name, sinking your nails into his nape because you had nowhere else to channel your spasms as Peter kept rocking against you, drunkenly astonished by how you came for him. By how much you needed him.

It didn’t take long before Peter came right after. He buried his head into your neck, stifling moans into the heat of your neck, clammy with sweat, yet comforting as he filled the inside of his suit with thick, large loads. You felt his cock throb against you when you reached down to help, to ride out his orgasm to the fullest. His cock pulsed as you’d imagine several thick pumps of his load would gush out and uncomfortably layer his navel. If only his suit hadn’t been waterproof, because there was no doubt that he would’ve been leaking out of it by now.

You’ve never been so jealous of spandex.

He was hot in your ear, panting, breathing you in, then breathing you out as you slowed the strokes on his softening cock. Then a sudden inhale, a jolt of his body, when you squeezed hard, to seal the deal in covering the entirety of his cock in his own cum. It was filthy. It was shameless. It was Peter.

“Driving me crazy here…” Peter sluggishly lifted himself off of you to face you, a sleepy smile plastered across his face as you kept kneading at his cock, increasingly sensitive with every second.

“Not enough to drive you away, right?” You smiled, drowsy yourself as you quickly found your high coming to a crash. Though, you mustered enough strength to hold Peter’s cheek in your palm, tenderly caressing, to which he immediately kissed as soon as it reintroduced itself. 

Peter sighed, holding your gaze for what felt like minutes, and yet you wished it could be for longer. 

It was different this time, the way he looked at you. The same amount of love and warmth, yes. But they no longer wavered, no longer tried to find something else to look at in case you were prying about. 

“Never.” 

Instead, they stilled, relaxed the longer you stared into him, into those brown eyes of his, because you were in now. 

You were finally in his life.

How much you needed him?  His question had been answered.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[rotagnus]

what does this person think of you? --<3

this is an intuitive reading, if it does not speak to you do not take it to heart. i will be blunt so don't expect butterflies and unicorns. this is asking about someone who at least knows about your existence...so no f/s, no celebrity. can be romantic or platonic. blurbs because i made six piles...maybe i'll add on later or do a pt. 2. feedback is appreciated but not required. enjoy, babies 💋

i've been a bit busy with personal life and senior year, but when spring break rolls around i'll make more pacs and in between then as well. <3

this person thinks that you're very fawn-like. you're bubbly and you know how to be the center of attention, which can bug you sometimes--this person thinks you revel in it, though. compared to you, they may be less popular--nerdier, unseen, and they admire the way you can command people at your will. they may be meek and have had some issues in their life that have caused them to be on the more quiet side. they're a very calm person though, and they appreciate that you're more different than them. they think you're warm, and although you're a bit too bright at times, they love your spark. i think you're asking about someone on your level, around your age. if this is a romantic connection, i think there's some potential, although this person may not be ready for this. you are much more spiritually advanced than them. song: easy lovers by piero piccioni. animal: mourning dove. place: coastlines.

this person can probably be seen as a bit rude/cold at first. i'm thinking of sea storms, brick walls incase that may be significant. you're probably out of high school, in the real world. this may be a coworker or college friend you're asking about. anyways, i think they think that you're pretty neat. you probably have similar interests--if you haven't spoken to them, you really should. this can be a very good friendship. they may like sports or have varying hobbies than you (not interests necessarily). you're more on the artistic, musical side. they think that you're very talented, but that you show this side to other people rarely. you have this summery aura around you. you feel like home. but they, also, have a very widespread social circle and they think very positively about other people. they're probably more talkative than you are. song: champagne coast by blood orange. animal: tiger. place: islands.

this person may resent you a little bit for some reason. i'm thinking of birds. i think you embody some quality that they wish to have, and the fact that it seems like you exhibit this so easily makes them upset. you're a very lucky person and life gives you whatever you want on a silver platter--they do not know that you've worked for everything that you currently have. you may be flighty, which can be both positive or negative, and it pisses them off because they stay in one spot all of the time. you're not attached to things as much as they are, and it makes them furious at how fast you can move on from things. you probably smile a lot and they get upset with that--this can be an ex, someone who didn't make the first move, even a parent with whom your relationship has grown sour. i think that this connection is probably better off not existing. song: angel by massive attack. animal: snake. place: inland.

they think a lot of you contrasts other parts of you. you may be a feminine man or a masculine woman, or exhibit qualities that aren't expected of you, like being a girl and having short hair or having a job in a more male-dominated field, f.e. you're a fiery person--i wouldn't say outright bubbly like pile 1, because you do have your silent moments, but when you do speak you fill your words with passion. you're a very powerful person and they don't know what to make of you. you're a bit intimidating so if you're hoping they'll approach you, you may have to make the first move 😂. but if you've spoken with them already, this person likes you and adores you. you're their little punk and they think that you're pretty darn cool. they're probably alternative, or they also defy norms. that's why they think you're pretty nice. they're a genuine person, although they may be a bit blunt sometimes. song: elskling by elusin. animal: dolphin. place: cities.

i think this person thinks you're very beautiful. note that this doesn't mean they are necessarily attracted to you, but for a lot of you, they are. you have very well-defined features, and you don't try to cover them up, even though some of you do struggle with self image. they think you're not only absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, but you're wise. you're soft but you know how to punch too, but you choose to be at peace. i don't really think this person is in a position to know a lot about you, as of now...i would be 50/50 about talking to them seriously if you haven't already. this person does have the ability to form meaningful connections with people, but for some of you they're lustful and very material-based. song: agora hills. animal: cat. place: luxurious/well cared for.

ahhh my final pile! hi darling. this seems like someone you've fell out with, or you have had a rocky relationship. i think you're tired, or sad now--maybe you have seasonal depression. i feel like you're carrying a big weight on your shoulders, and this person has noticed that too. they think of you as very honorable. you have a strong-set of morals that they admire, and they like how you're loyal to things despite sometimes it being to a fault. they think that you're a very honest person--unrelated but some of you may have an accent or an interesting way of speaking. you have a good heart, and because of this you have an amalgamation of many different people in your social circle, since you're non-judgmental. the person thinks that this is bad, because they're really judgy themselves. they're also probably insecure. i think you need to stop caring about what this person thinks and instead go treat yourself. after you've helped yourself out of this sludge, you'll learn that you don't really care for what they think--this doesn't mean that they don't matter, no, but it means that they're not the focal point of your life and that the beautiful energy surrounding you should be devoted to other things, not just them. song: total eclipse of the heart by bonnie tyler. animal: dog. place: southern.

[kamisatomay018]

I’ll Always Stand Up For You

Zayne x fem!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst with lots of comfort and love, him being protective over reader. Reader is not MC. Mentions of childhood trauma and toxic parents and family members.

Plot: you take him to meet your family after the two of you got engaged, upon his insistence. What he never knew was just how bad the situation at your home truly was. But one thing is clear: he will not sit quietly and listen.

The day Zayne proposed was the happiest day of your life. He was everything you could’ve ever asked for. He made you the happiest woman alive, and taking this next big step with him felt so right.

Even though his parents were always travelling around in the most perilous locations in the world, upon hearing of the news of your engagement, they immediately came to linkon, absolutely overjoyed for you both. Zayne was ecstatic to see his parents again; and your time with them was filled with laughter and nostalgic conversations of when the two of you were young.

Being with his parents seemed to heal a deeply wounded side of you, one that had never known the comfort of parental love and warmth. Zayne knew that your relationship with your parents was…strained, to put it lightly. And so seeing you bond with his parents, laugh and converse with them warmed his heart.

But then came the dreaded moment you had been praying earnestly to avoid: Zayne requesting to pay your parents a visit. He had been very patient and understanding, reinforcing the fact that he would never force you to go if you truly did not wish to see them again. But being the traditional man he was, he wanted your parents to know that their daughter was getting married. He didn’t care if they gave their blessings or not, he simply wanted his conscience to be clear.

You had been very hesitant about the matter, as it had been years since you had left your parents’ house. Each day you had spent living with them was pure agony: they seemed to hate you for simply existing. All your life, you tried to do everything you could to make them proud, to make them happy and become worthy of their affection. But you couldn’t even come close. They would always compare you to your older sister, reminding you that you would never be able to live upto her legacy.

Each word they had spoken haunted you well into your adulthood. You grew up to become a perfectionist, deeply insecure of your own abilities and deathly afraid of failure, of not being good enough. Zayne was the only person who had been able to help you through it, even though many a times he didn’t even realise that his quiet and gentle assurance was healing something he had never broken.

He had been your pillar, always supporting you and believing in you. He had loved you when you felt undeserving of it, he had cradled you through failure and cheered you through success. He was your everything.

Which is why you decided to agree to his request. Even though Zayne knew of your difficult relationship with your family, he never fully knew just till what extent it used to go to, because you had been too traumatised to speak of it, and he never pressurised you. He instead focused on making every day you spent with him the happiest day you could possibly imagine.

So here you were, sitting beside Zayne in front of your parents, staring blankly at your plate of food. To say that your parents had been baffled hearing of your engagement was an understatement. After all, they never thought someone would want to marry you. And the moment they saw Zayne, the epitome of perfection in a man walk in, they were certain you had either threatened him, or manipulated him into marrying you.

The conversations between Zayne and your parents had been…Stressful. The way they spoke so condescendingly of you while covering it up with mock laughter baffled him. But he wanted to be a respectful gentleman, so he would refute their every nonsensical claim with high praise of you. He boasted proudly of your achievements in linkon, of your success. But to his utter astonishment, they never seemed to care, only talking endlessly about their older daughter. What was wrong with these people?

He regretted asking you to come here so much. Seeing how quiet and dejected you had gotten only pained him further. So he would hold your hand, squeezing it softly as if he was apologetic, which he truly was. You only gave him a soft smile in response, not wanting him to feel guilty.

For a while everything was quiet as lunch was served. But of course, your parents had to stir up trouble.

“So Zayne, does this girl cook for you or not? When she was here, she would barely get out of her room. I hope she’s not that lazy anymore?” Your mom said, once again covering up the insult aimed at you with laughter. You stopped chewing immediately, feeling sick to your stomach. God, when would this end.

Zayne’s patience was running thin now. Respect be damned, he would not stand this behaviour anymore. He looked at your mother with cold eyes. “Ma’am, I asked her to be my wife, not my servant. As a doctor and her fiance, I generally like to prepare healthy meals for the both of us daily because she works very hard. And at night, we cook together.”

Your mother scoffed at that, glaring at you. “How could you make your fiance cook for you huh!? He’s a doctor, a renowned one at that! Do you think you work so hard? God knows how you managed to seduce such a perfect man, and now you don’t even treat him properly!? Your sister deserves him, not you!”

Tears filled your eyes as you felt the wounds from your childhood reopen. You looked down, breathing shakily. That didn’t last long though as Zayne stood up abruptly, his eyes glaring daggers at your parents. His evol caused the temperature in the room to drop, signalling just how angry he had gotten.

“Enough is enough. How dare you insult my fiance like this? All evening I have watched you tear her down, insult her and disregard her achievements. And now you have the audacity to raise your voice at MY soon to be wife? I did not come here to watch you ridicule the love of my life. People like you should be ashamed to even call yourself parents.”

You looked up at him through teary eyes, your heart skipping a beat. No one had ever stood up for you like that, no one had ever fought for your respect the way he was doing right now. Your parents were stunned, scrambling for words to respond with.

“Your daughter is the most precious woman I have ever met in my life. The most thoughtful, loving, kind and beautiful girl that I never thought fate would bless me with. Every day, she makes me so proud, and I feel blessed, knowing that I get to spend the rest of my life with her. I feel nothing but pity and anger for people like you, because you are too narrowly concerned with yourselves and your older daughter. This is the last time you will be seeing or hearing from either of us. Oh and, do not even try to expect an invitation to the wedding.”

Zayne then looked at you; your teary eyes hurting his soul. But he smiled at you reassuringly, holding your hand as he lead you away from the wretched place. He would make sure to love you even more to replace the pain your parents had inflicted on you in all these years. As soon as you both reached near his car, he pulled you into an embrace.

“I am so unbelievably sorry my love. I should’ve never asked you to do this..”

You shook your head, looking up at him with teary eyes. “No zayne, in fact..I’m so glad you did..” you cupped his cheeks softly, holding him close. “Do you have any idea just how much you’ve healed me, when you never even broke me..? And what you did back there..I never felt so loved and protected before. No one has ever stood up for me like that..”

Zayne felt his eyes soften so much, as he held your hand, kissing your knuckles. “I will always stand up for you. You are my pride, you are my strength and you are my love. I am the luckiest man ever to have you in my life, my jasmine.”

You felt yourself smile so much, the inner child in you healing after so many years because she knew that her knight in shining armour was here now. With his protection, no one would harm you again.

Author’s note: hii you guys I hope you enjoyed reading this! Should I turn this plot into a series for the rest of the boys? Lemme know in the comments or feel free to send in any requests you have!🫶

[devourable]

⚘ the boys next door

sfwish, mdni | tags ; poly!male yanderes x gn reader (no prns used but 'you'), manipulation, yan behavior, slight fetishization of virginity

originally this was just gonna be one character so thank mazzy for convincing me to make him a poly duo instead lmfao. ik i have things to finish but like,,, boys 🫶

not too proud of this one so ill probs revise it or make a part two at a l8r time when im feeling less rusty

the boys next door were the two that everyone knew of as a pair.

sebastian and tobias grew up together, learned together, played together, and shared absolutely everything practically since they were born. they were what people thought of when the words 'best friends' came to mind.

nothing could or would ever come between the two boys, everyone said.

so it was no shock that when you came in and quite literally got between them — by virtue of moving into the vacancies that separated their homes — their instant mutual attraction to you would do nothing but strengthen the bond between them.

it was odd. any additions to their relationship was unheard of, but...

the boys next door shared everything. you didn't think that'd exclude you, did you?

toby and sebastian were quick to befriend you when you entered their life. you were around their age, practically the only other child in the area at that; but unlike the children at school who they'd turn away from in favor of each other, they readily made you part of their dynamic.

they didn't quite understand the feelings you gave them at first, they were too young to. all they really knew is that they liked being around you, they liked talking about you, and they wanted you to themselves.

when you were young, everything became about you. their favorite games involved them being your loyal knights, or bodyguards, or any other role that involved protecting you from whatever threat their little minds could imagine up.

and when you grew tired of playing the damsel in distress? they were fine with it. whatever you wanted from them, you got. sebastian's gaming console was practically yours with how much he pushed you to play on it. toby would beg his parents to get him any toy he'd seen you show interest in; and he'd always eventually get them for you.

they didn't want you to ever be bored around them. you'd always have a good time on their watch, and they spoiled you relentlessly to the best of their abilities.

you were theirs, now! and you took care of what was yours, no matter what. that's what both of them were taught.

they grew up with you. learned with you. played with you, and of course, they shared you — even as the three of you grew up.

everyone around you saw how much they adored you, too. when asked, the two boys would proclaim how they'd both marry you in the future. it was so cute! no one saw an issue with how they always took up as much time and attention as they could from you. or how you never really seemed to be able to make friends with other kids at your school...

you had your best friends, so it didn't matter. they were all you needed.

the pair grew to love their constant close proximity to you. it ensured that they'd know what was going on in your life at all times as you grew and developed. when you weren't all hanging out together, it wouldn't be unusual for the pair to simply watch your home from their windows, glimpsing into your windows to watch you go about your life.

you were turning into a fine young adult. but you still needed their protection! they both easily surpassed you in size as you all grew up — sebastian in particular, who's height was staggering compared to both you and toby. he liked the edge it gave him, and how intimidating he could be when needed. tobias didn't have that advantage, but everyone liked him enough to respect you as his territory anyway. you were so small and sweet, what if someone saw you the way they did? they couldn't have that, they had no choice but to keep you to themselves.

it felt like you always had at least one of the two at your side at all times. so much so that it felt odd when you were without either of them. sebastian and toby being by your side was as natural as breathing and you grew to never really question their behavior.

they were just making sure you were okay when they insisted on keeping you company when you were home alone. when toby took your first kiss, it was because it only made sense — it should go to someone you trust and care about, right? and when you told the two that you were still a virgin well into adulthood (which they knew, of course), they insisted on being your first.

they knew you better than anyone, they'd know how to make you feel good. and who better to give your virginity to than your best friends?

getting to claim your body, inside and out, was one of the best moments of their lives. no one would ever get to have you the way they did.

no matter what you'd do, where you'd go, you'd always be effected by them in some way — and that's exactly how they wanted it. they'd always be your first best friends, your first boyfriends, your first everything. and you'd always be theirs.

the boys next door would always be entangled in your life. but you wouldn't have it any other way, would you?

they know you better than anyone, after all.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was certain Maverick didn't intend to stress him out when he said you and he were the spitting image of Goose and Carole. But suddenly, for better or for worse, it was all he could think about. There is so much to look forward to with you in his life, but now he has to break the worst kind of news to you.

Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, smut, angst, adult banter, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley couldn't seem to stop grinning. Playing the part of tour guide for your class was a pleasure. The kids made fun of Jake, which was honestly lovely, and everyone got to experience different aspects of aviation, not just flying. You even made Cyclone smile, so you'd done the impossible there. Bradley had a grin on his face for the rest of the afternoon, and Nat kept ribbing him about it.

"Are the two of you going to get married and have eighteen kids?" she asked, feigning innocence like nobody else could.

"I know you're joking," he replied as he cleaned up and organized all of the noise canceling headphones. "You know how I know? Because you know how much money I make. I could never afford eighteen kids. It's gotta be like fifteen, tops."

"You never ever even joked about having a child before!" she said, tone accusatory.

Talking about you and thinking about you made him feel calm where no relationship he'd had in the past ever really did. "Come on, Nat. You know I'm serious about this one." 

She laughed in response. "Being in love for once instead of just settling for someone to keep you company looks good on you. It's about time you stopped fucking up." He planted his hand on top of her head, scrunched his fingers, and messed up her hair. "Stop it!" she screeched as he ran away across the tarmac as fast as he could and into the hangar where he found Marty.

Bradley peeked around to make sure she hadn't followed him as he made a beeline toward the mechanic. "Hey, I can't thank you enough for today," he told Marty, shaking his calloused hand.

"It was fun," he replied. "Some of those kids are future aviators, I'm telling you."

"Violet," they both said at the same time and started laughing.

"And Oliver is a bit of a daredevil," Bradley added as he helped Marty pack up his work station. "They've been learning about aviation for months, and I know today meant a lot to them."

Marty looked a little pensive before he nodded at Bradley. "You know what," he said in response as he locked his toolbox, "go ahead and tell your girlfriend that I'll be there for her career day as long as I'm not deployed."

Bradley cocked his head. "Career day. Right. I'll let her know." 

He had no idea what Marty was talking about, but it was just about time for him to head out for the day. By the time he got home from work, you'd probably be on your way back down from Mira Mesa. His thoughts were circling around Maverick's words from earlier. If he was reminded of Goose and Carole when he looked at Bradley with you, then no wonder this felt like the real deal. It must be just that.

But he was in his head now. He was desperate to keep you, because he knew all too well what loneliness felt like, but he couldn't stand the thought of you worrying about him. And the idea of anything happening to him while he was away from you was too much to handle. He rubbed his eyes as he walked to his Bronco. Being compared to his parents felt like a blessing and a curse.

--------------------------

The evenings were getting chilly this time of year, but you changed into the dress you wore on your first date with Bradley as soon as you got home. Then you quickly packed an overnight bag. Driving to work from his house tomorrow would be a true test. Nothing was going to be a complete deal breaker for you at this point, but you hoped it didn't leave you in tears of frustration. Or have Bradley trying to scramble to find a way to try to make you happy when you already were.

Your plan for the evening was to pick up some Thai food from the place he loved on your way to his house. When you texted Bradley to let him know you were leaving your place soon and that you hoped he was hungry, he wrote back one sentence.

All I want is you.

Every time you thought it would be impossible for him to continue to set off the butterflies in your tummy, he did it again. Your face felt warm, and you ran your palm along your cheek as you thought about every little detail of the field trip while you drove. He didn't just love you, he appreciated your job and your students. Your ex didn't even let you talk about them. Bradley let them rank the cafeteria foods at the Naval base. He got Marty to give a demonstration. He got permission for them to sit in his jet and assist with air traffic control!

You moaned as you wove through traffic to get there. All I want is you. Well fuck, all you wanted was him. Your feelings outweighed the amount of time you'd known him, but you couldn't seem to make yourself pump the brakes now. When you stopped to pick up dinner, you thought back to your first date with Bradley. It wasn't very long ago, but it felt like so much had happened since then. It felt like even more had happened since he responded to your first letter. In such a short amount of time, you had fallen in love.

Your skin was tingling with anticipation as you parked in front of his house. Hadn't you been with him just a few hours ago? Why did you feel the need to run for the front door with the Thai food? Why did your heart skip a beat when Bradley opened the door in his sweatshirt and gray sweatpants and met you on the front porch before you even had a chance to knock?

"Gorgeous," he breathed against your cheek, holding you close as you tried not to squish the bag containing dinner. Then he pulled his shirt off, leaving him in a tee, and tugged it over your head. His mustache tickled your skin as he leaned in and whispered, "You look too good in my sweatshirt. You look like you're mine."

Your belly swooped as you promised, "I absolutely am."

"Fuck."

You laughed as you handed the bag to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Give me a minute to kiss you the way I wanted to earlier, and then we're having a picnic dinner."

Bradley started to respond with one eyebrow raised, but you didn't let him get a word out as your lips met his. He deepened the kiss immediately, and you sighed; this was how you always wanted him. You appreciated that he held back earlier, but right now, you wanted him all to yourself.

"Thank you for today," you murmured between kisses as his hand slid lower along your back. "You're the hero of Mira Mesa Elementary, and I wanted to treat you to dinner on behalf of my class."

His cheeks were a little rosy as he pulled away a bit more. "You don't have to thank me for anything. You know that. I'm happy to do anything you want."

"Stop," you whispered, burying your face against his neck. "A girl can only handle so much. Let's go eat dinner down on the beach, and maybe there will be an additional little something special for you."

You were tugging on his arm, fingers gripping his thick bicep, but he didn't budge an inch. "I'm in sweats and a tee shirt. Should I change?"

"Why?" you asked, still tugging. "You look hot."

His blush deepened. "But you're wearing your dress and my sweatshirt. And I was kind of interested in snuggling on the couch."

"Let's go," you repeated, and he took a few steps toward your car with the bag of food in his hand. "We can come back and snuggle on the couch later."

While he agreed, he didn't seem to want to let you go. His hand was on yours while you drove the few blocks to the beach, and he wrapped his arm around you as you pulled an oversized beach towel out of your trunk along with a blanket. 

"Baby, it'll get chilly as soon as the sun sets."

"I'll keep you warm," you promised, running your fingers along his bare arm before taking his hand. He was quiet as the two of you walked down from the parking lot to the sand, and when you looked up at him as the warm, orange light illuminated his face as the sun sank low in the sky, he seemed contemplative. "What's wrong?" you asked, heart skipping a beat as you stopped in front of him so he was looking at you.

Bradley's gaze was soft as he met your eyes. "Nothing's wrong. I'm with you." 

But even as the two of you ate dinner together, he pulled you snug next to his side like he was afraid you were going to go somewhere. You took a bite of the Pad Thai and then said, "I wish I thought to bring some Prosecco," but you only got a little grunt in response. "Bradley," you snapped, reaching for his chin and turning his head gently so he was facing you. "You weren't like this earlier during the field trip. You're acting strange. Do you want me to go home?"

"No," he replied with wide eyes, wrapping one big hand around your thigh and kissing your forehead. "I don't want you to go anywhere without me." With a sigh, he added, "I'm sorry. I just... got in my own head about us."

"Us?" you asked immediately, scrambling to try to figure out what you could have possibly done wrong. The whole day was perfect, and now you felt yourself trying to pull away from his grasp.

"No," he insisted once more as the air grew cooler. The sky was more dark blue than orange now, and Bradley was silent for a beat before he said, "Maverick... Captain Mitchell... you met him earlier..." When you nodded, he kissed your forehead and said, "He was my dad's friend. They flew together. Maverick knew him well."

Your boyfriend's parents had been gone for a long time. "Oh," you gasped. If you'd known that earlier, you'd have taken more time to get to know Captain Mitchell.

Before you could dwell on it too much, Bradley whispered, "I think about you all the time, Gorgeous. I think about fucking you on my couch and feeding you breakfast. I think about taking you back to Salvatore's for every special occasion. I think about your letters and your pretty face and diamond rings. And the future."

His words were warm and intentional, and you shivered even as he pulled you closer. "Bradley," you said so softly, you could barely hear yourself. "I think about all of that, too."

Some of the tension seemed to melt away from his body as you ran your fingers through his hair. His lips skimmed along yours as he said, "Maverick told me I reminded him of my dad today. And that you reminded him of my mom. This is all because he can tell how head over heels I am for you. Just like my parents were for each other."

Everything he said was too dreamy. When you tried to take a deep breath, it hitched in your throat. "I don't understand what the problem is, Bradley. I feel the same way about you."

His gaze was fixed on the water as he held you and said, "My dad left my mom and I alone. The last thing I ever want to do is leave you."

A smile found your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Is this why you're being weird and clingy at the same time?"

When he looked at you he laughed. "I guess. I'm sorry."

"Bradley," you whispered, kissing his mustache and reaching for the blanket to cover both of you. "I've spent months falling in love with you in spite of your job. Or maybe because of it. Or maybe just because there was no holding back. I've thought about the risks, and you are worth it. I'm sure your mom felt the same way about your dad."

He pulled you down on top of him, dinner forgotten, and kissed you with one heavy hand still on the back of your thigh. "As long as you've accepted the risks, Gorgeous." His fingers slid up a few inches as he added, "Today was incredibly fun for me, and I'm happy your kids had a good time. I'm already looking forward to visiting your school again if you want me there."

"Oh," you whispered, placing a soft kiss to his scars. "That reminds me. Career day is coming up in a few months. You'll definitely need to be there for that."

Bradley grunted and gave you a little smack on your rear end that made you gasp in delight. "See, you're telling me about this now, but I already heard about career day from Marty."

Your fingers on his bicep tightened as you tried not to moan. "I just got excited earlier," you whispered. "I promise I was going to tell you."

"Hmm... so Marty and the other aviators are more interesting than I am. I understand, Gorgeous."

His voice was teasing, and he seemed a lot more at ease now as that big hand gripped and grabbed at you under the blanket. When you shifted slightly, you could feel him through his gray sweatpants. He was a little eager, but so were you now. His occasional need to hear you reaffirm your feelings for him was something you'd always be happy to indulge.

"Will you let me prove to you that you're the most interesting? My very favorite Naval officer?"

"What do you have in mind?"

--------------------------

The first few stars were glittering to life in the sky as the horizon continued to darken from orange to purple to blue. Bradley lounged back on the oversized beach towel with one arm tucked behind his head and enjoyed the sight. It was beautiful. So was the sound of you softly gagging on his cock.

"God damn," he muttered, fingers stroking the back of your neck as he squeezed his eyes closed and focused on the feel of your mouth slowly gliding along his shaft until he was deep once again. The air was cool on his overheated skin, and the breeze was probably enough to keep anyone else from visiting this secluded stretch of beach while you treated him to your lips and tongue.

When you gagged again, he saw stars prettier than the ones in the sky, and he could feel your saliva drip down to his balls before you lapped at them as well. He half expected to see the front of his sweatpants all damp by the time you were done. He was really looking forward to it. And it wouldn't be much longer now as you sucked on his balls and pumped your fist around him nice and slow.

Your voice was light as air when you released him and playfully asked, "Do you believe you're my favorite?"

Bradley glanced down where he could see the outline of your body and his hard cock hanging out of his pants. "Baby, I would believe anything you told me right now," he muttered, delighting in your laughter.

"You're my favorite," you said before kissing his tip and sinking those pretty lips around him once again. Your grip was firm as you sucked, and it wasn't long before Bradley was grunting and trying not to grab you too tight with his fingers. 

You were giving him head on the beach, and it was so damn hot, but you were still his sweet girlfriend. He just wanted to make you happy, and when he came, you moaned in delight until he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. Then your lips were on his, and he could taste both of you there. "You're my favorite," you repeated, reaching down to carefully pull his sweatpants up while he head spun.

He groaned and wrapped his arm around your waist. "If this was your ploy to get me to agree to career day, it definitely worked. But you know I would have said yes no matter what."

Your lips were on his ear as you laughed. "Can we go home and get warmed up in the shower?"

Home. You belonged there with him. He knew it. You knew it too, even if only subconsciously. "Yeah, let's go home."

On Friday, he woke up earlier than usual to make sure you were awake in time to get to work. He packed you a lunch, grimaced when he checked the traffic on his phone and said, "I'll pay for your gas."

"I don't need you to pay for my gas, Bradley!" you insisted.

One look at your pretty face had him shaking his head. "Traffic is a nightmare. What's it going to take to get you to come back here again tonight?" he asked, handing you a mug of coffee. "Because I honestly don't mind paying a little extra in gas money to make up for the fact that I bought a house in Coronado."

You bit your lip and then asked, "How do you not understand that being with you is going to be worth the drive?"

"Save your verdict for after you've actually driven through rush hour."

He was delighted when you returned right after work for the weekend. And Saturday morning, you slept in while Bradley went for a run with Nat. He kissed you goodbye and watched you roll over onto his pillow with a soft smile on your lips. Six miles in and he was getting antsy to get back to make you breakfast.

"Are you two coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked, huffing as she tried to speak and run at the same time.

He grunted in response. You hadn't been to the Hard Deck yet, and he wasn't sure he felt like sharing you with everyone else this evening. "Maybe."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Just bring her. You've been MIA for weeks and weeks since you got back. You can stare longingly at her while other people are around for a few hours."

"I'll ask how she feels about it."

But he should have known you'd want to go as soon as he mentioned it to you in the shower after breakfast. "I didn't bring anything cute to wear," you complained with a little pout.

"Baby, you could wear one of my ratty old shirts with your jeans, and you'd be the cutest thing in the place."

A smile curved along your lips, and that's exactly what you ended up wearing. Your snug jeans only looked sexier on you when paired with one of his soft tee shirts from his college days, which you tied in a little knot at the hem. He could see a peek of your skin here and there as you finished getting ready that evening, and he couldn't keep his hands off you. When the two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, he knew he was going to have to keep you close by.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, tucking his fingers around your waist as Jake Seresin himself eyed you up. "The only thing I can promise is that the wine here sucks compared to Salvatore's."

But you were oblivious as you looked around the interior of the bar as you caught a few more gazes. He didn't love these horny guys all checking you out like the piece of fresh meat you really were. "How about a beer then?" you asked, scanning everything that Penny had on tap and pointing to your favorite.

"Solid choice," he replied, ordering two from Jimmy. And then all too soon, you were the one pulling him toward the pool table and Natasha.

"Well, well, well," Jake drawled, setting down his empty bottle and tossing a dart repeatedly up into the air with his gaze glued on you. "What do we have here, Bradshaw?"

"This is my girlfriend," he replied immediately. "Don't get any ideas."

You cleared your throat, stuck out your hand, and told Jake your name. He reached for you with a smile and didn't let go. "You must be the teacher from the field trip the other day. I'm Jake. But if you'd prefer to use my call sign, it's Hungman. I mean Hangman. Looks like Baby on Board was right."

"Right about what?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to where Bob was blushing profusely with a pool cue in his hand.

Jake chuckled. "Nothing I can say in front of mixed company."

"Oh!" you said, pulling your hand free and pointing at Jake while you took a sip of your beer. Bradley felt the need to protect you, but you didn't really need him to at all as you smirked and said, "Hangman. Right. You're the guy with the dumb call sign. My students were still talking about it yesterday."

Bradley started laughing at the sour look on Jake's face. After that, you had some very pleasant conversations with Javy, Mickey and Reuben, even though he could see their eyes dip down to your chest on occasion. It wasn't really their fault that you were beautiful, so he let it slide while he played pool with Nat. Eventually you joined in with him, and you insisted on buying the next two beers plus another drink for his best friend.

"I'll be right back," you told him, playfully backing away toward the bar with a smile, and Bradley watched you the entire time you were gone.

"You are a mess," Nat informed him as if he didn't already know that.

He shook his head. "I just know the day is going to come when I'm not around to physically be with her. And you'll be the one inviting her out to the bar while I'm eating soggy cabbage rolls on an aircraft carrier. So I need to set the precedent now. She's with me, and all of these assholes we work with can keep their hands to themselves where she is concerned."

"You were never this up tight when you brought Vanessa here."

His ex's name always sounded startling now when it rattled around in his head. "She was mean," he said easily. "Nobody wanted to talk to her even though she was pretty." But Bradley honestly never did feel this way about her or anyone else before you. Watching you pay Jimmy with a smile on your face before turning and meeting his eyes was enough to send him walking halfway to meet you.

Bradley took one of the drinks from your hands and leaned down to give you a nice, long kiss with tongue. Was he marking his territory? Sure. Was he also letting you know he was ready to get you alone again whenever you wanted to leave? Absolutely. Was he also just such a mess he couldn't help but touch you? A hundred percent.

It wasn't long before you suggested calling it a night.

----------------------------

Bradley was deep inside you, one big hand pinning your wrists above your head on his pillow. His fingers were trailing down your skin as he fucked you a little harder, and you let him talk and ramble to his heart's content while he brought you closer to where you wanted to be.

"You're perfect," he crooned, hazy gaze focused on your face. "Tell me, Baby, please. I need to know." He kissed along your neck, tongue darting out to taste the sheen of sweat. "Please."

"What?" you gasped, barely able to talk at all as his fingers settled on your clit.

You thought maybe he gave up trying to communicate right now, but then he licked his lips and said, "Give me a date. Please. Give me a date when you're going to move in." But he was stroking you just right, and your only response was a gasp before you were chanting his name.

His lips settled on yours as you came for him, clenching around his cock until he spilled himself inside you. His kisses were rough before turning sweet, and soon he was softly teasing your lips as he muttered, "You gonna tell me?"

It took you a second to push through the fog as your orgasm tapered off, and you smiled. "I thought you weren't in a hurry. Just in love." His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as he ducked his head, but you'd already been giving it a lot of thought. When he started to shift, you whispered, "January twentieth."

He froze again and met your eyes. "Yeah? Seriously?"

"Seriously."

His hands were cupping your face while he stayed buried inside you. "Gorgeous, you just made my whole fucking day."

Within the hour, he had the date saved in his phone calendar, and you were on his lap on the couch eating popcorn. "We've got time, but I'll help you pack beforehand and move everything. Javy has a truck, so I'll make sure we can use that. You could always start moving some things before that if you wanted to."

You popped a kernel between his lips and asked, "You just really wanted a date to look forward to?"

"So bad," he replied with a grin. "I can't wait to have my professional spider hunter around all the time."

"You're ridiculous," you told him with a grin of your own. You yawned, exhausted in the early hours of Sunday morning. "I need some sleep or else I'll be dead on my feet at work this week. You need to show me that you can be well behaved and let me rest even after I've moved in with you."

"On it," he replied, dumping the remainder of the popcorn into his mouth before scooping you up and heading for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

--------------------------------

Bradley smiled as he ate some macaroni and cheese in the cafeteria later that week. He had two new dates saved in his phone calendar. The day you would be moving in with him and the date for career day at your school. He couldn't wait. He was admiring the calendar entries when his phone alerted him to a new email. It was oddly enough from your school account.

Dear Lieutenant Bradshaw,

We just wanted to reach out and thank you again for taking us on a tour of North Island. Our lessons about aviation were brought to life. It was the educational opportunity of a lifetime, and we also had so much fun on the field trip. Our classroom door is always open anytime you want to visit.

Sincerely,

Your nineteen pen pals

Immediately after he finished reading, he noticed he had another email. From your personal account this time.

Did you know there are just thirty-five days until I move to Coronado?

Attached was a photo of you holding up three fingers and five fingers in front of your naked tits, and Bradley almost dropped his phone. He could see everything, just like you probably intended, but he had to close out of the image as Maverick approached him with a frown.

"We need to talk."

Bradley's brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

The older man sighed and rubbed his forehead. "A call came in from Norfolk. Atlantic Fleet needs one more F/A-18 pilot for an assignment. Your name was mentioned."

"No," Bradley replied immediately as his stomach lurched. "Atlantic Fleet? Mav, please tell me you're joking."

"I'm not."

Bradley's head was swimming with concern. He'd only been in the Pacific Fleet for a few years, and he wasn't looking to go back to Virginia. Not even temporarily, but certainly not permanently. You were only with him because he was based out of San Diego. You told him yourself how scared you had been when you thought you were falling for a man who lived on the other side of the country.

"My name was mentioned?" he muttered. "Who else was mentioned?"

Maverick shook his head. "Nobody. They want you. I'd start thinking about getting your duffle out of the closet this weekend. I'll get your more information as soon as I can."

Bradley had more questions than answers, but he let the other man walk away without another word. When he unlocked his phone and saw the perfect photo of you, his heart clenched. Having answers to his questions would only make it harder to tell you what was about to happen.

---------------------------

But they love each other! Reverting back to full-time pen pals mode? Will that even work? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

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[rainynightmoonlight]

Pancakes, Coffee, And Kisses || Yan Husband x GN Reader

Characters: Julian

Summary: Your Husband is a literal dream! Why is there blood on his coat?

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence

a/n: He has no rival, he's too clingy

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Yan Husband who you met in a coffee shop some time ago. You two bonded over a shared favorite drink which turned into finding out you two had gone to the same school and even shared classes. This just pushes you two into a relationship and a short few years later, he's at the altar with you sharing wedding vows with you.

Yan Husband who made sure your wedding was extravagant. Nothing compares to his love for you so whatever you wanted for your wedding was a must! He had the money and his parents were more than willing to help him out. They adored you and were so happy to have you as a child-in-law. Their son was happier about having you as a spouse.

Yan Husband who plans the honeymoon perfectly. Your dream location. Your dream hotel. Your dream everything! Both the wedding and honeymoon were like dreams for you, and he couldn't have asked for more. Anything to make you happy. And it shows through all the hurtles he was going through for you.

Yan Husband who takes pictures of everything from both the wedding and honeymoon. He just wants to be reminded of the happiest moments of his life. All the pictures have been framed and cover a whole wall of the house you two live in together. The house was bought before you two got married.

Yan Husband who would rather be the working man while you stay home. Oh the image he has in his head. You in a cute little apron baking sweets for him while he comes home from a long day at work, de-stressing with the treats you made and you in his lap while he tells you about his day.

Yan Husband who would respect if you want to keep your job, but he makes it clear that he's jealous of your coworkers. He gets so mad when you come home late claiming you had a business project with someone else. Why can't you two work the same job within the same building?

Yan Husband who secretly wouldn't mind being the house husband. Vocally, he's adamant about being the stay at home caregiver but the thought of taking care of you the way a house husband would make him see hearts. However, he always wants to provide for you.

Yan Husband who pampers you every weekend no matter what. He has to make sure you're happy. When you aren't, he gets so scared. When you aren't happy then he isn't either. You don't realize how dependent he is on you to feel emotions.

Yan Husband who is on the fence about kids. He does want them albeit through pregnancy or adoptions (if you can't have kids), he doesn't care. His issue is that they would take away from the time you two have and consume more of your attention. He needs to be your number one priority.

Yan Husband who doesn't mind pets as much. They're just animals, there's no way you would love pets more than him! And he can stick pets into a room or outside with the excuse that the animal needed it, or they were being too much so he needed time away from them. Since the pet is out of the way for a bit, why don't you two cuddle?

Yan Husband who is a petty little shit whenever you make plans with other people. He pouts when you get home from a friend's night and just tells you to leave. It's clear you don't need him anymore! You have your good friends and drinking buddies.

Yan Husband who holds grudges against the people that take your attention away but controls his urges well because he's married to you! You're not going to cheat on him! You two are bonded till death do you part, and not even death will keep him away from you.

Yan Husband who requires constant reassurance that he's still enough for you. Even when he becomes tired and can't do the usual when he's with you, which is worshiping your entire being, that you still want to stay married to him. Just hold him close in bed and pamper him with affection.

Yan Husband who takes milestones very seriously. Date nights, birthdays, anniversaries, you name it, and it'll be all about you in an enchanting evening. Flowers and treats along with gifts. It's all for celebrating you! The love of his life!

Yan Husband who will spontaneously bring you flowers when he gets home. He always gives you a compliment that's flower related when he gives them to you. You're more lovely than the flowers he brought.

Yan Husband who spoils you with breakfast every morning. It's amazing if you two start your days at the same time and get home around the same time. It's like you two are in sync, and it furthers his belief that you two are soulmates.

Yan Husband who will push your family away from you by taking you to his parents and show how loving his family is with him. See? This is how a family should be! You don't need your family, you have him and your in-laws. You don't need anyone else.

Yan Husband who slowly gives in to his delusions the longer you two are married. He uses the wedding rings as a way to stake his claim on you. His name is engraved in your ring, and he got you a matching necklace. Anyone who walks by will see how loved you are.

Yan Husband who loves when your friends are jealous of him. He relishes in the fact that your friends see him as a loving husband and wish their partners were like him. It further proves that he's treating you so well, and you could have been with some loser.

Yan Husband who keeps tabs on you through your texts. It's a lot less suspicious since you're both married to each other. You trust him enough to go through your phone. In fact, you would think it's cute how he takes selfies of himself with your phone. It's his way of keeping others away when you show people your photos.

Yan Husband who would burn the world for you, his lovely spouse. Nothing is too much for him in his eyes. If it just brings even the smallest of smiles to your face then he'll do it. Anything you ask. Just love him forever, until you're both buried six feet down, and he can guarantee a happy life with you.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[cozycottagetarot]

Random Things About Your Person

From Elle: Pulled This One From The Drafts... wasn't going to post it but maybe there's something useful in it for someone. It's a chill one ✌️

Notes:

Definition of 'Your Person': At this point, I'm not sure how I personally define 'Your Person', so I guess I'm leaving that up to you're interpretation. For now, let's just say someone you'll have an impactful connection with.

Reading Layout: This reading is done in a brain-dump style where the info is just bullet as it came to me and less organised.

Dividers From X

Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

PILE 1

This person is such a loving and nurturing person… they could even help heal your inner child. If you want kids then this will transfer over to how they parent and it's very heartwarming.

They give off ethereal vibes. Very in tune with their intuition or have a strong sense of knowing

They could be your 'perfect match'

Someone you 'grow old' with or could envision yourself 'growing old' with

They could have a diverse friend group or their friend group is very important to them.

Night and the moon could be super important. They could be born at night, you meet at night or you communicate with them through your dreams.

They’re very abundant. Regardless of how much money they make, they just have such a rich life that you can see they are without want.

They’re very calming. They could calm your nervous system.

You’re going to have a very passionate/intimate relationship

There could be a 1-3 year age difference between you two (this is more so if you're interested in age differences... I don't why but I ended up reading those here)

They’re trustworthy and reliable

A very strong, gentle and protective person

PILE 2

Could live by the water or be very emotional.

They’re your heart, your everything. It might be hard to deny your attraction to them… but not physically. More so like a knowing once you meet this person that they play a significant role in your story

'Lionheart'... Regal energy

Lots to learn from them... So much that I actually wrote it twice lol

Kind of exotic… very beautiful

They don’t bark, they bite

They're someone who makes things happen

Very quiet…. It makes me think of something that I saw that goes along the lines of "You're harmless, not peaceful. If you’re peaceful you’re capable of great violence" or something like that. This is not meant to say that they're this aggressive/violent person. I feel like it's quite the opposite really.

I kept seeing this image of coming across a wounded animal, a wolf to be exact. You can see they've been in a fight/injured and are on guard. They're not going to hurt you but you can see that they are alert and will attack if you show you mean harm. A case of survival...

I feel like they hold the key to your happiness in a way

Something angelic about them… it could be their mind too

3 to a 8 year age difference (this is more so if you're interested in age differences… I don't why but I ended up reading those here)

An unexpected meeting

Beauty in darkness. Easily stressed or anxious. It feels very tense compared to pile/group 1

They’ve overcome a lot… flexible at a cost

One of you is further ahead in life than the other

Protective of their energy. Loyal, ambitious.

Overstimulated frequently or easily

PILE 3

They may be big on naps. Like napping together is their love language

They may be a little weird

Grumpy x sunshine vibes

Whimsy or connected to their inner child, youthful vibe

Very calm and peaceful

You two could be polar opposites but you work well together.

Their appearance can change a lot... I think more so through them willingly changing it. Really, don't be alarmed if you come home and they look completely different. I feel like they're mischievous and would get a kick out of your reaction

You could have a 2-6 year age difference (this is more so if you're interested in age differences… I don't why but I ended up reading those here)

They've managed to maintain a positive disposition despite the hardships they've faced

They could give off a met you in a past life vibe

Either good at helping you relax or they easily get stressed out but then can just as easily relax themself

Could be very creative or artistic... muse energy

Could like to take their space/time alone.... but could get lost in their head if not careful.

"Living in alignment" could be important to them... they may have a set of personal values or principles they really like to adhere to.

[battlekidx2]

“Do you like girls?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you like boys?”

“I don’t know. I think I like TV shows.”

I remember when I was in middle school all the other girls were talking about the guys they liked and I said I didn’t like anyone. I just wanted to do my own thing.

I didn’t really get why I would want to date anyone. I understood friendship, companionship— having someone to share my interests and mutually info dump to sounded cool— but I struggled to understand the appeal of spending every day and every night with someone else. Of holding hands and going on dates. 

This led to a lot of homophobic bullying and a few of them would act disgusted that I might be into them. Constantly acting like I was looking at their boobs and sexualizing them (I never made eye contact with anyone and would frequently look at the wall or space out while looking in their general direction). Or make a big show of not being interested and many other things.

I didn’t get this either. I didn’t know why I would be interested in any of them. They treated me poorly and I thought attraction was something people made up and simply just claimed to feel towards other people.

Just like I never understood celebrity crushes. You don’t know the person so how could you possibly know you liked them? And I never understood how people “chose” who they dated. Did they just choose whoever they liked hanging out with the most?

But any time I voiced this it was always met with worse and worse reactions. It led to isolation among peers and my family. My parents made it pretty clear I wasn’t who they wanted me to be. That I wasn’t normal.

I soon learned to fake it. Pretend I understood it.

The idea of not being attracted to anyone seemed like a foreign idea to most people I met. Even when I branched out and moved away, I met a few people in the lgbt community who couldn’t grasp it either and reacted poorly and it made me feel stupid. Like maybe I wasn’t just screwed up to people who fit in the neat little box society wants you to fit in, but to everyone else as well.

Maybe I was wrong. If it’s an impossibility even in this community that champions diversity and acceptance then can that really be my reality?

I kept trying to force it. To date, but every time I did I always felt that same skin crawling discomfort and it always petered out. It didn’t matter who it was or what gender. It always felt wrong. It was suffocating.

I don’t think there’s a movie that better portrays that all consuming, suffocating stagnation of feeling so out of place– knowing you’re out of place compared to those around you– and in response forcing yourself to fit what other people expect of you than I Saw the TV Glow.

Whenever I think back to growing up or whenever I return home that same feeling this movie is centered around always drenches my experiences.

And even now it’s hard to put into words when I talk to other people what I’ve felt when it comes to this aspect of my life.

That comment from Owen about knowing there’s nothing there when talking about romance and attraction, but being too afraid to look and knowing that his parents know something is wrong with him hit harder than any other scene from a movie I’ve watched this year.

It’s that absence of something that is at the heart of asexuality that makes me always question what I choose to identify as when I have to explain it to someone. Because for the most part my explanation boils down to (in broad oversimplified terms): I’ve never felt attraction, I’m more interested in watching a Spider-Man movie than I’ve ever been into even just the idea of dating, every time I’ve attempted to date it’s been uncomfortable and I’ve actively dodged anything beyond friendship while in the “relationship”.

And when I try to voice that to another person it always feels like those experiences don’t hold water. That’s describing the absence of something. There’s no real proof of the identity.

With being bi or gay or lesbian there’s something you can I don’t know—point to?— that can help you know your identity.

And that’s the fact that you’ve experienced attraction towards one or more people of one or more genders.

It’s defined not by the lack of something but the presence of an experience.

And so every time I try and explain it I end up feeling stupid. Like I just haven’t tried hard enough to find someone compatible. That I need to get back into the proverbial saddle and try again. I always in some way feel ashamed and backtrack as a result.

This is in no way to say that it’s harder or easier to be one identity or the another. Everyone’s experiences are different and everyone experiences are valid. This is just a struggle I’ve found that’s unique to asexuality that many people I’ve talked to have also experienced.

I haven’t felt that part of my experience be seen in media until I saw this movie. Maybe I’m latching onto what I can get or maybe that was an intrinsic part of the movie. That’s not important. What’s important is that it’s something I felt seen in even if it was literally just one scene.

This is my really long winded and roundabout way of saying that I really think this movie is going to stick with me much longer than any other thing I’ve seen this year.

Things can be hard to put into words and as a result I tend to keep things inside. I’m fairly certain I’m ace but it might turn out I’m on a different romantic spectrum then I thought or I fall somewhere different than I thought on the ace spectrum. I don’t know what I’ll discover in the future.

I’m likely not going to express my label out loud to anyone but a select few. I still can’t express this particular label out loud to many people. My family is definitely never going to hear it. A friend or two might.

It’s something I struggle with on a regular basis. I’m fine with identifying with the label in my head—in a lot of ways it makes me feel comfortable and happy— but any time I try to voice it the words die in my throat and I can’t help but feel ashamed. It’s easier to just tell people I don’t want to date right now. That there are all these factors in the way (finances, time, jobs, etc) than it is to try and explain what I’ve just rambled about above.

I know many people have felt and understood that experience and I hope people know they’re valid. You can express your identity with your full chest, shout it from the rooftops and let people know, or you can keep it to yourself, identifying as your label solely in your head. Both experiences are valid. And if your label changes at some point in your life that doesn’t make what you chose to identify as at this point any less valid too. People are always learning and growing. You can gain a new understanding of yourself as time move forward.

Sorry for the way too long ramble. This movie made me feel things.

[crappymixtape]

stand on my own

after months of begging, steve finally takes you home to meet his parents – you've been together for over a year and he doesn't talk about them much, but once you meet them you begin to understand why *18+ only | ( 3K words – TW: verbal abuse, almost physical abuse, both from steve's dad – angst, hurt / comfort, sprinkle of fluff, est. relationship, steve x you, steve x reader )

S T A N D O N M Y O W N 🎶 stupid 4 u, dizzy

When you pulled into the Harrington’s driveway, your mouth dropped open at the sheer size of the house. Three times the size of yours growing up with a brand new Porsche parked out front. Steve always told you his dad was materialistic, but he hadn’t said anything about how materialistic or how much someone would have to make to drive a car like that.

Robin had warned you, told you the Harringtons were the pinnacle of Hawkins, Indiana, but if you didn’t grow up with that last name in your mouth, you’d have no idea. No idea of the legacy the Harringtons built after producing generation after generation of lawyers, and why would you? Hawkins was a tiny dot on the map compared to Indianapolis.

You’d moved away from the city in pursuit of a softer life, roomed with Robin Buckley after you’d both been accepted at the local community college and met her best friend – most platonic boyfriend, Steve – on your first night there at a party. He had been standing shoulder-to-shoulder drinking a beer with another guy, Eddie Munson, and both had grease stains all over their pants. In another world, you might have found it a turn-off, but when he caught your eye from across the room you knew you were done for.

Long locks of hair fell into his eyes, his thick lashes sweeping across high cheekbones when he blinked, and the most perfect, pink lips that tugged up at the corner in a grin, grinning at you. High school basketball superstar turned mechanic after getting denied by Indiana State, and damn, it looked good on him.

The day after the party, your car broke down just outside of town, and he came to pick you up in the tow truck with grease-smudged hands and a towel hanging out of the back pocket of his Carhartts. You talked the whole way back to the garage, told him about growing up in the city and how it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. He told you how his favorite thing about Hawkins was the way the sky lit up in the summer right as the sun went down, set to flames as it crept beneath the horizon and you asked him if he’d show you sometime. When you got to the shop he told you he’d personally make sure your car was put back in tip-top shape and then took you for the best milkshake of your life at the diner afterward.

Eddie’s uncle Wayne owned the shop, simply called Munson’s, and had been running it since his old man died back in the 50s. It was the most trusted mechanic south of the city and while it wasn’t glamorous, it was honest work, and Steve liked the people. They were thankful for his help and paid him enough to make a decent living, and there was something about working with his hands that gave Steve a sense of gratification and pride he’d never experienced before. Not stuck behind some desk 9-5 like his dad. He didn’t make hundreds of thousands of dollars or live in a mini-mansion, and even though all that wasn’t important to Steve, it still didn’t make him feel any better as he rumbled into his parents’ driveway.

“Shit,” Steve muttered under his breath as he shifted the truck into park. Running his hands through his hair, he let his head fall forward onto the steering wheel, his nerves palpable from the passenger seat. “I really don’t want to go in there.”

“You’re not going alone, if that’s any consolation?” you offered, gently teasing, rubbing a hand over the soft fabric of the only clean, white t-shirt he owned.

He gave you a lopsided smile and turned the truck off, “That helps a lot.”

“Good.”

The light on the porch flicked on, and it drew Steve’s attention like the snap of a whip.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” you grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed as the front door opened to reveal the portrait of a perfect housewife, Carol Harrington.

“Hi, honey!” she called with a wave, gesturing you to get out of the truck and Steve huffed a heavy sigh.

“Here goes nothing,” he said, expression tinged with dread. With one last glance over at you, he moved to open his door, “Listen, if my dad says anything, I can’t promise I won’t say something back.”

“That makes two of us,” you half-joked, but Steve knew by the look in your eye you were serious. If there was anything you didn’t tolerate, it was demeaning people, and from what Robin said, Gary Harrington had used Steve as his verbal punching bag for most of his life.

You watched as Steve tried to laugh, but it caught in his throat as he pushed himself off the truck bench and out onto the driveway.

“Hey, Mom.”

“I hope you came hungry!” Carol said, wiping her hands on the red, checkered apron tied around her waist. “I made a casserole, a fresh green salad, and those rolls you like so much.”

“Oh–you didn’t have to do all that,” Steve insisted as he met his mom on the steps, his cheeks growing pink under the warm glow of the porch light.

“Of course I did.” Carol pulled her son into a hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “And who is this?” she smiled, turning her attention to you, big, blue eyes appraising, trying to decide if you were good enough for her Stevie.

You returned the smile, introducing yourself as Steve shoved his hands into the pockets of his Levis, anxious. The weight of her gaze was heavy and for a minute it shook you, but you doubled down. No one was going to push you around.

“Thank you for having us,” you said genuinely and a pleased look passed over her features.

“Yes, it’s so nice to finally meet you! We’ve been asking Stevie to come to dinner for months now. How’d you convince him?”

“Mom.”

“Okay,” she put her hands up in surrender. “Here, let’s get you two out of the cold. Come in, come in.”

If the outside manicured lawn and award-winning flowerbeds were perfection, then the inside had to have been crafted by God himself.

Every surface was spotless, decorated exquisitely with things you’d only seen in a catalog. Large, smooth, eggshell vases full of bare branches arranged just so, portraits of sweeping landscapes framed in gold and glass candy dishes sat atop polished, mahogany credenzas. As you took it all in, you noticed there were no photos of the family, and in that moment it all felt so empty. Staged and not properly lived in.

“Please, sit! What can I get you to drink?” Carol’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you glanced over to see her holding two bottles of wine. “I’ve got a chilled rosé or a bold red, can’t make a bad choice.”

“Thank you, but water’s fine,” you insisted and a grumble from the head of the dining room table pulled your attention.

Sitting in one of the lavishly, upholstered, high-backed chairs, Steve’s father met your gaze over the top of the newspaper he held in his hands. Folding it up, he set it neatly on the table top and folded his arms over chest, not appraising like Carol. No. This was judgement, cold and severe.

“Not a drinker, hm?” he drawled and you felt Steve tense at your side.

“One of us needs to be responsible,” you quipped back, half-joking and taking Steve’s hand in yours. It’s okay.

The older man snorted in reply and took up the tumbler of scotch at the side of his table setting. Before you could reply, Carol jumped in in an attempt to settle the already blooming tension.

“So, what do you do, dear? Stevie tells us you’re in school!” she asked, setting a hot casserole at the center of the table.

“Oh,” fell out, clumsy as the attention fully focused on you, “I’m uh–I’m pursuing a degree in the arts.”

“The arts! How wonderful!” Carol gushed, returning from the kitchen with a basket of rolls and glass, bowl of salad. “Literature or teaching? Some noble profession surely,” she said, tone oozing and saccharine sweet.

“Ceramics,” you replied tensely, wanting to be embarrassed, but refusing to give them the satisfaction. “I’m actually hoping to open my own studio someday.”

You’d barely finished your sentence when your ears caught Gary mumbling something about hippies and Steve’s mouth firmed into a flat line.

“Dad.”

“What?” Gary snipped back, taking another drink of his scotch as Carol pushed you both into your chairs. “It’s not a very common profession to get into. How’d you find it anyway?” Gary asked, feigning interest, but you could hear the skepticism.

Sitting a bit taller in your chair you leaned forward, chin tilted up in confidence, You can’t scare me.

“I’m originally from Indianapolis, but I came out here looking for something a little…slower. It’s a bit too busy up there for me. Mom was hoping I’d follow in her footsteps up there as a doctor, but–”

“Now see, that’s real work!” Gary said, leaning forward to match you. He shook his head, clicking his tongue at you. “Throwing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity away.”

“Dad!” Steve protested again from his chair next to you, the tension pulling taut in the air.

“Gary,” Carol cut in, eyes on her plate and not meeting the look her husband was giving her. “That’s enough. I’m sure she has good reason.“ Taking the serving spoon she started to dish everyone up. “How’s work going for you, Stevie?”

A heavy sigh pushed itself from Steve’s lungs and he closed his eyes for a minute. You could tell he was uncomfortable and for a minute you regretted making him do this. Taking his hand under the table you squeezed, reassuring, and he opened his eyes again to look at you in silent thanks.

“Uh…yeah,” he started, regaining his composure. “It’s good. Eddie and I are pretty busy right now. Wayne’s showing me how to do the books, actually.”

“Oh! Well, that’s wonderful!” Carol said with a comforting smile as she dished up her husband. “Isn’t that wonderful, Gary?”

“Wonderful isn’t the word I’d choose,” Gary sneered and Carol elbowed his shoulder.

“Behave,” she tutted.

“Actually, Wayne says he’s gonna retire soon,” Steve said sitting up a little taller and your stomach flipped over.

You’d talked on the way over about not sharing any of the news about the shop with them. Promised you wouldn’t say a word about it because it would only make things worse, but you watched now as Steve put it all on the table. Brave. Confident. Proud.

A vein bulged in the middle of Gary’s forehead.

“He’s leaving it to Eddie and–well, Eddie asked if I want to be his business partner. I haven’t signed the paperwork yet, but I’m going to. I want to. I think it’ll be good for–

“Absolutely not! Over my dead body,” Gary slammed a hand flat against the table and you flinched at the force of it, silverware clattering metallically against the fine china.

“It’s a good business, Dad, with a solid client list,” Steve pushed, “I make more than enough to–”

“You think you can convince me?” Gary growled, a sardonic smile twisting across his lips. “You wanna end up like the Munsons? Living like trailer trash?” The smile disappeared. “Jesus Steven, you’ve got a family business right here — your legacy — and you’re shitting all over it! For what? Some filthy garage?”

Carol’s face was as white as a sheet as Gary dug in and she put a hand on his shoulder, “Gary, please–”

“No, Carol. I’m not done,” he shrugged her off and stood from his chair. “That family has done nothing but produce a long line of losers,” he said, pointing a finger off out the dining room window toward Forest Hills. “Edward’s father was a drunk and that kid is one disaster away from drinking what little money he has. I mean, look at him! He’s always high, driving around town in that piece of shit van with hair down to his ass and–”

“Shut up!”

Steve stood up then and slapped the palms of his hands against the table, making you flinch again, your heart leaping into your throat as you watched him glare at his father, flushed and red from his neck to his ears, his hair falling into his eyes.

“Stevie–” Carol pleaded, but he ignored her.

“God, I’m so tired of it,” Steve roughed his hands over his face, flinging an arm in the same direction his father had. Toward Eddie, his partner, his best friend. “The Munsons work really hard! And they’re honest, which can’t be said for you,” he pushed, Gary’s face twisting ugly as Steve laid into him. “Lying and cheating people for what, huh? For money? For a Porche?”

“You watch your mouth,” Gary said a little too evenly and unease settled in your stomach.

“No. I’m not gonna sit here and let you lecture me about something you know nothing about. When was the last time you really felt proud, Dad? Like you accomplished something?”

“Every day!” Gary snapped, “When I sit at my desk and look at the framed degree on my wall because I did something with my life, Steven!” He pushed his chair out behind him and took a half step around the table toward his son. “I’ve become someone and made a name for myself! I support my wife because I’m a man,” he emphasized his point with a finger to Steve’s chest and you watched as Steve’s body grew stiff, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Yeah, well based on the flashy sports car in the driveway I’d say you’re compensating.”

“That’s enough!”

Gary stepped into Steve, Steve’s back bumping into the wall and it pulled you up from your seat while Carol shrunk into hers, head buried in her hands.

“You ungrateful little shit,” Gary spat, “You’re being handed an opportunity on a silver platter and spitting on it. How dare you—”

“No, dad! How dare you?” Steve shoved a hand flat into his dad’s chest and the older man stumbled back a step. “I bring home the most important person in my life to meet you, and you can’t even keep it together for more than five minutes! It’s embarrassing. You’re embarrassing. Let’s go.”

Steve grabbed your hand and started to pull you toward the door, food untouched on the table, but Gary took a half-step into your path of escape.

“You’ll stay until you apologize,” he growled.

Steve laughed incredulously. “Apologize? For what? For telling you what we already know? That you’re a selfish asshole?”

“What did I say about language?” Gary returned the shove Steve had given him, but Steve didn’t move.

“Honey, stop. Please,” Carol begged her husband from the table, but her pleas were ignored.

“My entire life, all you’ve been is gone," Steve leveled. "You were never there for me, especially when I needed you the most, and, honestly? I don’t care what you think, Dad. Not anymore.” Steve pushed himself to his full height, at least a full two inches taller than his father, and shouldered past him, “We’re out of here.”

“Stevie, sweetheart don’t go,” Carol finally stood from her chair, coming around to paw at Steve’s back. “You know how he gets, he just needs to walk it off—“

“—stop making excuses for him, mom. He doesn’t deserve it and you deserve better.”

Carol kept grabbing at him and it made something snap inside you.

“Don’t touch him,” you said firmly, pressing a hand into hers and tugging it away from Steve. The look on her face then was like you’d slapped her and a tiny pinch of guilt squeezed in your chest, but Gary made sure to fix that, his voice at your backs.

“If you leave, that’s it, Steven! Game over!” he shouted.

“I don’t want it, Dad.”

“I’m serious! One more step and you’re written out of the company!” Gary said just as you both reached the door, Steve’s hand on the handle as he spun around to make sure he made eye contact with his dad.

“Where’s the paper? I’ll write it myself!” Steve snapped and for the first time that evening Gary was rendered speechless, mouth dropped open in shock. “If you break down, don’t call me.”

Pride swelled in your chest and you had to keep from whooping and hollering right there in the foyer, but as soon as you both were safely on the other side of the thick, wooden, double doors you flung your arms around him.

“Holy shit, babe,” you breathed, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the warm, citrusy scent of his cologne setting you at ease as his arms squeezed at your waist. Pulling away, you clasped his face between your hands. “First? I’m so sorry,” you said, shaking your head, running your thumb gently over his cheek, “And second? You were amazing in there, standing up for yourself.”

Steve turned a deep shade of pink, clearing his throat as his eyes dropped down to look at his shoes. “No way, that was awful.”

“It was,” you agreed, leading him slowly back to the truck, “But I’ve never seen you defend yourself, your hard work, like that. It’s not something to disregard.”

“You think so?” he asked the steering wheel after settling onto the bench seat next to you, the truck rumbling to life when he turned the key over.

Lifting a hand to the strong line of his jaw you gently turned his head to look at you.

“I know so,” you said softly, “And I love you and the way you take care of me, so damn much.”

His lashes fluttered, blinking away the starts of his tears, and smiled through it. No one had ever stood by his side the way you had just now. Had pushed through all the bullshit from his family and didn't shy away from it all. It meant more to him than he could ever put into words, so he settled for the truth.

“I love you too," he said, leaning into you with a hand pressed to your thigh and holding your cheek in his other. “I love you,” he said again, a soft whisper as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” another to your cheek. “I love you,” his mouth meeting the corner of yours. “I love you,” his bottom lip catching yours perfectly, sweetly, “I love you.”

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[forthelostones]

𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 ➺ 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 #8

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. guys, you're awesome that's for supporting me. i've recently stopped using grammarly for a more real writing experience. so if things are wonky, just know thats why! no more ai help.

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. want me by chloe x halle ♫

You stumble through Ms. Anderson’s living room to find a spare blanket hidden somewhere in the darkness. With the terms you and Ellie are on, it wouldn’t be wise to have her pick you up tonight. Especially since you hadn’t told her you were hired by Abigail as her assistant. Not that she had outwardly admitted she had issues with Abby, but you knew Ellie more than anyone else — she was jealous. It was going to come up sooner or later considering you will have to see her on site but for now, you just needed to sleep.

You check in the corner near the massive bookshelf to find an ottoman hiding a fluffy black comforter. You creep through the house to search for the bathroom but not before you check on her. So, as the door opens and you see a snoring Abby sprawled out messily on her large bed, hair flaring on the silk pillowcase, mouth open and one arm hanging off the bed. You walk to close her curtains and take her now empty water glass with you out of the room. You handle it carefully and set it on a countertop. You wanted her. You craved her differently than you did Ellie. It was foolish but when her eyes hovered over your body today, you knew she wanted something from you. You don’t think she even knew what it was, if it was sex, companionship, or both, it was something. Something you had to find out.

This often happened, you thought, a mature woman could increase your curiosity easily and swiftly. They forced you to compare your relationship with Ellie to them and wonder how was it truly to fuck someone who knew exactly what they were doing. And Ms. Anderson knew exactly what she was doing. Staring at your curves so intently, and piercing your soul with those heavy eyes every chance she got. It felt good to watch the handsome woman admire you and possibly reminisce about her former self. Suddenly warm, you linger on to find her bathroom and flickered on the light. 

The tiling was navy and white hexagons layered up and down the length of the room. On the left just as you entered was a wall with five inch deep shelving embedded in it. She was so organized, items sat in small matching boxes, not overfilled but just enough. It amazed you. All black boxes sat on three shelves neatly labeled with their contents: medical, personal, and hair. You close the door softly and pick through the first two baskets, trying to not disturb their contents. Beside the shelves on the opposite wall is a small window that is slightly open, probably to help with the moisture and it’s covered in privacy film. Her neighborhood was noisy with a variety of buzzing lightning bugs and cicadas.

Next to it is the wide shower encased in reflective glass spanning almost half of the rooms size. Inside were waterproof shelves holding more of Abby’s products and a wooden showering bench. Finally, you turn to the mirror that faces the shower directly and begin to wash your face off in the sink. The summertime was unforgiving and you started to feel it — sticky neck and a damp back was motivation enough to risk a shower and have her realize you never left. 

Your fingers trace Abby’s usual products, not that you were shocked but you did crack a smile at the common theme of vanilla. You fold your clothes and place it on the sink and begin to lather a small dollop of her body wash into your skin. The water pressure was lush and the heat alone was hotter than you were used to but it felt so soothing, so right.

What would it be like to shower with Ms. Anderson on the days you’d spend the night? Her wide, wet hands tracing against your spine and wrapping around your waist to pull you into her needy body. Spreading warm, bubbly soap over your breasts and gently wrapping her fingers around your neck. A soft sigh escapes you as you fantasize about the woman who owns this house — who practically built it. You could slip into her bedroom right now and confess. 

But what was there to confess to Abby? That you had a crush on the woman? Or that you saw how easy it was for her to lead and how much that turned you on… ridiculous. This wasn’t unusual, you had crushes in your life and you thought that was normal. The girl from Chemistry, the TA in Philosophy, or your English professor, it was interesting to see people differently and fantasize. But there was a different level with Abby, you thought about her, not just in the moments you see her but after. Pondering on the what-ifs, you wanted her to see you differently than she did now. 

You finally turned the water off and stepped out onto the fluffy shower mat, mirror evenly steamed up and a creeping realization that you were standing naked in your new boss’ home. The comfort was over and now the feeling became intrusion, you were out of your mind. A creaking noise outside of the door awakened your senses further, the noise in your head was your heart. Air-drying would have to do. Back in your clothes and in her living room asylum was found under the down-feather cover. It shouldn’t feel this good doing something this bad, staying without invitation, but you knew she wouldn’t mind. To wake up to a relaxed, totally open you on her couch because your safety was her main priority. 

A warm morning sun welcomed you out of a slumber of fantasies and one of reality. You were inside Ms. Anderson’s house, lying down as if you were at a sleepover. You sat up immediately once you heard a familiar step pad down the hallway to empty into the living room. Abby rubs her eyes awake and stretches. That tight, white shirt pressed against her body deliciously, exposing her frigid nipples that were punctured with rings. You blink ferociously, hoping you were awake and not dreaming. The protruding metal laid perfectly flush against the fat of her breast, outlining a small circle on each nipple. The sensation filling your mouth could only be described as mouthwatering. 

“Oh, hi?” She yawns. 

“Good morning, I slept here bec—” 

“It’s alright, I know. It was nice what you did,” she leaned on the door frame. “I don’t deserve it but I’m thankful, so thank you.” 

You begin to fold the duvet, your clothes were tucked in awkward positions, exposing thigh and shoulder, a chill carried over you. “It really was not problem, I wanted to make sure you didn’t miss your meeting this morning that you told me about, remember?” You flush. 

“Right,” 

The woman took a hand through her hair to clean herself up. Her stomach popped a bit over her waistband revealing lingering sprawl of light hair towards the center of her belly. Those thighs filled out her boxers wonderfully and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from them, hoping one day you'd be able to be crushed in between —

“Technically you don’t start until next week.” Abby covers her chest with her forearms suddenly feeling insecure. 

“I know but seeing you last night made me worry that you wouldn’t wake up this early.” You smiled. 

Abby just nodded her head, unsure of what to say next. 

“I’m sorry for that, it was completely unlike me.” 

The distance between you both felt vast, like you were on two opposing continents, like you did something wrong. 

“Clearly, you have a lot on your mind.” You mutter gently. 

Abby directs you into the kitchen where she opens up her small windows to air the house out and start a fresh pot of coffee, her gray fuzzy house shoes scratching against the hardwood. 

“Why don’t you come along with me today, to my client meeting? It’ll be training.” 

You stood with your back against her cool fridge and peered down at your current attire. It would be much better than walking around the neighborhood today with mom and a potential argument with Ellie festering. “That could be perfect but I need to wear something more up to par with you.” 

A laugh bellowed from Abby’s plump belly. 

“I wear ten year old cargo pants and tee shirts but whatever you say. You want a cup?” 

You just nod at the pure persuasion of the fresh, hot coffee infiltrating the air. 

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet though.” 

“Right, um I left one in the bathroom for you, extras from the dentists should do the job.” 

꒰ঌ ໒꒱

It hadn’t slipped out of your mind that Abby said her clients mom was interested in meeting her daughter. Abigail appeared as if she had fought a million hangovers before in her life, she was glowing. Her farce about cargo pants and t-shirts went out the window this morning when she slicked her hair in a low braid, perfectly french-ed onto her scalp. Although the outfit was a bit outdated, she looked as daring as ever, dark green button down top with cropped sleeves and black chino pants. She was actively trying to looking good. She was kind enough to take you back home to change and get ready for the day. It all worked out since she had to check up on the current project. 

“I really appreciate your family for thinking of me yesterday. It’s rare that clients think so highly of us construction workers. The most we get are drinks but no one thinks about the actual energy that we exert and how high our food intake is.” 

How were you to tell her it was mostly you, not your parents, they were just the willing party. 

“Of course, I’m glad you enjoyed it, seemed like you really need it.” 

Abby’s posture changed but her eyes stayed forward. 

“You’re a great chef.” She turned slightly to connect with you. She needed you to understand how deeply she admired how you took care of her, since the first interaction. She wanted to be clear about what her words meant, they weren't empty, or so you hoped.

“Thank you, hopefully I can cook for you again.” You say, poking an already anxious bear.

[throughparisallthroughrome]

"Got the Blues Back in Boston"

Chapter 1

Pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Description: Leaving behind an incompatible college and profound heartbreak on the Virginia Coast, you find yourself home again in Brookline, Massachusetts. A new opportunity presents itself to you at MIT, joining your brother ben and childhood friends/neighbors, Anakin and Ahsoka. Despite the familiarity, you discover just how much of a difference 2 years away can really make between the people you once considered family.

Warnings:f!reader, angst, jealousy, pining, smut, masturbation, mentions/descriptions of domestic abuse, cursing, drinking/drug usage, academic obsession, general obsession, hardcore partying, frats, general college bullshit

DISCLAIMER!!! READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: I’ve never been in an abusive relationship- I’ve only witnessed them. I’m an aspiring psychology major and have done a lot of research on the topic of domestic abuse/violence. This series deals with this topic HEAVILY, so be warned. 

Word Count: 6.3k A/N: First chapter is up! I'm sorry it took so long, I was really hoping to nail a certain feel and aesthetic with this series, and I really hope that translates. I'm probably gonna post the playlist I listen to while writing this because it does have a lot of influence on the story and everything. Please let me know if you wish to be tagged! Requests and ask box is open, and any/all criticism is welcome! Thank you for reading and supporting me <3

masterlist.

The drive to Brookline was always a hassle. Whether it was crossing the scary bridge along the coast of Virginia or through New York City—knowing that you’d still never been—it always ached. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been home in two years—and you missed Boston. 

Piled high in the back of your black Ford Focus was the last two years of your life that you could fit. You left behind everything else. 

The forest that encompassed you on I-95 offered a clearer perspective on your situation. As devastating as it had been, your new beginning after high school was not quite what you expected it to be. Hampton was a lovely place; the beaches were excellent, the people friendly, and there was always something to do. Somewhere to go. You made decent money working as a cocktail waitress in a club near your apartment, which is how you met Nick.

Tall, with a handsome face and a charm that was impossible to resist, Nick was the kind of man you couldn't help but be drawn to. He had a gorgeous smile and a body sculpted from the gods. The night you met him, he smooth-talked his way into your bed, introducing himself as Nicholas, saying how he never met someone as beautiful as you. The other waitresses just didn’t compare. And the rest was history. Were you usually the type to sleep with someone on the first date (if you could call it that)? Definitely not. But something about him was so captivating. 

But as the trees passed you by and your grip on your steering wheel tightened, you felt a tear fall onto your shaking hands. What happened to the Nick you loved? What went wrong? Who did you both turn into? Besides, the whole thing going south was your fault- you both knew that. You wanted too much; you let those men flirt, and you were never there for him. You never did what he asked. And you’d never amount to anything. At least, that’s what Nick always told you- and part of you was inclined to believe it. 

Your heart ached at the loss. The 11-hour drive was increasingly painful by the second, only two hours in and not even through the first city. The morning sun beamed in your eye as your car trudged through the wetlands, bathed in its golden hue.1 In the distance, you could make out the skyline of DC, the first city you needed to travel through.

It was nice in DC. You had attended a few times in the past. On one of the many family vacations you took throughout the years, you, your parents, and the Skywalkers had all made a trip together to that specific destination. You intentionally took the longer way home to ensure you remember it all. Besides, the Delaware Peninsula was far from interesting. And you needed the time to think- and probably mentally prepare yourself for what you’d arrive at.

The most exciting part of the trip was Baltimore, Philly, and NYC back to back. Despite sitting in mind-numbing traffic a lot of times, there was always something to look at. And people-watching was always your favorite. You felt your heart hurt, wishing for the opportunities that these cities could bring. As New York City and Hartford disappeared in the rearview mirror, the approaching Boston skyline sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat. And there was the traffic.

You shakily reached for a cigarette out of your purse as your car came to a stop, breaking your own promise that you wouldn’t smoke in the car you bought. A wide smile spread across your face as you lit the cigarette, your body relaxing as the sweet scent filled the air. Naturally, your mind went straight to Anakin. Whenever you tasted cigarettes, it was impossible not to think of him and the bittersweet moments you shared. After all, he started your bad habit. Once again, your hands shook. Did he ever think about you while you were gone? You were close, but he was also an incredible pain in your ass. And what if he and Padme suddenly got back together? Ahsoka would have told you, right? Maybe. 

She would have told you. 

The familiar streets of Brookline outstretched before you, energetic and alive, instantly flooding your mind with cheerful memories that brought a grin to your face. Your smile widened across your face as you glanced at the familiar sports bar on the corner, reminiscing about the laughter and friendships you developed during your time as a hostess in high school. You turned the corner at the next light, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as the vibrant lights of the movie theater danced before your eyes, eliciting the sweet nostalgia of your god-awful first kiss. You weren’t expecting little Tommy to stick his tongue down your throat in 7th grade. As you approached Emerson Garden, a bittersweet ache tugged at your heart, memories of laughter and familiarity flooding your mind—the memories it held. 

The streetlights flickered as you turned down the most familiar road of all. You bit your lip in anticipation and ignored the urge to light another cigarette right then and there- your mom didn’t need to know about your filthy habit (although she smoked, too). The soft melodies of Radiohead and the laughter echoed from the back porch as you parked in the driveway. Gazing at the house with a smile, you felt a hint of excitement about reclaiming your old room. It had been far too long. 

The porch light turned on, and out ran Ahsoka, not even giving you a chance to turn your car off.

“You motherfucker!” She yelled, opening the car door and throwing her arms around you as you laughed, “It’s been so fucking long!” 

You looked back at her, pulling the beanie off her head and giggling, “Well, don’t tell the others, but I only came back for you.”

“Shut up,” she stands up, pulling you up with her, “Get your ass inside.” You laugh and salute her, following her through the familiar corridors of your house and into the kitchen. 

“Shut the FUCK up. She’s real!” Your mom squealed and quickly set her wine down, embracing you as if you’d be gone in an instant. “Never leave me like that again.” She pulls away and laughs, her tone laced with a hint of seriousness. 

“Never.” You promised, smiling wide before your dad caught your attention, tossing you a beer and shooting a wink in your direction. Although he wasn't typically sentimental, you could tell he missed you. 

“Where are the boys?” you asked, opening the can and drinking the bitter liquid. “Jesus Christ, Miller Lite never gets better, does it?” You squinted your eyes in disgust, giggling at your own reaction. 

“Nope, thought I taught you better than that.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. “They’re outside with Cliegg and Shmi.”

“Okay, sweet, I’ll go say hello.” You motion towards the back door, catching a glimpse of Ben from the back porch. 

“Hey,” He grabs your arm before you can turn to leave. “We missed you. I hope you’re okay. Ahsoka didn’t give us any details, but she said things really went to shit in Hampton. I just want to make sure you know you always have a home here, and we will do what we can to make it better, okay?” 

You nodded and smiled before practically running out the back door, forgetting exactly what you were throwing yourself into. 

“You fucker, you cheated!” Anakin yells, throwing down his cards as Ben takes a swig of his beer and laughs. 

“I’m afraid you just have an awful poker face, Anakin.” He sets his cards down and stands up, turning to face you with a smile. “There she is. About time you graced us with your presence.” 

You give a shrug before embracing Ben tightly, fighting back tears welling up in your eyes. You and Ben were close, and you knew that if he found out what happened, it would devastate him. He and Anakin were always there to keep you safe, but you had a distinct sibling connection. He knew you too well, always able to read your thoughts with uncanny accuracy. 

“You okay?” He pulled away and whispered, searching your sad eyes.

“Yeah, just tired. Long ass drive. Took the long way this time.” You sniffled, and he nodded in response, letting go and pulling a chair out between Anakin and what you assumed was Ahsoka’s chair. With a quiet thank you on your lips, you raised your beer to your mouth and took a long, satisfying gulp, feeling a gentle buzz settle in. 

“So, you’re back.” Anakin avoids eye contact, shuffling the cards before him as Ahsoka stifles a laugh. “Took you long enough.”

“Anakin!” Shmi scolds, noticing how his lips turn into a smirk, “You know he missed you, Y/N. He’s just a sore loser. Ben’s kicked his ass at poker three times now.” 

“Ah,” You nod, a grin spreading across your face, “He just doesn’t want to admit he sucks at poker- OW!” You feel a sudden impact as Anakin's foot forcefully meets the top of yours, causing you to shoot a glare in his direction. His eyes remain fixed on the cards, completely disregarding your look, while he bites down on his lip, trying to contain his amusement. "Sore loser indeed," you mutter under her breath, shaking her head in annoyance as you pick up the cards he handed you.

Of course, the hand was awful. You weren’t sure how you’d make it out of this alive. Family poker nights were a tradition started by your parents and the Skywalkers, which you were all quickly introduced to by your 10th birthday. Once you hit double digits, you were old enough to gamble. Ahsoka was always the best, but you had a habit of making a comeback when people least expected it. And you had a great poker face- Anakin did not. Anakin had a habit of wearing every thought and emotion on his sleeve his entire life. Shmi always swore it would be his downfall- as a child, you thought she was just talking about his downfall at poker. But once you got older, you quickly understood. 

When you discovered his breakup with Padme, you felt like maybe part of you understood. But you never really knew why they broke up. Everyone just told you, “They were better off as friends,” and that was all you knew. Did you want the real story? Absolutely. But part of you was worried about what he’d tell you. You knew better than to get involved in Anakin’s love life, and deep down, a part of you didn’t want to taint the image you had always had of him in your mind.

“Heard you finally got into MIT,” Anakin breaks the silence and your train of thought as he pushes a couple of chips into the center of the table, “Congratulations, although I’ve never heard of anyone going to MIT for an Archeology degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh. 

“There it is.” You giggle as everyone groans, setting their cards down as they fold. 

“There’s what?” He shoots you a disapproving glare.

“You’ve never given me a compliment without an insult. Was waiting for it.” You shrug, laying down your cards, “Full house.” Anakin’s jaw drops as you pull all the chips in your direction. 

“Shit,” He mutters, setting his cards down and laying his head on the table as he groans loudly in annoyance, “Fucking done with this game.”

“And so are we,” Shmi motions Cliegg to stand, “Love you guys. Have fun. Good to have you back, sweetheart.” Shmi kisses your head as Cliegg ruffles your hair before leaving to say goodnight to your parents. 

“Mhm,” you hum, finishing the last of your beer, “and plenty of people go to MIT for archeology. It’s a great school. Besides, it’s about time I joined you all there. And it’s only a 15-minute drive. Speaking of- how’s biochemical engineering going, little one?” With a gentle tap on Ahsoka's knee, she reluctantly tears her gaze away from her phone and responds with an eye roll.

“Fucking awful! I love what I’m studying; the school is incredible- just so much work. I’m so tired. I have time for nothing!” She groans and sinks further into her chair while you, Anakin, and Ben burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Coming from a recent MIT graduate- it doesn’t get any better. Just wait until you get further into your major- Biochemical Engineering is far from easy.” Ben offers her a smile while you and Anakin continue giggling. 

“And on that note,” You stand up, shaking your empty can, “I’m getting something stronger than this Miller.” 

As you enter the house, a soft purr fills the air as your familiar furry companion, Giz, wraps himself around your legs. You squat down on the floor and feel the warmth of his fur as you pet him, "Missed you, little guy."

“He missed you too.” Your mom leans against the doorway, handing you an obnoxiously full glass of wine. “Had a feeling you came in for this. Are we gonna talk about what happened?” 

You sigh, standing up and rubbing your hands on your thighs. “Now’s not really the time or place, Mom. I just got here. The last thing I wanna think about is that.” You grab the glass out of her hand and attempt to turn around before her hand is on your shoulder, pulling you back. 

“Not so fast.” You turn around and meet her concerned eyes, your hands feeling more sweaty than they did a minute ago. “Y/N, no one just up and leaves their entire life for the past two years suddenly without something major happening. I know you haven’t told anyone- and I know the last thing you want to do is talk about it- but please, for the love of God, talk to someone. We can all tell something is off. You’re not yourself, honey. We care about you- and we’re concerned. As much as I’m so fucking happy to have you back, I know something bad happened, and I want to be there for you.” 

“Mom,” You put your hand on her shoulder, fighting back tears with a smile. “You’re doing enough. I just want to have a good time, focus on being in my dream school, and g-get my life back together, okay?” 

“O-okay,” she nods, her voice laced with apprehension as she turns away from you and back into the kitchen, “Pasta on the stove if you want it!” 

“Thanks!” you yell, shutting the back door behind you and sighing loudly as you plop back into your chair, earning an eyebrow raise from everyone, “I’m here for an hour and she’s already bugging me.”

“She just loves you, Y/N/N.” Ben tries to reason, and you feel your leg bounce. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, fidgeting with the poker chips on the table.

“So,” Anakin leans forward, opening another beer, “You and that guy still together? What was his name.. Harry? James?”

“Nick.” You answer for him, unconsciously biting your lip. “And no, we’re not.” Everyone’s ears suddenly perked up at the confession, the consensus being just how little they knew about your life. 

“Damn, what’d you do?” Anakin jokes, searching your face for a smile, only to be met with nothing.

“Ha. Good one.” You chuckle under your breath, your lips forming into a frown.

As soon as Anakin brought up Nick, you lost interest in the conversation. Nick never met the family; you only told them about him over the phone while you were gone. He had always insisted that your life was meant to be in Hampton with him, where you would create something new together. You didn’t need to return home to your family; if you did, you’d be leaving him all alone. Holidays and significant moments came and went, and all the while, you were stuck at a college you loathed, sharing your life with a man you mistakenly believed was the one.  

During your nights in Hampton, you and Nick would often find yourselves curled up on the couch, indulging in excessive drinking while he introduced you to various illicit substances. You pretended to enjoy soccer and cocaine, drinking more tequila than you needed. Shot after shot, followed by line after line, you barely knew who you were. He constantly told you how pretty you were, how you were made for him, but if you forgot to run to the liquor store that day, he would treat you as if you were dead to him. Nick offered little in return for your support, except for empty assurances that the life you would build together would make it all worthwhile. Nick's behavior took a downward spiral as he began staying late at work and arriving home in a drunken stupor. From that point on, things spiraled out of control. 

And maybe a part of you once loved Nick, but now you felt suffocated in the relationship. And when you tried to bring things up to him, he’d tell you that you were a cheap whore who was only made to be his personal fuck toy. And just like that, the conversation came to an end. The coercion left, and he started to force you to use the drugs he’d use, tell you to skip class, skip tests, skip your job- you were losing yourself within him, and you were worried about the consequences if you didn’t let it happen. He was always a kind, sweet, romantic boy- but he could be so, so evil. 

And you’ll never forget the first time he hit you, the sound of his hand connecting with your skin echoing in your ears. As you sat on the counter, the alcohol made your vision blur, and your head throbbed as if it was about to explode. You were already at your limit, and the last thing you wanted was to do was another line. Your nose was already starting to bleed a little, and he begged and begged for you to keep going- telling you he needed it. He didn’t want to do it alone- you had to do it. As you stubbornly declined once more, a sudden, fiery sting seared across your cheek, causing your nose to finally bleed and droplets of blood to stain your thigh. He apologized profusely, waiting on you hand and foot as he cleaned you up, held your hair as you puked, washed you, and still talked you into sex- but it had happened. You knew you needed to leave, or your life could be at stake. 

“Y/N?” Ben asks, and you break out of your Nick-induced trance with a sharp gasp, your eyes glossy and lips bloody from your nervous tic. 

“I’ll be back.” You stand back up, taking a concerningly long swig from the wine before exiting out the back gate and into the driveway. 

“I’m really concerned about her.” Ben watches you leave and bites his lip. Ahsoka nods along with him. “Listen, as happy as I am to have her back, something’s not right. As her brother, I just- I fear the worst. She’s not herself.” 

“Did you see the way she reacted when you asked about Nick?” Ahsoka whispered, leaning in to closer to the table, “Something had to have happened.”

“Wait.” Anakin says, as he and Ben both turn to face her, their brows furrowed in confusion and concern, “Ahsoka, you don’t know anything either? She’s your best friend.”

“I- I know nothing. And I hate it.” She confesses to the boys, the air growing thick as Anakin uncomfortably shifts in his seat, and Ben sighs.

“I think I’m gonna try to talk to her.” Anakin stands slowly as Ben raises a brow and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes.

“Anakin, no offense, but I doubt she’ll want to talk to you,” Ahsoka murmured, avoiding his scowl. 

“Well,” he pushes the chair behind him, walking towards the gate. “We’ll see!” 

Curled up in the Papasan chair on the porch, you lit the joint between your fingers and watched as the lights in your neighbor's windows turned off. Your thoughts drifted from Nick and onto the childhood you missed dearly—so many snowball fights on the street before you, bike rides, and scraped knees. You remember the Johnsons across the street particularly not liking Anakin, so you and Ahsoka egged their house, only to backfire and get Anakin in trouble. You confessed to doing it, and no one believed you. It had to be Anakin. But for some strange reason, he never cared. He accepted the punishment, mowed their yard for a year, and never brought it up to you, no matter how many times you apologized. And every apology that slipped from between your lips was met with a grin. 

And that time in 7th grade when Ahsoka really got into it with Julie down the street. She never liked Ahsoka and always found a way to get under her skin. However, this time was particularly awful. When you found Ahsoka, she was sobbing on the corner while Julie laughed at her, calling her pathetic, telling her that even her adopted parents didn’t love her and that her big brother wasn’t there to save her now. But you were. You pushed Julie onto the grass so fucking hard, only for her to get back up and swing. Ahsoka screamed for you to stop, but a newfound rage took over as you pounded into Julie’s face. She ended up on the pavement with a broken nose, and you ended the fight with a fractured wrist and grounded for a month (Only a month because your mom found out who you fought and what she said). Anakin was waiting for Ben to return from tennis and heard the commotion. He ran down the street, finding Ahsoka sobbing, Julie on the pavement, bloody and teary, and you sitting on the corner, shaking and clutching your throbbing wrist in your hand. He instantly asked Ahsoka what happened before making his way to you, holding your wrist, picking you up, and taking you and Ahsoka back to your house. Your mom called Julie’s mom and talked about what happened, and fortunately, Julie confessed to everything. And that’s when you found out her parents were going through a nasty divorce, and Julie was starting therapy. And surprisingly, she actually grew into a really decent, respectable person. 

The four of you had always done everything together. You had always been inseparable. And when you left, it tore that apart. You left a hole in Brookline, and you knew it as well as they did. Even though they swore they were happy for you, moving on and doing more, you could see in their eyes that they selfishly did not want you to leave. They didn’t like the years of friendship to be put on hold just like that. And, of course, you felt guilty about it all, but you thought you needed to get out of Brookline. You assumed you wanted something bigger than Boston, bigger than you, bigger than those childhood friends. And two years later, you realize just how naïve you were. Those were your lifelong friends; your life was in Boston, and your dream school was there, too. You missed them more than you could ever envision, and the guilt ate at you every single fucking day. And you wished that 19-year-old you had just stayed. Things would be so much simpler if you had stayed. You let some pathetic man in Hampton tell you that it was just you and him- forever. And you knew deep down your 19-year-old naive self didn’t believe a fucking word he said- she just wished she did.  

“Oh, that’s not a cigarette.” Your eyes flicker up from the street and towards a drunken Anakin leaning against the patio rail in front of you. His lips were curled into a mischievous smile, his hair curly and messy. 

“No,” You lean forward, handing him the joint, “No, it’s not.” 

“So,” He took a quick draw from the joint, flicking it against the deck railing as he looked back at you and smiled, “You just got here, and you’re already running from us? What’s up with that?” 

You scoff, snatching the joint from him and leaning back in the chair. 

“Just wanted some alone time, is all.” You avoid his gaze, and it’s his turn to scoff, plopping himself next to you in the chair. 

“Yeah, because you’ve been so fond of that your entire life. I don’t believe you.” 

“And? Never said I cared that you did.” You quickly retorted, earning an eyebrow raise and a smirk. 

“Relax,” he said, snatching the joint back from you and holding it hostage. “Talk to me. It’s just us.” His hand met yours; his gaze was intense and empathetic. 

You weren’t sure why you wanted to tell him. It was probably the weed mixed with a bit of liquid courage, but in that moment, you needed to get it out. He was so welcoming, holding your hand and offering you the comfort you needed in that moment. Was it pure manipulation? Possibly. But you knew Anakin loved you just as much as you loved him, and you knew you could trust him. He had kept your secrets before, so what’s another one? However, none of those other secrets typically included an abusive relationship; it was mainly about Ben and Ahsoka. You gripped his hand back, watching his eyes soften and his lips curve into a small smile.

“Just-” You started, dropping your voice into a low murmur, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” He looked into your eyes like he would die to protect your secret. That was precisely what you needed to see. 

“Nick- uh- sorry,” You sniffled, rubbing your eyes as you searched for the right words. “He- uh- he hurt me—a lot. I barely made it out of that relationship in one piece. I think my breaking point was when I asked him to visit for your grandma’s funeral, and he knocked me out. I woke up in my bathtub, my face covered in my blood, and he was gone. I applied to MIT that morning. The day after I got in, I packed everything I could and left. He’s blocked on everything, and he hasn’t attempted to reach out in any sort of way. Anakin- I don’t know what would have happened to me if I didn’t leave.”

Your eyes met Anakin’s glossy ones as your hands shook underneath his touch. He crooked his head to the side, bringing you in for a much-needed hug. You let yourself cry softly in his arms, feeling his shaky hands rub in slow motions up and down your back, his other hand stroking the top of your scalp.

 But when he looked back at you, the softness in his gaze had disappeared. His fists clenched at his side, his eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip in frustration. 

“A-Anakin?” 

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell anybody? We would’ve come to help! We could have put that piece of shit in jail by now!” He stands up abruptly, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing deeply. 

“I-I’m sorry- I-” You stutter, your mind racing as he paces before you. His eyes meet yours, and he points at you as your heartbeat accelerates.

“Y/N, I swear to god- I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. He’s fucking dead. I don’t care what hap-” He stops momentarily, cut off by your sobs from the chair. Fuck. He’s yelling at a domestic violence victim- no- he’s yelling at you. What a fucking asshole. 

“HeyHeyHeyHey-” He’s quickly on his knees in front of you, shushing and brushing your hair out of your face, “I’m so fucking sorry- that was so selfish of me to do. I shouldn’t have said or done any of that. You opened up to me, and I yelled at you.. that will never happen again, okay? Why don’t we get you to bed?” He held your hands in his, searching your red eyes for an answer as you quickly nodded. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go say goodnight to everyone, you just hold tight here. Sound good?” You nodded once again, and he giggled. “Words, sweetheart. I need you to say something.”

“That’s what I want, Ani. Bed.” You mumble out, forming your lips into a sad smile. His heart broke at the sight of you. 

The second the back gate opened back up, Ben and Ahsoka immediately shot out of their chairs at the sight of Anakin. Their interrupted conversation suddenly had no meaning as he entered, taking a quick seat next to them.

“She’s- uh- she’s pretty upset. And fucked up. I’m gonna take her to bed.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair as Ben and Ahsoka looked at him, puzzled. 

“Well, what happened? Is she okay? Does she need help?” Ahsoka frantically broke the silence, asking the questions she and Ben were both thinking. 

“Listen, she’s in rough shape right now. I’m just gonna get her to sleep, and I’ll tell you guys all about it. I don’t even know if she’s done talking about it. I’ll be right back.” 

“Y/N?” He calls out your name as he steps on the other side of the gate, jogging up the front porch to see you passed out in the chair, joint hanging loosely from your fingers. 

Amused, he grabs the roach from your fingers and casually tosses it off the porch, letting out a small laugh. Clearly, you didn't waste any time before drifting off to sleep. All the crying and weed must have done something. As he crouches down beside you, he tenderly brushes your hair, his eyes filled with adoration as he looks at your sleeping figure. 

“I’m so sorry about everything,” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sighing softly, “I know you’re going to hate me for what I’m gonna do. Just please know it’s in your best interest. I care about you so much.” He bites his lip in thought, his eyes searching your figure.

As he rises to his feet, he effortlessly swipes your phone and tucks it away, his eyes briefly glancing at your water bottle. With a tender gesture, he reaches his arms beneath you, drawing you close to his chest and ensuring the blanket envelops you snugly as he lifts you from the chair. Your head is cradled against his chest, his hand wrapped around your waist and under your knees. 

Anakin carried you gently up the stairs of your house, each step creaking under the weight of his feet. Passing through the familiar corridors, he reached your bedroom door and pushed it open, immediately being overwhelmed by the alluring scent of your space. As he laid you down on your bed, he couldn't help but notice how little the room had changed since you left, the same photos on the walls and the same worn-out rug. Your mom kept everything intact, probably hoping you’d come back eventually. He filled your water bottle, plugged your phone in, left some medicine on your nightstand, and tucked you in tightly. Just as he turned on the fan and kissed your forehead goodnight, your eyes fluttered open to meet with his, and you gave him a sleepy smile. 

“Ani?” You mumbled, watching as his smile grew above you. 

“Hey, sweetheart, feeling pretty sleepy, huh?” 

“Mhm,” You stretched your arms out momentarily as you yawned. “I’m sorry I dropped all of that on you earlier. And I’m just- I’m sorry about it all. I feel so-”

“Y/N,” He gets on his knees next to you, the warmth in his eyes matching the tender smile on his lips, “You don’t need to apologize for a thing. I’m always here. And so are Ben and Ahsoka. We got you. You take as much time as you need to process, recover, and do whatever you need to, okay? It’s about you, Y/N/N, don’t worry about us.” You giggle and nod at his words, your eyes attempting to flutter shut. He laughs at your exhaustion, ruffling up the hair on your head. “Sleep well, okay? I’ll be here if you need me.” 

He closes your door and leans against the door frame, exhaling heavily as he tries to make sense of everything that happened throughout the night. How could someone be so fucking despicable to do this to you? His girl. His fists clenched tightly at his waist, his eyes burning with rage as he vividly imagined the torment you endured. He tried not to let his mind go there. He really did. Resting against your bedroom door, vivid visions of you, covered in blood and pleading for help, overwhelmed him, plunging him into a downward spiral. And in a moment of weakness, he did exactly what he promised he wouldn’t do.

“She was abused. Badly.”

“WHAT?”

Ben and Ahsoka jump from their seats on the porch, rushing towards Anakin as he angrily makes his way from the house onto the deck. 

“That fucking piece of shit!” Ben shouts, punching his fist against the side of the house while Ahsoka tries to calm Anakin down, asking him for more details.

“Okay, Anakin, I need you to give me more than just ‘abused.’ I know you have details.” Ahsoka sputtered while she held the sides of his arms, guiding him over to the table to sit down while Ben paced behind them. 

“It was that asshole she was dating for the past two years- Nick. The one we conveniently never met, which I’m sure was on purpose. She didn’t tell me much other than that if she didn’t leave when she did, she could’ve- well- she- it just wouldn’t have ended well.”

Anakin's words hung in the air, creating a thick silence that was almost tangible with tension. Anakin's throat tightened as he locked eyes with Ben and Ahsoka, their glossy gazes reflecting their shared pain. Ben found a spot at the table, deep in thought, as he absentmindedly stroked his chin, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Ahsoka carefully finished the last of her wine, the cling! of it ringing out as the glass met the table one last time.  

“Well-” Ben tried to start, cut off by his sudden sobs. He pushed his head on the table, covering his face from Ahsoka and Anakin as he attempted to take deep breaths, processing the information he had just learned. In an effort to hold back tears, Anakin bit his lip, his hand trembling as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. As she silently wept, Ahsoka soothingly rubbed Ben's back, hoping to ease his pain.

“I just- I should have known.” She mumbled, picking the cat's hair off of the back of Ben’s sweater. 

“There’s no way you could’ve, Snips.” 

“It’s just that- I thought it was odd when she suddenly asked me to pick up her cat. Saying she couldn’t take care of him and that it was an emergency. I never even met Nick, and she wouldn’t let me stay at the apartment long. I hardly saw her. So many fucking red flags..” she trailed off, feeling her head hurt at the thought. 

“Ahsoka, it’s okay.” Ben sniffled, lifting his head off the table as his red eyes met Anakin’s. “There is no one at fault here other than Nick.”

"Exactly," Anakin paused momentarily at his comment, his eyes widening. “Guys, she made me promise I wouldn’t tell you. Considering everything, I think we should wait until she opens up. Even though it hurts, the last thing I’d want to do is hurt her anymore.”

“Yeah,” Ben whispers, and Ahsoka nods, holding onto each other as they try to calm down.  

“We should get to bed, guys. It’s 3:30.” Anakin mumbles as he stands up and stretches, offering his hand to Ahsoka. “We’ll see you soon, Ben. Get some rest.”

As he lay in bed, Anakin’s mind wandered off to you. How could it not? Besides being your best friend, he always looked for more in you. The knowledge weighed heavily on him, and he despised himself because of it. To him, you were his world, his everything. Always. And hearing/seeing how hurt you were? It fucking destroyed him. So, he let himself cry. He allowed himself to feel those emotions for you, and he always had buried them deep down. Instead, he buried his face in his pillow and soaked it with his tears. His admiration for you would never falter, and neither would his protectiveness. He felt as if a part of him failed, and as a result, his guard was down. He felt the desire to love you and keep you safe increased, knowing that getting the chance to do so may destroy him inside and out.

And it didn’t help that you lost your virginities to each other. Sharing such a unique, intimate moment with the person he always knew was the one, well, that just really fucked things. Literally. There wasn't a moment when he wasn't haunted by the memories of that night; it was a constant presence in his mind. And then he got with Padme, and you left for Virginia, and things got so lost and confused, and life moved on. You moved on. He tried to. But he searched for you in everyone and everything. Padme knew it, he knew it, fuck, his mother probably knew it! He’s just thankful Ben doesn’t know it. As much as he hated to say it, Anakin knew he would have gone back in time to do anything to change that moment. Because now you’re here, and his feelings have only intensified. Feelings that should have left a long, long time ago. And yet, as he cried himself to sleep, he continued to dream of you, just like every night before.

Please let me know if you wish to be tagged!

Series tags: @w0rsh1psells @ursogorgeous13 @tommyvelvet @mistress-amidala @queenofnigthdarkness @nikkissecretlibrary @doblasftcisco @ann4zw @catachlysmicjedi @googie-jeon @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo @anakinstwinklebunny

[elryuse]

How about another Babymonster member for a Yandere fic? 🤙

Setting: Younger sister's obsession with her unnie's fiance

Taking What's Mine

Yandere Asa X Male Reader

The day you proposed to Ruka was one of the happiest moments of your life. The memory of her tears streaming down her cheeks as she said “yes” was etched in your mind, a constant reminder of why you chose her. She was charismatic, caring, and incredibly beautiful. From the moment you met her, she had been your rock, always supporting you when you were at your lowest and never letting you feel alone.

Ruka wasn’t just your fiancée; she was your best friend, your confidant, and your safe haven. Every moment with her felt like a piece of a perfect puzzle falling into place.

But lately, something had been gnawing at you—a quiet unease that you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t Ruka. No, she was as loving and supportive as ever. It was someone else. Someone you had never expected to occupy your thoughts.

It was her younger sister, Asa.

---

You met Asa for the first time at Ruka’s family home. You and Ruka had been dating for a little over a year, and she thought it was time for you to meet her family. Ruka was excited, chattering about her parents and her younger sister the whole drive there.

“Asa’s a bit shy,” she warned you as you pulled up to the house. “She doesn’t really open up to people, so don’t take it personally if she’s a little distant.”

You assured her you wouldn’t.

When Ruka introduced you, Asa was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a book in her hands. She looked up briefly, her dark eyes flicking over you before she mumbled a quiet “Hi” and returned to her reading. Her long hair fell over her face, obscuring her features.

“She’s always like that,” Ruka whispered to you later, laughing softly. “Don’t worry, she’ll warm up to you eventually.”

At the time, you hadn’t given Asa much thought. She was quiet and reserved, her presence almost fading into the background compared to Ruka’s vibrant energy.

Over the next few months, Asa did start to open up—slowly, at first.

Ruka often shared stories about you with her family, and Asa seemed particularly interested in the ones about you overcoming challenges or doing something thoughtful for Ruka. Whenever you visited, you made a point of being kind to Asa, even bringing small gifts for her—nothing extravagant, just little things like a pack of her favorite snacks or a bookmark you thought she’d like.

“Thank you,” Asa said softly the first time you handed her a gift. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she avoided your gaze, but there was a faint blush on her cheeks.

“It’s nothing,” you said, brushing it off.

But Ruka noticed. “Wow, look at that! Asa’s actually smiling,” she teased, nudging her sister. Asa muttered something under her breath, but you couldn’t help noticing the way her lips curved ever so slightly.

As time passed, Asa became more comfortable around you. She started joining your conversations with Ruka, occasionally chiming in with a teasing remark or a sarcastic comment.

“You know, Ruka always brags about your cooking,” Asa said one evening. “But I’ve heard her complain about your burnt pancakes at least three times now.”

Ruka groaned, playfully swatting at her sister. “Traitor.”

You laughed, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie with Asa. Her wit was sharp, but it was never mean-spirited. If anything, it reminded you of Ruka’s playfulness, though Asa’s teasing carried a subtler edge.

At first, you thought her growing comfort around you was a good thing. Ruka was happy that you and her sister were getting along, and you didn’t see any harm in building a friendly relationship with Asa.

But there were moments—fleeting, almost imperceptible—when Asa’s behavior made you pause.

It started with the way she looked at you.

You didn’t notice it right away, but over time, you began to catch her staring at you when she thought you weren’t looking. Her gaze was intense, her dark eyes fixed on you with an almost unsettling focus.

Then there were the comments—subtle, but strange.

“Ruka’s so lucky to have you,” Asa said one day when Ruka was out of the room. Her tone was light, but there was something in her eyes that made you uneasy.

“I’m lucky to have her too,” you replied, trying to dismiss the odd tension.

Asa’s lips curved into a small smile. “Yeah... I bet you are.”

You shrugged it off at the time, but the unease lingered.

The text messages started a few weeks later.

At first, they were innocent enough. Asa would ask you questions about Ruka’s favorite flowers or suggest ideas for surprises she could plan for her sister. But then the messages became more personal.

“Do you ever feel like Ruka doesn’t appreciate you enough?” Asa asked one night.

You frowned at the screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “It’s just... you’re so thoughtful, and I feel like she doesn’t always notice. I guess I just think you deserve more credit.”

The comment made you uncomfortable, but you decided to let it slide. Asa was Ruka’s sister, after all. Maybe she was just looking out for you in her own way.

But Asa’s behavior only grew more unsettling.

She started finding excuses to be around you, even when Ruka wasn’t there. One evening, she showed up at your apartment unannounced, claiming she needed help picking out a birthday gift for Ruka.

“I just thought you’d know what she’d like best,” Asa said, her tone casual. But the way she lingered in the doorway, her eyes scanning your apartment, made you feel uneasy.

You helped her pick out a gift, but the interaction left you feeling on edge.

The breaking point came one evening when you and Ruka were having dinner at her family’s house.

Asa had been unusually quiet all night, her gaze flicking between you and Ruka with an intensity that made your skin crawl. At one point, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, and when you returned, you found Asa waiting for you in the hallway.

She stepped closer, her voice low. “You know, I’ve been thinking... you and I have a lot more in common than you and Ruka do.”

You stared at her, taken aback. “Asa, what are you talking about?”

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a small, almost predatory smile. “I just mean... you deserve someone who really understands you. Someone who sees you for who you are.”

Her words sent a chill down your spine. “Asa, I’m engaged to your sister.”

“I know,” she said, her tone eerily calm. “But that doesn’t mean you’re happy.”

You took a step back, your heart pounding. “I think you’re misunderstanding something.”

Asa’s smile faded, her expression darkening. “Am I?”

From that moment on, you couldn’t ignore the signs. The way Asa seemed to be everywhere you went. The little “coincidences” that always seemed to work in her favor. The note you found in your jacket pocket, written in a delicate, familiar handwriting:

“I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

Ruka noticed your unease, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth. How could you? Asa was her sister, and you didn’t want to be the one to drive a wedge between them.

But deep down, you knew this was only the beginning. Asa’s obsession was growing stronger, and you were caught in a dangerous game you couldn’t escape.

And the worst part? You didn’t know how far Asa was willing to go.

The cracks in Asa’s relationship with her family started small. Ruka didn’t notice at first, too wrapped up in wedding planning and her excitement about your future together. But you noticed.

It began with Asa’s cold responses to Ruka’s usual warmth. When Ruka would laugh and try to include Asa in conversations, Asa would respond with curt, dismissive remarks.

“Did you like the flowers Y/n picked out for the centerpiece?” Ruka asked one evening, smiling at Asa.

“They’re fine, I guess,” Asa said flatly, not even looking up from her phone.

Ruka’s smile faltered, but she brushed it off. “She’s just in a mood,” she whispered to you later.

But it wasn’t just a mood. Asa’s distance from Ruka only grew, and soon, it wasn’t limited to her sister. She began pulling away from her parents too, retreating into herself whenever they tried to engage her. The once shy but sweet Asa had become cold and unapproachable, and no one seemed to understand why.

You knew.

Asa started crossing lines you didn’t even know existed.

She began to show up at places where you should have had privacy—your workplace, your gym, even the coffee shop you liked to visit on your lunch breaks. At first, she played it off as a coincidence, offering a casual, “Oh, hey, I didn’t know you came here too.”

But the frequency of these “coincidences” was alarming.

One afternoon, you caught her standing outside your office building, leaning against the wall with a small smile on her lips.

“Asa? What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I was just in the area,” she said, shrugging as though it were the most normal thing in the world. “Thought I’d say hi.”

Her presence unsettled you, but you didn’t want to cause a scene.

The teasing started soon after.

She’d find little ways to make you uncomfortable, her comments always toeing the line between playful and inappropriate.

“Ruka’s lucky to have you,” she said one evening when you were at her family’s house. “I mean, if I’d met you first, who knows what could’ve happened?”

You froze, unsure of how to respond. “That’s... not something you should joke about, Asa.”

“Who’s joking?” she said, her tone light but her eyes serious.

You tried to distance yourself from her, but Asa always found a way to insert herself into your life. She started asking questions about your daily routine, your friends, your hobbies. At first, it seemed like idle curiosity, but then she began referencing things she shouldn’t have known.

“How was the gym this morning?” she asked one day, her smile almost taunting.

You stared at her, your heart sinking. You hadn’t told her you went to the gym that morning.

The stalking escalated quickly. You’d catch glimpses of her in the distance when you were out running errands or heading home from work. Sometimes, you’d find strange things left in your mailbox—notes written in her delicate handwriting, small trinkets that you didn’t recognize.

One night, you found her standing outside your apartment building.

“Asa, what are you doing here?” you demanded, your voice sharp.

She smiled, unbothered by your tone. “I just wanted to see you.”

“This has to stop,” you said, your frustration boiling over. “You can’t keep following me around like this. It’s not okay.”

Her smile faltered, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t mean that,” she said softly. “I’m just looking out for you. Ruka doesn’t understand you the way I do.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You decided to tell Ruka the truth.

It wasn’t an easy decision. Asa was her sister, and you knew this would hurt her. But you couldn’t keep living like this, constantly looking over your shoulder and feeling like you were losing your mind.

One evening, while you and Ruka were having dinner at your apartment, you decided to bring it up.

“Ruka, I need to talk to you about something,” you said, your voice heavy with unease.

She looked up from her plate, concern flickering across her face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Asa,” you began, struggling to find the right words. “She’s been... acting strange. She’s been following me, showing up at places where I should have privacy. And she’s been saying things—things that make me really uncomfortable.”

Ruka’s expression shifted, her brows knitting together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s been stalking me, Ruka,” you said, your voice trembling. “She’s crossed so many lines, and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Ruka stared at you for a moment, her face unreadable. Then, to your shock, she shook her head.

“I can’t believe you’re saying this,” she said, her voice filled with disbelief.

“Ruka, I’m telling you the truth—”

“No,” she interrupted, her tone sharper now. “How could you say that about my sister? Do you even hear yourself right now?”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Ruka, I’m not making this up. Asa has been—”

“She’s shy and awkward, sure,” Ruka said, cutting you off again. “But she would never do something like that. How could you accuse her of something so horrible?”

The hurt in her voice was palpable, and it made your chest ache. You thought she would understand, that she would believe you. But instead, she was looking at you like you were the villain.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Ruka said, her voice trembling with anger. “Asa’s your future sister-in-law. How can you treat her like this?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. You felt helpless, the weight of Ruka’s accusations pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Ruka’s rejection was exactly what Asa needed to push her plan to the next level.

She began to grow bolder, her obsession no longer confined to stolen glances and subtle insinuations. She started leaving gifts outside your apartment—flowers, handwritten letters, even a framed photo of the two of you at one of Ruka’s family gatherings.

One night, you woke up to find a shadowy figure standing outside your bedroom window. Your heart raced as you reached for your phone, but when you turned on the lights and looked again, the figure was gone.

The next morning, you found a note slipped under your door.

“You can’t hide from me. I’ll always find you.”

It was written in Asa’s handwriting.

You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Ruka’s denial left you isolated, and Asa’s obsession was consuming your life. You felt trapped, helpless, and utterly alone.

And the worst part? You could see the endgame approaching, but you had no idea how to stop it. Asa’s plan was reaching its peak, and you were powerless to stop her.

The days blurred into each other, a haze of anxiety and exhaustion. Ever since you’d told Ruka about Asa’s behavior, things had only gotten worse. Ruka’s anger lingered, her warm demeanor replaced with cold indifference. She barely spoke to you anymore, and when she did, her words were curt and dismissive.

“You’re being paranoid,” she’d said one night when you tried to bring it up again. “Maybe if you stopped overthinking everything, you’d feel better.”

Her words stung, cutting deeper than you expected. You were desperate for her support, for her to see what you were going through. But Ruka didn’t seem to care.

Asa, on the other hand, was always there.

Whenever you felt the weight of your stress dragging you down, Asa found a way to insert herself into your life. She’d text you at odd hours, sending messages that teetered between concern and temptation.

“You deserve to feel loved,” she wrote one night. “I just want to help you feel better.”

At first, you tried to ignore her, but the cracks in your resolve were growing wider. Ruka’s indifference left you starved for affection, and Asa was all too eager to fill the void.

One evening, after another argument with Ruka, you found yourself sitting alone in your apartment, staring at the unopened bottle of wine on the counter. Your thoughts were a chaotic mess—frustration with Ruka, confusion about Asa, and an overwhelming sense of loneliness.

A knock at the door startled you. When you opened it, Asa was standing there, holding a bag of takeout and a bottle of your favorite drink.

“I thought you might need some company,” she said, her voice soft and soothing.

You wanted to tell her to leave, to slam the door and block her number. But the look in her eyes—the genuine concern, the warmth—made it impossible.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you muttered, stepping aside to let her in anyway.

“It’s okay,” Asa said, placing the food on the table. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I just... I hate seeing you like this.”

The evening passed in a strange mix of comfort and unease. Asa was attentive, hanging onto your every word as you vented about your frustrations with Ruka.

“She doesn’t understand,” you said, your voice cracking. “I’ve been trying so hard, but it’s like she doesn’t even see me anymore.”

Asa reached across the table, placing her hand on yours. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” she said. “I see you, Y/n. I always have.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine. You should have pulled away, but the warmth of her touch was intoxicating.

In the weeks that followed, Asa’s presence became a constant in your life. She showered you with affection, her sweet words and gestures a stark contrast to Ruka’s coldness. She left handwritten notes on your doorstep, promising to always be there for you. She called you late at night, her voice a soft lullaby that eased the storm in your mind.

You knew it was wrong. Deep down, you knew Asa’s obsession wasn’t healthy. But you were drowning, and she was the only one offering you a lifeline.

The breaking point came one night when Ruka came home late, barely acknowledging your presence as she dropped her bag on the couch.

“Do you even care anymore?” you asked, your voice trembling with anger and despair.

Ruka glanced at you, her expression tired and annoyed. “I’m too exhausted for this, Y/n. Can we not do this right now?”

Her dismissal was the final blow. You felt something inside you snap, the last remnants of your patience and hope crumbling to dust.

That night, you called Asa.

The transition was quick, almost surreal. Asa’s plan had been set in motion for months, and she executed it flawlessly. She convinced you to leave Ruka, her words a mix of sweet promises and subtle manipulation.

“She doesn’t deserve you,” Asa whispered, her arms wrapped around you as you sat in her apartment. “You’ve given her everything, and she’s done nothing but hurt you. Let me take care of you, Y/n. Let me show you what it feels like to be truly loved.”

In your weakened state, her words were irresistible. You wanted to believe her, to let yourself fall into the safety of her arms.

The announcement of your engagement to Asa sent shockwaves through Ruka’s family.

Ruka showed up at Asa’s apartment, demanding answers. “How could you do this to me?” she screamed, her voice breaking with betrayal and anger. “He was my fiancé!”

Asa remained calm, her expression serene as she faced her sister.

“You ignored him, Ruka,” Asa said, her voice cold and measured. “You had the perfect man, and you let him fall apart right in front of you. I was the one who picked up the pieces. I was the one who showed him the love he deserved.”

Ruka’s face crumpled, her anger giving way to disbelief. “You... you’ve been planning this, haven’t you?”

Asa’s smile was chilling. “Of course I have. Do you think someone like Y/n could ever go unnoticed? He’s a treasure, and you were too blind to see it.”

Ruka turned to you, her eyes pleading. “Y/n, tell me this isn’t true. Tell me she didn’t manipulate you.”

But you couldn’t meet her gaze. The guilt and shame were too much, and Asa’s grip on your arm was a silent reminder of the new reality you’d chosen.

Asa had won.

Ruka was left devastated, her relationship with her sister shattered beyond repair. And you? You were trapped in a gilded cage of Asa’s making, her obsession now the foundation of your new life.

But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. Asa’s love was possessive, suffocating, and unrelenting—and you had willingly walked into her embrace.

The confrontation was inevitable. Ruka stormed into Asa’s apartment, her face pale with anger and disbelief. The betrayal was written all over her—her hands trembling, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Asa, what have you done?” she spat, her voice cracking. “How could you steal him from me? He was my fiancé! Do you even realize what you’ve done to our family?”

Asa stood calm and composed, a chilling contrast to her sister’s rage. She looked at you briefly, a small smile tugging at her lips as if to remind you that she was your savior, your protector.

“Sit down, Ruka,” Asa said coolly, gesturing toward the couch. “It’s time you heard the truth.”

Ruka hesitated, but her curiosity—and perhaps guilt—got the better of her. She sat, her arms crossed defensively, glaring at her sister.

“The truth?” Ruka hissed. “You mean the lies you’ve fed him? The manipulation you’ve used to tear us apart?”

Asa shook her head, her expression almost pitying. “No, the truth about how you failed him. About how you left him to wither while I brought him back to life.”

She glanced at you again, her gaze softening. “Y/n was drowning, Ruka. And you were too blind to see it.”

Asa began her story, her tone measured and deliberate, as if every word was a calculated move in her game.

“I started noticing it months ago,” she said, her eyes fixed on Ruka. “The way you ignored him, dismissed him. He was crying out for help, and you couldn’t even hear him.”

Ruka’s jaw clenched, but she said nothing.

“At first, I thought I could help from a distance,” Asa continued. “I’d talk to him, check in on him. But it wasn’t enough. I saw how lonely he was, how much he needed someone who truly cared.”

Her voice grew softer, almost mournful. “So, yes, I started following him. I needed to understand his pain. To see how deep it went.”

“You stalked him,” Ruka interjected, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief.

Asa didn’t deny it. “I did. And I don’t regret it. Because it showed me the truth—you weren’t there for him, Ruka. You left him to suffer alone.”

Ruka’s expression faltered, the weight of Asa’s words sinking in.

“But I didn’t stop there,” Asa said, her tone hardening. “I got close to him. I broke through the walls you built between him and the love he deserved. I showed him that someone cared, that someone saw his worth.”

She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “And do you know what I found? A man who had been abandoned by the one person he trusted most. You broke him, Ruka. And I put him back together.”

Ruka’s composure finally shattered. Tears welled up in her eyes as she shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. “I... I didn’t know. I didn’t realize.”

“You didn’t care,” Asa snapped, her voice icy. “You had the perfect man, and you let him slip through your fingers. You don’t deserve him, Ruka. I do.”

Ruka turned to you, her tears streaming down her face. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I... I thought we were okay.”

Her apology felt hollow, distant. You looked at her, but there was no spark of recognition, no flicker of the love you once felt.

Asa placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch grounding you in the moment. “He doesn’t need your apologies,” she said softly. “He has me now. And I won’t let him suffer like you did.”

Ruka knelt before you, her voice breaking as she begged for your forgiveness. “Please, Y/n. I’ll do better. I’ll fix this. Just come back to me.”

But her words felt like noise, a distant echo that failed to reach you. Your mind was consumed by Asa—her voice, her touch, her promises. She had become your anchor, your guiding light in the storm of your despair.

Asa’s plan had worked perfectly.

She had spent months breaking you down, filling your mind with her words, her presence, her love. She was always there, whispering sweet promises and gentle reassurances. She painted herself as your savior, the only one who truly understood you.

“You don’t need her,” Asa murmured in your ear, her voice a soothing melody. “You only need me.”

And you believed her.

Ruka’s sobs echoed in the room, but they meant nothing to you now. Asa wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close as she glared at her sister.

“You see, Ruka?” Asa said, her voice dripping with triumph. “He’s mine now. And there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

Ruka looked up at you, her face crumpling with despair. “Y/n, please...”

But you didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Asa had claimed you, mind and soul, and there was no escape from her grasp.

In Asa’s arms, you felt a twisted sense of peace. She had won. And you had surrendered.

[clockwayswrites]

Masked in Amity

CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)

Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.

“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?

“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”

“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”

“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”

“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.

“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”

“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”

Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.

“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”

“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”

“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”

“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”

Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”

Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.

This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”

The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”

“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”

“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…

Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”

Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”

“So you want to leave me in the past?”

“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”

“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.

Danny scrambled off also.

“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”

Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”

“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”

“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”

Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”

“And then left.”

“So I could help other people!”

“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”

Danny closed his mouth with a clack.

Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”

“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”

“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.

“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”

“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.

Maybe he really was just a caged beast.

“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.

As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.

--

AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.

[jeneveuxrein]

safety net [2/2] (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 25.8K

part 1 (14.8K) | part 2 (11K)

(yeah, lol)

Self-loathing has always been something you’ve done. It was likely the result of never being good enough for your parents even when you delivered on every single expectation they’ve had for you. 

At this current point in your life, you hate yourself for the situation you blindly agreed to. 

It’s been about a month since Rosie disturbed your peace in the library, asking if you’d teach her how to have sex, which translates into having sex with her. 

You haven’t had sex yet, but you’ve done everything else a lot. Rosie has been eager to finally do it, but there’s something that always stops you. She gets frustrated, but you eat her out, quickly bringing her to an orgasm, and all is forgotten until next time. You sense her getting impatient, but you’re scared that once you finally do, that’ll be it. 

And it’s been nice spending all this time with her. You see her pretty much every day. The only times you don’t is if she has to finish a project or if she has a date with Soohyun. When it’s the latter, you get all broody, but your mood immediately changes when she messages you as soon as she’s home. 

Rosie doesn’t tell you much about the dates unless you ask. She has shared that they’ve exchanged a couple kisses here and there, but she often compares Soohyun to you—too much teeth, too aggressive, too… everything she’s not used to. It goes straight to your ego because how could it not. 

The physical aspect of your relationship aside, you two are actually getting along. You still bicker, but it doesn’t end with her yelling anymore. 

Rosie’s a catch, which is understandable based on the amount of people that want to be with her. She’s funny. She’s kind. She’s driven. She’s sometimes in her own world, that you often get lost with her when she rambles on about her day. She’s someone you could see yourself with if it was under different circumstances. 

You hear your name being called, breaking you out of your thoughts as you stare at your computer screen. You see Rosie approaching you with Jisoo, waving as the other woman looks bored already. 

“Hey Rosie,” You greet affectionately. “Jisoo.” 

Jisoo gives you a wave, smiling, as Rosie walks behind your chair. 

“Whatcha working on?” Rosie peeks over your shoulder. 

It’s an expense report that your father sent you to look over, but you’ve been swamped with exams coming up. 

“Just work stuff,” You answer, stretching your arms and letting out a yawn. “Are you done with your project?” 

“Yeah, Jisoo and I were going to grab dinner but I wanted to find you before we left,” Rosie ruffles your hair. “I’ll come by after though?” 

Jisoo makes a gagging sound, earning a glare from the woman behind you. 

“Sure, I’ll be home around 8. I have a game today,” You inform her, checking the time. 

“Oh what? You should’ve told me, I would’ve came,” Rosie sounds disappointed. 

“It’s alright, I probably won’t play that much anyways,” You send her an easy smile. “I’ll see you later.” 

Rosie nods, blowing you a kiss that has you blushing while Jisoo makes the sound again. She grunts when Rosie hits her arm, a quick bye before getting dragged away. 

You watch their figures get smaller, suddenly missing Rosie that you can’t focus anymore on work. You sigh, shaking your head, deciding that you’ll just shoot around before your game. 

--

“Why,” Rosie tears her lips away from yours, tilting her head back that you attack her neck. “Won’t you have sex with me?” She pants when you suck on her skin, careful to not leave a mark because he might see it. 

“Are you in a rush?” You murmur, hand sneaking underneath her blouse to palm her breast. 

“Well—no,” She gasps when you gently pinch her nipple. “I just think I’m ready. We’ve done a lot and I—fuck.”

“You what?” You continue your ministrations on her chest, massaging each breast with equal attention. 

“I’ve been thinking about how you’d feel inside me,” You stop and she squirms underneath you. 

If you weren’t hard enough before, you’re about ready to bust through your briefs. 

You pull back, staring at her. Your mind’s going a mile a minute because you weren’t expecting to actually follow through tonight. 

“I want this with you,” Rosie whispers, sitting up slightly to kiss you on the lips. “If anything hurts, I’ll tell you.” 

Fuck fuck okay. It’s go time and you couldn’t talk yourself out of this. 

“Okay,” You nod, kissing her forehead. “Are you sure?” You have to ask one more time. 

“Yes,” Rosie tugs her blouse over her head, leaving her completely nude. “You’re overthinking this.” 

You are, but for reasons she doesn’t know. You don’t even know yourself. You’re acting as if it’s your first time. 

“Kiss me,” And you do, resting your weight on top of her. 

It’s slow and sensual, her lips soft on your as you trail your hand between her legs. You swipe a finger in between her folds to check and she’s wet. She moans at the contact, rolling her hips for more contact. You repeat the movement just to be sure. You’ve been told that you’re above average in the size department, and you don’t want her to be in any pain. 

Rosie gets impatient, tugging your waistband down to free your cock. You groan when her hand wraps around you, stroking you gently as you kick the material off. 

When you deem her wet enough, you meet her hand with yours, guiding your cock in between her lips. Your body screams at you to enter her, but instead with your control quickly slipping, you run your length in between, moaning at the first contact of her pussy. 

“Stop teasing,” Rosie pants, body trembling beneath you as you rock your hips. 

“I’m sorry,” You’re really not. You don’t know what comes over you, but you lean back, spreading her legs wider as you grip your cock, spreading the precum over. “I need to get a condom.” You reach over to your nightstand, but she stops you. 

“Have you had sex with anyone since?”

“No,” You’ve been too wrapped up in her that any woman that you’ve seen at a party or hooked up with previously hasn’t been on your mind. 

“Then no condom, I’m on the pill,” Rosie says softly. 

You stare at her for a moment, heart pounding against your chest at what she’s offering. Rationale goes out the window because even though you’ve had a condom rule for the past year, you’d love to feel her without one. 

“Trust me?” Rosie bites her lip, nodding, eyes locked at your cock as you rest the head at her entrance. “Tell me if it’s too much.” 

You take a breath, more for your sake, as your cock slowly enters her. Her hands shoot to your hip, stopping your movement instantly. 

You’ve barely made any headway, but from what you’re feeling so far is too much for you to handle. She’s warm, wet, and tight as her body tenses at the intrusion. You keep reminding yourself to go slow because this is still her first time and going at the pace your body is telling you to would not be fair to her. 

“Holy shit,” Rosie gasps as her hands move to grip your arms. “Keep going,” She breathes slowly, catching her breath as you press your hips slightly forward. 

Her heat envelops you, applying a delicious pressure the deeper you go. You glance down at where your bodies are joined and you’re barely halfway there. 

What you want to do is snap your hips forward, completely, but you’re aware of Rosie’s breathing and expressions for any signs of discomfort. 

Though that awareness is quickly getting lost. 

“Are you all the way?” Rosie asks weakly, eyes scrunched closed. 

“Uh, almost?” You’re able to say as you gently rock back and forth to get your cock inside more. “How are you feeling?” 

“It’s—fuck—not bad, but there’s just a lot of pressure,” Rosie breathes out. 

Tell me about it. 

You distract her by kissing her all over, keeping your rhythm as her body relaxes to take more of you in. Her nails scratch at your arms, but you’d take a little bit of pain any day. 

You don’t realize it, but in no time, you’re fully sheathed by her heat, letting out a whimper when you see your cock disappear inside her. 

“You doing okay?” You grunt, burying your face into her neck to keep yourself from cumming right then and there. 

“Yeah,” Rosie sighs, experimenting by squeezing her inner walls around you. 

“You’re so hot,” You murmur, trailing kisses along her neck. “Your pussy feels so good around me, you’re taking me so well.” Her body responds to your words—interesting—as she spreads her legs wider to take you in. “You like hearing how you make me feel, huh?” Rosie can only nod, tipping her head back.

You lean back, slowly pulling your hips back, and watch, entranced, as your cock slides out. It’s covered in her slick, and you’ve never seen anything hotter. You let out a sigh as you feel her contract around the tip. She moans and something snaps inside you that you suddenly thrust back in. 

Rosie screams at the pressure, letting out a filthy moan that has you groaning. Your body moves on its own accord, slowly pumping your cock in and out of her pussy that has you seeing stars. 

“Fuck, baby,” She moans, pants, as she starts to babble nonsense as her walls accommodate to your girth. “You feel so good.”

You try not to pay attention to the pet name, but it only spurs you on more.

Her walls rhythmically squeeze every time you bottom out. It doesn’t stop you. It makes you chase the feeling, an addiction that you wouldn’t mind having. 

You lose yourself in her body, watching her bite her lip and lose her breath as she grabs onto the sheets. Hearing your name fall from her lips wakes something up in you.The sounds she makes drive you to thrust into her, and when you hit a certain spot inside, she demands you don’t stop. You don’t break rhythm as she squirms. You grab her hips, letting out groans of your own as you feel your orgasm coming. 

“Chaeng,” Your hips falter as her pussy contracts after a particularly hard thrust, “I’m gonna cum.” 

“Inside,” Rosie locks eyes with you, “Cum inside me.” 

Your resolve snaps as you thrust wildly into her, chasing your orgasm as you feel the start of hers, walls squeezing your cocks so tightly you feel lightheaded. You feel her nails digging into your skin, holding onto like her life depends on it.

“Yes, yes,” Rosie chants like a song as her head snaps back, showing her neck as her body is wracked with pleasure.

Cum shoots from your cock inside her, painting her inner walls white, groaning as you rut into her. Your brain shuts off as you fall on top of her. She doesn’t seem to mind as she wraps her arms around you, placing soft kisses all over your face. You hear a contented sigh from her as you gasp for air. 

When you come to your senses, you automatically kiss Rosie on the lips—a simple, sweet one—as you catch her breath against your lips. She tries to deepen it, but you pull away, smiling softly as you fully take her in. Your heart has never felt so loud. 

“Hi,” You say quietly. 

“Hey yourself,” Rosie returns your smile. 

“You okay?” You glance down where you’re still connecting, hoping—praying—you weren’t too rough. 

“A little sore, but never better.” 

“ I wasn’t too rough right?”

“Nope,” Rosie shakes her head. 

You gently pull out, watching her face wince, but she lets out a quiet moan when your softened cock brushes against her clit. 

“Sorry!” You rush out, falling next to her as she chuckles. 

“Stop,” Rosie lightly slaps your arm, bringing it to rest on her stomach. 

“Sorry,” You mumble again. 

“I feel it leaking,” Rosie states simply, sitting up to look in between her legs. You join her and see a dribble of your cum peak through her folds. “That’s kind of hot.”

“Chaeng,” You groan, the image of what’s between her legs etched in your mind forever. 

“It is,” Rosie nudges your shoulder, laughing. “I’m exhausted. I hope I’m not too sore tomorrow, I have to carry a bunch of things to the studio.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Like actually?” Rosie sinks back into the pillow, turning to face you. 

You nod. 

“You don’t even have classes tomorrow?” 

“I know, but I’ll take you to school with all your stuff,” You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t help her, knowing that she’ll likely be sore because of you. That wouldn’t sit well with you. 

Rosie kisses you on the cheek, smiling before snuggling into you. It all feels very relationship-y, spiking your anxiety because you’re more attached to her than you ever intended. 

And that scares you the most. 

--

“Thanks Eunbi,” You send a grateful smile to the girl sitting across from you as you’re finishing up the group project that completely slipped your mind. 

“It’s fine oppa,” Eunbi laughs. “It’s a low-stakes project anyways.”

“Still,” You roll your eyes, annoyed with yourself more than anything. “I would’ve literally forgotten about it if you didn’t say anything.” 

You and Eunbi were assigned as partners for a project that wasn’t worth much towards your grade, but it was supposed to help with the semester project that was worth your entire grade. Eunbi was someone you interacted with frequently, sharing the same classes, but spending the past couple days with her has kept your mind off a certain someone (who you’ve been actively avoiding for the past few days)z

The day after you and Rosie had sex, you did drop her off at school, carrying all her things to the studio so she wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Naturally, people saw you together, creating a small rumor about you dating. It freaked you out because everyone is aware of her and Soohyun that you needed to distance yourself from her. 

Of course, without her realizing what you’re doing. But Rosie was perceptive, so sooner or later, she’ll confront you. 

“Are you doing anything right now?” Eunbi asks after she finished packing her belongings. 

“Uh no?” 

“Did you want to get dinner?” 

“Sure why not,” You shrug because you’re not doing anything wrong, but why did you suddenly feel a weight on your shoulders? 

Eunbi smiles, and she’s pretty. She knows it too, but she doesn’t let that get to her head. She is someone you haven’t gone out with or slept with, so it couldn’t hurt to spend a little bit more time with her outside of school work. 

Right?

Wrong. 

The universe has a funny way of making things happen. 

As you’re exiting the library, Rosie’s outside. You try to avoid her, but she looks up at the right moment, eyes narrowing, and stomps her way over to you. 

“Seriously?” Is all she says, glancing behind you to see who you’re with. 

“What?” Your wall’s up, especially with people passing by. You pray to a higher being that she doesn’t make a scene. 

“You know what,” Rosie huffs, crossing her arms. 

“Uh, oppa,” Eunbi says before you could respond to the woman seething in front of you. “We can have dinner another time.” 

You turn your head, and Eunbi has an understanding smile on her face, nodding encouragingly while you feel the metaphorical daggers stabbing the side of your face. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you around okay?” Eunbi’s eyes crinkle, nodding politely at Rosie before walking away. 

Once Eunbi’s a good few meters away, Rosie tugs on your arm, “Seriously, what the fuck? You’ve been avoiding me.” 

Okay so maybe you haven’t been handling this the best. You’ve intentionally missed her phone calls and blatantly ignored her messages. You don’t know if it’s because of how you feel towards her, which you’re still trying to figure out, or if it’s because you thought that it was a one-time thing. 

“Can we not do this here?” You offer weakly, and her jaw noticeably clenches. 

“Fine,” Rosie relents, shaking her head, cursing you under her breath before walking towards the parking lot.

--

You’re sitting on the couch, watching Rosie pace back and forth across your living room. She didn’t say much to you on the car ride over except that she was playing music. She grunted a thanks when you opened the door for her, opting to change into more comfortable clothes, leaving her some on your bed in case she wanted to change. 

Other than that, she hasn’t said anything else. 

“Did you want me to cook something?”

No response, the sound of Rosie’s feet continues to shuffle on the hardwood. 

“You know,” Rosie stops in front of the window, back towards you as she looks out at the night city skyline, “I spent the last three days wracking my brain over why you weren’t talking to me.” 

“I can–” Rosie shakes her head, prompting you to not say anything more. 

“I thought everything between us was going well. Yeah we still bicker, but we aren’t arguing like we used to. We had sex. I thought it was great aside from the expected soreness, but then you just ghost me,” Thankfully she doesn’t see you wince. “I was like there’s no way he’s going to treat me like I’m one of his usual fucks, right? He has to have more respect for me.” Rosie turns around, eyes narrowed as she walks towards you. 

“Rosie–”

“I thought about it more and I even talked about it with Lisa and Jennie because I needed someone, anyone really, to make sure I wasn’t going crazy,” Rosie stands in between your legs, crossing her arms. “Lisa being Lisa said that I was overthinking it too much, but do you want to know what Jennie said?” 

“What?” You gulp, gaze locked on hers. 

“Since you and Jennie had a fling, or whatever,” You detect something off in her tone when she says that, but if you point it out, she’ll yell at you. “She said that maybe you had feelings for me.”

Fucking Jennie. 

“I called it absurd because it’s you and me. We set the rules, which for what it’s worth, we broke a couple of them, but that’s the one we absolutely couldn’t break,” Rosie’s eyes narrow, searching your face for truth. You hoped you weren’t giving anything away, but you weren’t too sure. 

Sentences weren’t forming under her intense gaze, so you could only nod. 

“I have to ask, do you have feelings for me?” Rosie asks point blank. 

Yes is the short answer. 

The long answer is much more complicated for you to put into words because you’re admitting to yourself that you do, and that’s what’s fucking you up more. 

“No.”

“No? Then why were you avoiding me? I called. I texted. I had half the mind of just coming over here to curse you out, but Jennie stopped me,” Her shoulders drop, defeated, as the hurt breaks through her façade. 

“I figured you were done with me,” You say softly. 

“Why would you think that?” Rosie kneels in between your legs, resting her hands on your thighs. Your brain short circuits because it’s a very familiar position that your body has become very conditioned to. 

“We had sex, isn’t that what you wanted? To just get it over with?” 

“Well yeah,” Rosie folds her arms, cradling her face in her hands as she stares at you. “But I still want to do more things with you. Soohyun and I have gone on a few dates, but we aren’t anything official.” 

“When he asks you out, that’s when this,” You gesture between your bodies, “Will be over?” 

Rosie nods, “It would make the most sense right? I would be cheating on him if we continued doing things and I called him my boyfriend.”

It stings to hear that more than you thought it would, but you swallow that, pushing it deep down. 

“That’s true. You’ll tell me when that happens?” You ask. You need to prepare yourself for a heartbreak you weren’t expecting. 

“You’ll be the first to know when he asks me out,” Rosie moves, straddling your lap. “But for now, I want to do things with you,” She grounds her hips down, showing you exactly what she wants to do. 

“Yeah?” Your cock starts to awaken, hardening as your hands grip her thighs. “Like what?” 

“Ride you,” Rosie brings her lips to yours, murmuring, “I’m not sore anymore.” 

You groan, mind clouded with her body bouncing on your cock—a very imminent reality as she pulls her top over her head, leaving her completely nude from the waist up.

“Go ahead, Chaeng,” You whisper against her lips, letting her take control of the night. 

And you know you’ll be absolutely fucked out by the end of it. 

--

--

Your hand contacts the flesh of her thigh, a loud smack rings through your room. 

“Fuck baby,” Rosie moans loudly, rolling her hips back, trying to get your cock where she needs you most. 

“Do you deserve it?” You bend forward, kissing her neck sweetly. 

“Yes,” She pants, nodding obediently, squirming in your grip as she continues her movement, brushing your cock in between her lower lips. 

Another loud smack echoes as Rosie nearly screams when you aim your cock at her opening, entering her in one swift thrust.

“Good girl,” You whisper, leaning back before watching your cock pull out just enough where your tip stays within her warmth. 

“Please,” Rosie turns her head around, biting her lip, nodding that she’s more than okay. You feel her walls contract on your tip, a groan falling from your lips before you thrust back in. 

You start off slow, wanting to savor this because whether Rosie knows it or not, this is the last time for this to happen. 

Another month has gone by and Soohyun still hasn’t asked her out. Everyone knows they’re an item, but it hasn’t happened—yet. 

Though everyone—besides her friends—doesn’t know that you fuck her every time after their dates. 

The universe still never works in your favor, so you just happened to be in line to get coffee behind Soohyun and one of his friends before you had class. They spoke loud enough for you to hear his friend ask Soohyun when he was going to ask Rosie to be his girlfriend officially. Curiosity got the best of you, and when Soohyun said tomorrow after dinner, you knew you had to see her tonight. 

It wasn’t out of the routine for you to see Rosie after school, but it was out of the routine for you to ask. You hardly initiated it because you didn’t want to assume, but the few times you did, it was because of your parents’ pressuring you to join them on an overseas trip to Japan to meet with the Nakamuras. You were overly stressed out and Rosie conditioned you to go to her to release any frustrations you had. 

Was she surprised when you walked up to her in front of her roommates? No, because you were friends with them too. Was she surprised when you asked if she wanted to come over tonight? You weren’t sure, but you saw her head tilt, questioning before answering sure. You ignored the smirks that formed on their faces. 

Rosie knew something was up the moment you pushed her against the front door as soon as it shut, dragging your lips across her neck. 

“Everything okay?” Rosie asked in between breaths, letting out a squeak when you grabbed one of her legs, wrapping it around your waist. 

“Yeah,” You answered, ignoring your thoughts as you grounded your hips over hers. 

She didn’t ask anything else, moaning softly as you sucked on her collarbone, lifting her other leg to carry her to your room.

Rosie’s inner walls tighten along your cock on every pull out, and she moans, chest heaving as she takes your cock. Her body quivers in your hands as you saw yourself in and out, in and out. 

“Baby,” The pet name falls from her lips. She only calls you it when your balls deep in her, and it spurs you on every single time. “You feel so good.”

“You’re a good girl,” You murmured, pressing your chest against her back. You stop your movements, leaving your length fully sheathed inside, “Show me what good girls do.”

Rosie lets out a small whine, squirming as she moves her body along your cock. Her hips gyrating on yours has you seeing stars, moaning in her ear. Her pussy tightens, rubbing itself over and over, and you scoff, knowing she found the special spot inside of her. 

One hand slaps her ass, and she stops. 

You’ve learned a lot about Rosie this past month. She may mouth off at you a lot in public, but behind closed doors, she’s obedient as ever, tapping into a side of you you hadn’t been since Nayeon. You both soon realized, after a particularly long night together, that it was something you both enjoyed with each other. Whenever she was particularly bratty, especially with her friends there, it would rile you up a lot. 

“Good girls don’t cum first,” You say flatly. “Guess we stop now.” You slowly pull out before her hand reaches for yours, stopping your exit. 

“No no no,” Rosie whines, vigorously shaking her head. “I’m sorry, you just feel too good.”

“Selfish,” You click your tongue, shaking your head. 

“Baby please,” Rosie begs. She squeezes her inner walls on what’s remaining inside her, a dangerous trick she learned quickly, that has you groaning, slipping your length back inside. “Oh shit,” She moans at being filled.

“Fuck fine,” You relent, but you had other plans for her. You stand upright. You reach for her long blonde hair, tugging with enough force to pull her back against your chest. “But I’m fucking your pussy. This,” You snap your hips against hers, “Is mine. Right?”

Eyes widening, Rosie nods enthusiastically, “Yes baby yes.” 

“Mine?” You snap your hips again, watching her breasts bounce. 

“Yes,” She moans. 

“Say it.” 

Her hand turns your head towards her, bringing you in for a lustful kiss, tongues dancing as she moans, yours, into your mouth. 

You suddenly drop the grip on her hair, her body falling onto the bed, taking you with her. You fall on top of her prone form and start hammering into her pussy. 

You hope her screaming doesn’t get you a noise complaint, but if it does, you don’t give a flying fuck. Especially with the pressure her pussy is, squeezing your cock for all you have. 

“Fuck you’re so good,” Rosie bites into her lip, eyes rolling back as she grips the sheets, crumpling in her hand. “So fucking good,” She repeats in between moans.

“You’re being good for me,” Her pussy tightens at the praise. “Keep being good for me.”

Your hands grip her ass, drilling your cock into her, and something snaps inside of you when she screams. 

“Fuck this pussy’s mine,” You groan against her tangled hair. 

“Yours, yours, yours—oh fuck,” Rosie chants, eyes shooting open as her orgasm surprises you both. 

You feel your cock get pushed out as Rosie begins to squirt against your body, and she fucking gushes.

You’ve never made a girl squirt before, and Rosie has never had such a bodily reaction. You feel a streak of possessiveness rolls through your body. You shove your cock through her wetness, and you feel another rush of liquid as you wildly thrust in and out of her body.

“Fuck Chaeng,” You moan, your mind screaming mine mine, as your orgasm hits, shooting your load deep inside her. It must’ve triggered another orgasm because her pussy tightens again, knocking the air from your lungs, as your hips stutter erratically. 

“Jesus fuck,” Rosie pants from underneath you, her body still quivering from her orgasm. Your chest heaves, hands slipping underneath her waist to hold her tightly. “That was…I don’t even know.”

“Yeah,” You grunt, kissing her hair before gently pulling your cock out. You don’t know either because you’ve taken Rosie roughly before, but never like this. She lets out a quiet moan, sighing, as you glance down to the mess between you. Quite a mess indeed. 

Your body collapses next to Rosie as exhaustion takes over, but she quickly snuggles into you, wrapping an arm over your back. 

“Are you okay?” Rosie mumbles into your ear, chin resting on your shoulder. 

“Are you?” You turn your head to face her. The guilt washing in after you realize how hard you were on her. 

“Well I know for a fact I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I’m great,” Rosie kisses your skin, mumbling out, “But seriously, are you okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask quietly. 

Rosie stares at you, peeking her head over to search for an answer you’re scared she’ll find. She looks beautiful, and you’d love to tell her, but with the way she’s looking at you, something else might slip out. 

“You called me mine,” Rosie says softly, bringing her fingers to comb through your hair. 

“Sorry,” You bury your face into your pillow, embarrassed. “Heat of the moment,” You lie, knowing damn well it wasn’t. 

“Don’t be shy,” Rosie scratches your head. “It was cute,” Giggling softly before adding, “Being yours sounds nice.”

--

You’re at a bar with a few of your friends—Jennie and Lisa included. It’s a normal night out with your friends to celebrate making it another week. You couldn’t really enjoy it like you normally would because you’ve been checking your phone every couple minutes, waiting for a message you know is coming your way. 

“Oppa, pay attention to us,” Lisa whines next to you as Jennie chuckles on her lap. 

“If you want to have a threesome, just ask,” That comment earns you a hard smack on the arm from Jennie, huffing in her now-girlfriend’s lap. 

“Oh fuck off,” Jennie spits out, muttering to Lisa about how much of an asshole you are and why she ever slept with you. 

You check your phone for any notifications and your heart drops when you see one from Rosie. You casually glance to make sure neither of the girls are peering over your shoulder, while you hear them talking to Ryujin on their other side. 

You take a breath, tapping the screen to read the message. 

Soohyun asked me to be his girlfriend. 

You already knew it was coming, so why did it still hurt?

You lock your phone, shaking your head, as you try to process your emotions. 

The time you’ve been spending with Rosie is over, and you couldn’t help but feel sad over it. It feels like when you and Nayeon broke up, but a thousand times worse. It’s not like you two were actually a couple, mere fuck buddies that spent hours together watching shows, eating out with, and a lot of other things in between. 

But then why does it feel like it was more than a fuck? 

You were aware that you were growing attached to Rosie, but you feigned it off that it was just because of how much you saw each other. She became part of your routine, that you couldn’t remember the time when she wasn’t. 

Your attachment clearly was more because you developed feelings, actual feelings that weren’t revolving around lust. So yeah, you like Rosie, hell, you may even be in love with her at this point, but you lost your shot. 

And there probably won’t ever be another. 

You groan, slamming your hand on the table loud enough that it jolts the girls next to you. 

“Oppa, what the fuck?” Jennie asks, concerned with your sudden outburst. 

“I gotta go,” Your voice cracks, walking away before you break down completely.

“Wait!” Lisa yells after you, spurring you to move quicker through the crowd. 

You turn your head before you exit, but you can’t pinpoint their face in the sea of people. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing you lost them, before the thought of Rosie seeps back into your mind. 

You need something—anything—to get your thoughts and feelings off of her. An idea quickly comes to you, one that you regret having, but it’s your only option. 

You pull your phone out, scrolling through your contact list before hitting call. 

The line rings once before a concerned voice answers. 

“Book me a flight to Osaka.”

--

--

It’s been two weeks since you received a message that shattered you. 

It’s also been two weeks since you left for Osaka abruptly, deciding to join your parents to meet with the Nakamuras for another business formality. 

Your parents were surprised that you wanted to join, especially since the last discussion you had with your father had your mother having to step in between before either of you slammed the other into the wall. Your father was excited the moment you showed up at your childhood home straight after the club while your mother looked concerned. She asked if everything was alright, but you brushed her off, not wanting to get into it with her. 

Regardless, they were still happy you joined them. Your father more so as he made the off comment that it would be good to spend some time with Kazuha. 

Which you did, and with Satoshi. 

You gave Kazuha the heads up that you’d be arriving with your parents. She was another person surprised, but she welcomed you nonetheless. You also met her boyfriend, who you quickly became close to, much to Kazuha’s dismay. She’d tell anyone that she was the third wheel by how much you and Satoshi spoke. 

It was only meant to be a weeklong trip, but Kazuha and Satoshi invited you to stay for their school break, to visit Tokyo and Hiroshima. You jumped at the opportunity. Anything that kept you away from seeing Rosie and Soohyun holding hands on campus was what you wanted. 

Satoshi brought his younger sister along too, Kasumi. You thought she was a bit of a hothead, but she was pretty and you were in another country trying to get over someone. 

When it came down to actually hooking up, you couldn’t. Your body physically shut down from anything you two alluded to. Making out had no effect on you. Her rubbing her hand over your crotch felt nice, but not enough for you to get hard. You felt bad, but you explained that you just couldn’t because you weren’t in the right headspace for it. You were so caught up in your feelings with Rosie that you couldn’t perform, no matter how much Kasumi was interested. 

She understood, chuckling because she figured there was someone else, but she thought you were cute so she wanted to at least try. There weren’t any hard feelings, leaving Japan with two great friends. And Kazuha too, you guess. 

You hear your mother call your name out from across the aisle, motioning for you to sit next to her as the plane starts its descent. 

“How are you doing?” Your mother asks once you buckle your seatbelt. 

“I’m fine,” An automated response whenever either of your parents ask, but the difference between them is that your mother has a tendency to prod. 

“How was Tokyo?” 

“It was fun. Kazuha and Satoshi took me around,” You answer vaguely, knowing that if you shared actual details about what you did, she would have a heart attack. 

“That’s great,” Your mother nods, smiling. “How’s Chaeyoung?” 

You freeze. You knew your mothers spoke often, but she had rarely ever asked you about her. 

“I saw Alice a few weeks ago as I was coming home. She mentioned you and Chaeyoung had been spending some time together,” Your mother continues, noticing your sudden apprehension. 

Oh. 

That’s news to you because you didn’t think Rosie mentioned you to Alice of all people. The siblings were close, like really close, so if she talked about you, it probably meant something. But you were trying to get over her, and thinking about what it could mean would drive you crazy. 

“Oh, uh, Rosie’s doing well. I think she’s going abroad for her internship this summer, she just has to decide where she wants to go,” You say. Rosie had been bouncing ideas off you since she heard back. You were there when she received a couple emails, watching her shock and excitement paint her face. She nearly ripped your clothes off when she got accepted into the one she really wanted. 

“Fashion right? Chaeyoung always had an eye for that,” Your mother answers pensively. 

You’re inclined to say something else, but another question is thrown your way before you could. 

“Are you two dating?” 

“Mother,” You roll your eyes. 

“That’s not a no,” She quips, chuckling at your expense. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. You’ve always been fond of her ever since you were kids. We, her mother and I, have talked about it before.”

“What’re you even talking about?” You sigh, shaking your head. This conversation has taken a turn for the worse. You thought your mother wanted you to marry Kazuha, but apparently, she has been talking to Rosie’s mother about you two for years. 

“You don’t remember? You used to come home frustrated with Rosie, whining and grumbling about why she wouldn’t talk to you,” Her words unlock a box you kept hidden away. “It wasn’t until you hit high school where you pretty much gave up trying to be her friend. Even at that point, Rosie would talk to you, or maybe more antagonize you is a better description. You were beaming after those weekly dinners with the Parks.”

You didn’t comment as thoughts and feelings rushed to the surface. 

“Regardless, we thought you two would date at some point,” Your mother shrugged as if what she just said had no impact on you. 

Your mother doesn’t say anything else, opening one of her latest novels, signaling that the conversation is over. 

It really didn’t matter how you felt before, but then why does it feel like it’s making it a hundred times harder to get over her? 

--

You drop your duffel bag on the floor, kicking the door shut, as you’re finally home after two weeks. You plop your body on the couch, yawning from the flight. You have to go to campus tomorrow, which you weren’t entirely excited about. The chances of you seeing her were high, but you didn’t know what she was going to do. 

You’ve been avoiding all messages she sent you, which were a lot. She called you too, leaving a few voicemails that you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to. Kazuha caught you staring at your phone one night and made you promise not to open any messages that could derail your trip. It didn’t help Satoshi agreed, saying that it would be like a reset. 

You decide that now was the time to check them. 

Where are you? 

Can you answer the phone? 

I’m coming over. 

I’m outside, can you open the door? 

Fuck it, I know your code. 

Where the hell are you? 

Did you go to Osaka?

All those messages were from the day after Soohyun asked her to be his girlfriend. You saw she texted you everyday for a week asking if you could call her, but her last message broke you. 

I can only assume you went to Osaka. I hope everything’s okay. 

It takes everything in you to not reply now. If you do, you’d just be an asshole to her for no contact for two weeks. You’re an asshole either way, but it would rub salt in the wound. 

You check your other messages and see a few from Jennie, who rightfully curses you out for being a dick and to just respond so Rosie knows you're alive. Lisa sent one too, asking you where you are, but no threats. Jisoo’s message made you chuckle, a simple reply to her or else, was clear enough.

You sigh, locking your phone and tossing it on the coffee table. 

You’ll deal with everything tomorrow. 

--

The first person that approaches you on campus is Jennie. She shoves you, letting her when you know you could overpower her. 

“You’re a fucking ass,” Jennie pushes you again, enough force to lose your balance. 

“What did I do?” You stupidly ask, avoiding her piercing gaze. 

“You know what the hell you did, you better fucking talk to her,” Jennie says firmly, poking your shoulder. 

“If I see her,” You mumble, rubbing the spot. 

“You better,” You wait for her to say more, but the sound of her walking away brings your gaze to her retreating figure. 

Sighing as this isn’t how you want to start your day, you decide to be early for class.

The universe doesn’t even want you to be early because Nayeon stops you along the way.

“Hey I need a favor,” Nayeon asks, standing in front of you. 

“What?” You didn’t mean to sound irritated, but blame Jennie.

“Can you do this photoshoot for Mina and Sana? Their original photographer flaked, and they’re out of options,” Nayeon explains and you know she’s telling the truth. 

“Why me?” 

“I suggested you. I remember you taking photographs,” Nayeon smiles softly. “It’s a project that’s worth half their grade and their professor wants quality pictures.”

“What class is it for?” You prod, adding, “I’ve never done a modeling kind of shoot.”

“Their visual concepts class, I think. I don’t know. All I know is that they texted the group chat, stressing out,” Nayeon explains, shrugging since she was a film major. 

“Fine,” Nayeon claps happily, “Are you going to be there?” You had to ask, needing the time to mentally prepare yourself to spend, most likely, the whole day with her. 

“What? No,” Nayeon shakes her head. “I’ll be in Busan this weekend. Why did you want to hang out with me?” She wiggles her eyebrows. 

“Absolutely not,” You say firmly and her shoulders drop. 

“Fine whatever,” Nayeon huffs, hiking her bag on her shoulder. “Anyways, I’ll text you the details about it later. It’s tomorrow. I don’t think you need to bring anything, but bring your camera stuff just in case.” 

You nod, thinking about your schedule for tomorrow, which thankfully nothing was planned. 

“Oh,” Nayeon turns her head, adding one last detail before walking away, “Chaeyoung will be there too. She’s styling them.” 

Nayeon doesn’t wait for you to reply, leaving you speechless and even more irritated. 

Fucker. 

--

--

“Let’s take a break,” You announce after checking the shots you just took, satisfied with the outcome. “Fifteen?”

“Oh thank god,” Sana sinks to the ground as Mina chuckles next to her. “If we weren’t desperate, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

“Be thankful I care about this, or your project would be shit,” You answer, flicking through the pictures and thinking of how to change the lighting. 

“Thanks again for doing this, oppa,” Mina squeezes your arm before walking off to sit with Momo. 

You grumble a reply, turning without even thinking, and you accidentally bump into someone. 

“Shit sorry,” You look up to see Rosie five seconds away from losing the grip on the clothes she’s carrying. You immediately drop the camera against your chest, reaching for the items and taking it out of her hands. 

“It’s fine,” Rosie grabs the clothes back without another word, walking towards Mina. 

You sigh, shaking your head, trying not to lose focus on why you’re here. 

When you arrived this morning at one of the parks at the Han River, most of the crew was already present, setting up. You greeted everyone before seeing Rosie with Dahyun, discussing the outfits and concepts. 

“Hey good morning,” You greeted softly as you stood in front of them. 

Dahyun gave you a bright smile while Rosie forced hers, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. 

“Morning oppa!” Dahyun was as cheerful as ever at eight in the morning on a Saturday. “You could use the school’s equipment if you want,” She nods towards the table with the camera and lenses, “But feel free to use yours, whichever you feel comfortable with.” 

Another woman walked up to Dahyun, asking her to come with her to make sure they were correctly set up. Dahyun excused herself, leaving you alone with Rosie. 

“Chaeng—”

“Now you want to talk?” Rosie’s words cut sharply. “I don’t have anything to say to you right now, can we just get through today?” 

“Okay,” Was all you could say, nodding. You knew she had a lot to say, but neither of you could exactly hash it out with all these people around. 

“Okay,” Rosie nodded, grabbing whatever was near her, and walked away. 

Once Sana and Mina arrived, you quickly switched gears. You pushed whatever thoughts and feelings you had for Rosie aside, and went straight into work mode. 

You had zero experience taking photographs like this. Sure you’ve taken photos of your friends, and Nayeon would force you to take pictures of her whenever you went out. The last person you took a photo of was Rosie when you walked through the streets of Myeongdong a few weeks back. 

That was about as close as you got to taking pictures of people, but working like this was exhilarating.

You and Rosie worked well together too. It made you a lot more comfortable with directing with how seamlessly it went. You asked her opinion on what lighting should be used and she gave feedback that had the shots coming out great. Other than suggestions, your conversations had been minimal.

“You know,” Sana joins you in the empty seat next to you as you sift through the photos on the laptop, “You’re an asshole right?” 

“Okay what the fuck,” You break your attention away from the screen to a smirk on Sana’s face. 

“Chaeyoung-ah talks to us, and she sort of filled us in about this guy, who wasn’t Soohyun, that she had been seeing,” Sana sinks into the chair, glancing at the picture of her and Mina on the screen. “It wasn’t really hard to put two and two together about who she was referring to, and Nayeon confirmed something was going on between you.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You brush the woman off, rolling your eyes as you delete one of the blurry shots. 

“Sure you don’t,” Sana chuckles, “But regardless of whatever was going on between you two, you should know—if you don’t already—Rosie didn’t say yes to Soohyun when he asked her out.”

You don’t let her words faze you as you continue to delete shots you don’t deem worthy. 

“One could only wonder right?” Sana goes on, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Soohyun’s a good-looking guy, nice enough, and spent a fair amount of time courting her, just for him to be rejected.”

“What are you getting at Sana?” You stop what you were doing, turning to face her. 

“Just wanted to figure out why Rosie said no,” Sana shrugs as Dahyun passes by, informing her that it’s time for the next outfit change. “Anyways, Rosie wouldn’t say, but it’s obvious why.”

“And why is that?” You take the bait, preparing yourself for whatever’s going to come out of Sana’s mouth next. 

“Because of you,” Sana stands, letting out a small yawn. “Anyways, let’s get this over with. I’m ready to drink. Don’t be a dick.” 

You aren’t sure if Sana was referring to herself or to Rosie, and you couldn’t ask since she left to go change into the next outfit. 

--

The rest of the photo shoot goes without a hitch. You tried your best to not let the conversation with Sana bleed into your work, and you hoped no one noticed. It was slightly harder than it was already to work with Rosie, but you maintained some sense of professionalism. 

There was a minor issue with the zipper breaking on Sana’s dress, but Rosie was quick to fix the problem by throwing a blazer over her. Other than that, everything went well. You thanked everyone for their help today, realizing it was a long day, which everyone was happy to hit the bar once everything was packed up. 

You offered to edit the pictures for them, since you didn’t exactly want to go out. Mina said you didn’t have to, but you were adamant about it. Sana shrugged, indifferent if you joined or not. 

You see Rosie talking to Momo and swallow your pride as you make your way to them. 

“Come on Chaeng,” You catch Momo say as you get closer. “It’ll be fun!” 

“I don’t think so Momo,” Rosie shakes her head. “I just want to stay in tonight.”

“One drink?” Momo begs as you stand next to the women. 

“Sorry Momo,” Rosie smiles, eyes falling on you before her smile slowly fades. 

“Oppa, convince her to go,” Momo pouts. 

“I’m with her on this one Momo,” She frowns, shaking her head, muttering something in Japanese that makes you laugh. “I understand, you know that right?” 

Momo’s eyes widened, cheeks starting to turn red before walking away. 

Once Momo’s a good distance away, you turn to Rosie, a sad smile forming on your face as she looks everywhere but at you. 

“Can we talk?” You ask quietly. 

“So talk,” Rosie crosses her arms. 

“Like in private? Please.”

Rosie relents, sighing. “Let’s just finish with cleaning up and we can go for a walk okay?” 

“Okay,” You nod, grateful that she’s giving you the time of day. 

You have to be honest with her, and if she rejects you completely, at least you can say you tried. 

—

Rosie shivers next to you, the chill of the sunset creeping in. You shrug your coat off, wrapping it around her shoulders. 

“Thanks,” Rosie mumbles out as you continue walking along the river. 

There are a few people out as well, mostly couples huddled together. It almost makes you want to wrap an arm around her to keep her warm. You won’t though because it’s awkward. 

Rosie walks into the convenience store without saying anything, which you follow her into. She grabs an instant coffee before turning to you, asking if you wanted anything. You shake your head, even though the bottle of soju behind the glass screams your name. 

When she goes to pay, you quickly swipe your card before she could say no. She scoffs, shaking her head, as she walks out. You follow her, keeping a small distance as you watch her take small sips with every step. She stops, leaning on the railing, and stares out to the river. 

Naturally you join her, letting the background noise fill the silence. 

After a few minutes, Rosie says, “You wanted to talk, so go ahead.” 

“First off, I’m sorry,” You say quietly. You apologize for not replying, and most likely worrying her. You explain that going to Osaka was an impulsive choice, but that doesn’t excuse your behavior. 

“Well why? Did I do something?” Rosie turns to face you, lip quivering. You notice her eyes suddenly glossy, and it pangs you to see her like this. 

“No, no,” You shake your head firmly, closing your eyes as you choose your next words carefully. “When I got that text about Soohyun, I finally accepted something.” 

“What?” 

You slowly open your eyes, staring at her features, completely enamored by her. Like you always have been. 

“I’m in love with you,” You admit for the first time out loud, and you’re happy it’s to her. 

Rosie’s eyes widen, gaze looking away as her whole body shifts to face the water again. 

“You’re an asshole, you know that right?” Rosie says quietly. “And an idiot.” She adds, huffing. 

Not the response you were expecting, but before you could ask what she means, she tells you anyway. 

“I’ve spent mostly every day with you for the past month, then we have a really intense night of sex where you fucking claimed me,” You wince at her words, “Then you just leave for two weeks without any contact to come back and say you’re in love with me because of a text of someone asking me out?” 

“Well when you put—”

“I’m not finished,” Rosie huffs, facing you once again. “I’m in love with you, too dumbass. After that last night, I realized that as much as you piss me off, as much as you’re so fucking stubborn, that the idea of being yours felt real. I couldn’t say yes to Soohyun when I unknowingly said yes to you.” 

“You want to be with me?” You stare at her, dumbfounded. 

“If that wasn’t clear enough, yes,” Rosie rolls her eyes. “We’ve basically already been dating, so if you’d just stop running away after and just talk to—whoa,” She gasps when your arm snakes around her waist, pulling her into you, tilting her head up. 

“Say it,” You ghost your lips against hers, moving as she misses. 

“See, stubborn,” There’s a sharp inhale when you kiss her sweetly. 

“Say it,” You mumble, dipping your tongue in as she lets out a moan. 

“Yours,” Rosie wraps her arms around your neck, melting into you as the kiss deepens. 

“I love you,” You detach your lips, resting your forehead against hers. 

“I love you too,” Tracing her fingers along your neck, “Even though you’ve been a jerk these past two weeks. How are you going to make it up to me?” 

“I can think of a few ways.”

--

--

Rosie slams the door behind you, wincing at the frames rattling against the wall. She kicks her shoes off aggressively, barely sparing you a glance as she walks to your room. That door also slams. 

She’s pissed. 

Maybe it was your fault. Okay so it was your fault, but you didn’t mean for it to happen. 

You met up with a few of your friends to celebrate the end of exams and the school year. It was also a small farewell to you and Rosie as you were going to Paris together for the summer. Rosie took the internship at YSL and she was able to get you one too after she sneakily sent over the portfolio from the project. 

Your parents didn’t mind, figuring it would be good for you to take this time before you graduate into the real world. They were supportive that if you decided to do it for real, they’d be more than okay with it. That surprised you, but you couldn’t complain. Though the teasing from your mother was enough. 

You were at the bar, waiting to get your order when Ryujin sat in your lap. You couldn’t do anything as her weight pressed you down. 

“What the hell Ryujin?” You try to get her off you. 

“Oppa, come on. When are you going to ditch Chaeyoung and get back to bed with me?” Ryujin grounds her hips over your crotch, stealing a moan from you as the movement catches you off guard. 

“I’m not going to,” You grit out as she repeats the movement. 

“What the fuck?” You hear Rosie’s voice behind you, gathering the strength to push the woman off your lap. 

“I can explain!” You turn to face her, hands up. 

“Come on Chaeyoung, share him,” Ryujin trails a finger up your chest. “I miss him.” 

“Oh you fucking—” You step out of Ryujin’s hold, lungeing for your girlfriend before she mauls the other woman. 

“Let’s go,” You nearly carry Rosie out as she squirms against your hold. A few people stare as you walk by, but she was about five seconds away from causing a bigger scene, that you couldn’t care less. 

Once you got outside, Rosie ripped into you. She called you every name in the book for doing that. When you explained that you were pushing her off, she called you an idiot for even allowing it. You had no response, knowing it was a lost cause. 

Officially dating Rosie for the past few months, you learned a lot, especially the type of girlfriend she was. She’s more affectionate, tender, soft when it’s just you or with her closest friends. She does a lot for you without even realizing you need help. She acts indifferent to the public about things, but tells you how she feels and what she thinks in private. She shows you in more ways than one just how much she loves you. 

But she’s still the same too. 

She still argues with you over anything and everything. She mouths off whenever she doesn’t get her way (you give in anyways). She relentlessly teases you any chance she gets. 

She’s also very possessive of you. She hates when any girls glance your way. She especially despises any of your past flings (except Jennie) as they boldly ask you to hook up with her right there. She can’t stand it when you say she’s jealous because she’s not. But her use of mine is repeated multiple times as she fucks you to remind you who you belonged to, like you could forget. 

She’s still the biggest pain in your ass, but you love her anyway. 

You open your room door, surprised to see Rosie already changed for bed. She’s adorable dressed in your clothes, the size just a tad too big on her body. You quietly close the door, ignoring her movements as you grab clothes from the dresser. 

When you join her in bed, sliding under the covers, you lay on your side, staring at her scroll through her phone. 

“Chaeng,” You pout as she continues scrolling. “Come on, you know I didn’t do anything.” 

“Why’d you let her sit on your lap then?” Rosie says sarcastically. 

“I didn’t. She just sat there,” You reason, rolling your eyes at her pettiness. 

“Cause you just keep your lap available for anyone to sit on?” 

“Jesus christ, you know I don’t. You’re acting like a brat,” You huff, rolling onto your back. 

“I’m acting like a brat?” Rosie raises her voice, her phone tossed on the nightstand. She hovers over you, eyes narrowing, “I’m not the one letting girls openly sit on my lap when I’m clearly in a relationship.”

“Believe me, everyone knows that I am,” You glare, deciding right then and there you’re going to taunt her. “Not my fault my dick’s just that good they miss me.” 

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Rosie scoffs, “It’s not even that good.” 

“What do you have to compare it to? You’ve only slept with me and clearly aren’t going after anyone else’s dick,” It’s a low blow, but she’s starting to piss you off. 

In a flurry of movements, Rosie swings her leg over you, cupping your chin rather aggressively before whispering, “Did you want me to? I’m sure there’s still a line of guys dying to get inside of me.”

Your temper flares, hands gripping her waist before flipping her over. 

Now if Rosie’s possessive of you, naturally you’re possessive of her. Probably worse. 

You find your hands underneath your shirt, and she shivers at your touch. 

“Is that a no?” Rosie moans when you pinch her nipples. 

You remove your hands, reaching for the hem of your shirt before throwing it somewhere off to the side. You rip the shirt off her body before slotting yourself in between her legs, pressing most of your weight on top of her. 

“I guess I have to ask,” You start peppering her jaw with kisses, “Do you want to be disappointed?” 

Rosie moans as you gently suck on her sweet spot, smirking against her skin as her hips roll against your crotch. Your cock twitches, but you don’t let your control slip that easily. 

“How-how would I be disappointed?” Rosie tilts her head back, granting you more access as you continue leaving marks along her neck. 

“You’d be comparing them to me,” You thrust against her, just so she could feel what she’s doing to you. 

“Doubtful,” Rosie’s hand slips underneath your waistband, taking hold of your cock as she strokes you. 

“I know you would,” You whisper against her ear, “You wouldn’t cum, I know that for sure.”

“What makes you so confident?” Her grip tightens, a groan falling from your lips. 

“Maybe cause you’re mine,” You nip at her ear, grounding your hips against hers. Her legs wrap around your waist, an all too familiar move that has you rutting into her, mimicking exactly what you were going to do to her. 

“Yours?” 

“Mine,” You tear the shirt over her head, whimpering at her hand leaving you. You tug her shorts down to see her bare pussy, wet and glistening under the low light of your room. You salivate, but tuck those thoughts away for later because you need to get inside her more than anything right now. 

“Better remind me,” Rosie sighs, breath stuttering, as she stares at the obvious bulge in between her legs. “I could probably walk outside and someone would wanna fuck me.”

Your control snaps, shoving your sweats to free your cock. You miss the gasp falling from her lips, but you hone in as you aim your cock at her entrance. 

“Absolutely not,” You snap your hips forward, giving her no time to adjust to the ruthless pace you set on her body. “Only I could do this.”

You spread her legs wider, watching her eyes roll back. Her hips meet every thrust, taking you just like she knows how to. Her long drawn out moans quickly turn into high pitched screams that ring in your ears. 

“Baby,” Rosie brings one hand in between her legs, furiously rubbing her clit as her walls clamp onto your length. “You fuck me so—fuck.” 

Your earlier irritation bleeds away, suddenly feeling the need to make sure Rosie doesn’t forget exactly who makes her feel this good. 

You fill her to the hilt, groaning into the crook of her neck as her pussy contracts around your cock. 

“Baby,” Rosie pants, chest heaving against yours as she tries to move. Your hips have her pinned against the bed, so it’s futile as she writhes underneath you. “Don’t stop, please.” She breathes out, her hand still moving in between you, creating a delicious friction. 

You want her to beg, but with the way she’s squeezing your cock like her life depended on it has you giving in 

“Tell me.”

“Yours-please, please,” Rosie shakes her head, the pressure in between her legs growing. 

“Mine?” You draw your hips back, leaving the head of your cock in. 

“Fuck, yours,” Rosie screams when you slam into her body, hooking her legs over your shoulders as you resume fucking her with everything you’ve got. 

You’re usually not this rough, but a more primal, baser, need takes over. She yelled at you for something that was completely out of your control. Could you have handled it differently? Sure, but she could have handled it differently too. 

You’ve spent enough time with Rosie to know she acts like this to rile you up. You honestly have no problem putting her in her place, especially if it’s in between her legs. 

Rosie’s orgasm rips through her body, back arching suddenly as her hands hold you close. Her nails dig into your skin, nails scratching down your back, which you know will leave marks. 

“Again,” You command, fucking her thoroughly as her pussy spasms around your cock. 

Rosie’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out as her lips form a perfect ‘O’ before a gush of wetness drenches you. 

You pull out quickly, deciding that she doesn’t get to feel you cum inside her—at least right now. It takes you no more than four pumps of your cock before you explode over her body. You aim in between her lower lips, making a bigger mess of her as your mind shuts off. 

You’re both gasping for air, but your eyes fixate on the rise and fall of Rosie’s chest. Moving on impulse alone, you lower yourself, peppering her chest with your lips. One hand lazily drapes over your neck, scratching softly as quiet moans leave her body. 

“Okay,” Rosie mumbles after a couple minutes, gently tugging you off. “You made your point. I don’t want anyone else to fuck me.”

“Good,” You roll off of her, but quickly pull her body into yours. 

“No one else can fuck you either,” Rosie musters out as threatening as possible. It falls short because she’s still trying to catch her breath, exhausted. 

“I know,” You kiss her temple. “Only want you anyways.” 

“Good,” She snuggles into your side, slotting a leg in between yours. 

You offer to clean up, but she pulls you tighter, telling you five more minutes. You chuckle, knowing her body well enough that she’s going to pass out. 

“Love you,” You murmur, lips on her skin again because you couldn’t get enough of her. 

“I love you,” Rosie sighs dreamily. 

You hear light snores after a minute, eyes rolling fondly. You sink into the embrace, closing your eyes as well. 

You’ll clean later, content with the woman in your arms, who will—if you had to bet—want to go again. 

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