#how did I take this long to realize this IT WAS RIGHT THERE

[xan-izme]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬

Part 2: The Dead Ones

Tag list: @pix-stuff, @sweetconnoissurgarden, @craftymoonchaos, @jsprien213, @hebaoffside, @bunbunboysworld, @melonylla, @numbu5, @tatsuri-zomushiki, @formulas-bitch, @fantasyhopperhea, @otterluver05, @caged-birdies-blog, @minkyungseokie, @una1002289, @vanessa-boo, @welpthisisboring, @sirenetheblogger, @salfishers, @meeeeeeee-stuff, @eylsiankub, @lilithskywalker, @midnightprocrastinator, @lilyalone, @cloudserenity, @wizzerreblogs, @reallynotsoconfident, @deliajo, @bitternsweet, @astterrial, @jjggdfvvy

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You and Bruce were in his office, you let out a puff of smoke as you stood by the window. Taking in the view.

"You know, in Arkham, there wasn't any bars on the windows. More like, plastic glass, so blurry I couldn't even see the moon clearly." The cigarette shortened even more as you took a long drag from the cigarette.

Bruce watched you from his desk, an unreadable expression on his face. You look so. . . it's hard for him to see you as who you are right now. Deep down Bruce knew you'd change some way after Arkham. Which was his sorry excuse for not visiting you. Only reading three of your letters, and stopped, he felt shame when it came to you. For which one of you, he doesn't know.

There are times, he did feel shame of being your father. Horrible, he knows. He's the worst father alive. And that's when he feels shameful of himself.

You let out a small sigh before turning to Bruce, you see the complex expression he had.

". . . You know Daddy, I don't think I ever seen you smile."

You walked closer to his desk and took a seat on one of the chairs. Bruce just silently stared at you. You still call him Daddy. He wanted to feel happy at the fact one thing stayed the same with you. But the way you said it. You said it in such a mocking way. Like it was a joke. Him being your father was a joke to you. It hurt. He rather you call him Bruce in the most hateful way you could.

"Y/n, I'm sorry-" Bruce tries to apologize, but you cut him off with the wave of your hand.

"I'm not here to fish out any apology from you."

Silence fills the room. You sighed again, putting out the cigarette by dropping it into a glass of water. You stood up and approached the vinyl player, you start it up as Bruce raised his brow in confusion. You turn around to face him

"Come on daddy, let's dance." You approached the older man, grabbing his arm and tugged him to stand. Even with how random your request was, Bruce complied, and you two began to slow dance together, the feeling was foreign to both.

The slow music continued as you two danced. You let your head rest on your father's shoulder, staring blankly at nothing. Bruce squeezed your hand. You began to realize. You have never been this close to Bruce. Always 4 feet away.

"When I was a little girl, there was this daddy daughter dance at school. . . I always wanted to dance with you like this. But you were busy. I understood, but it still hurt" Your statement caused Bruce to hold you a little tighter. Before he could attempt to apologize. You spoke up to shut him down.

"Don't you dare apologize."

The two of you continue to slow dance. You closed your eyes as Bruce rests his chin on your head. Closing his eyes. The two of you swaying to the music.

This moment should be a peaceful, loving moment between a father and daughter. But it felt more like an ending to a story that was going nowhere.

"Daddy, I have a question for you."

Bruce hummed in acknowledgement, still holding you tight.

Your eyes slowly open. "Have you seen Mommy recently?" Your question caught your father off guard. Visibly frozen. You lift your head up and see his expression turn a little sour.

"Why?" He spoke, slightly offended. Your spending time with him, why not focus on him?

"She's been missing. For a month. Not even her own family knows where she is. . ."

"Well, I don't where she is. I haven't had contact with her for years."

You sighed and pulled away, turning your back to him. A sign to show you were upset with his answer. Bruce frowns a little at you pulling away, his arms stayed up, almost to reach back for you.

"She visited me, every week, for several years. So please, understand I need to find her." You really were hoping to see if Bruce knew anything. But of course, he disappoints you with nothing. Again.

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You got a text from Rex; your grandfather needed you back at the manor. You didn't have enough time to get your things from your old room, so you left Bruce in his office, walking to the front doors, where Alfred waited for you with your coat, along with Dick, Tim and.. . someone else you didn't recognize. But you focused on Alfred, and gently smile to the older man.

"Thank you for the food, Alfred, probably the one thing I missed the most while locked up." You spoke in a joking manner as you turned to let Alfred put your coat on for you. Alfred smiled a little.

"Thank you, miss."

You look up and give the three men a small nod "Dick, Tim . . . And?" You gave the third man a small look of confusion.

"I'm sorry I don't believe I got your name." You adjusted your coat as you stared up at the man and gave him your hand to shake. But the man just stared at you, Dick had to nudge him to snap him out of it.

The man snapped out of it and quickly took your hand and held it as gently as possible. You took notice of the scars on his calloused hand. He spoke in a nervous tone

"Jason, Jason Todd"

You instantly come to a pause.

"I- Uh, Jason Todd?" You know the name. Very well. But the name doesn't fit the face you remember.

But the look on everyone's face says it all, you know this family would not lie about this. You stepped closer to Jason, your hands hovering over his face, Jason could see your eyes glossed over with incoming tears that never fell.

" How. . .I thought you were dead. . ." You spoke in almost a whisper.

Jason lets out a weak chuckle.

"I thought you were dead too."

No words could express how much he missed you. When he came back from the dead, back into the family. No one dared to mention you. Even when he asked about you. They acted as if you were dead. But you were only a few miles away. Locked up. The thought alone angers him, he could have saved you sooner.

"Heh, I seem to get that a lot." You coil back and felt your phone buzz. Your ride was here.

"Do you have to leave Miss? It's late, why not stay for the night." Alfred tries to have you stay for at least a night.

"You just got here" - Dick

"The crime has gotten worse lately"- Tim

"Please. . .?"- Jason

You sighed as you opened the door,

"Sorry boys, no can do. Maybe another time." You gave them a small smile and turned to the car that was here to pick you up, but when you took a few steps down the staircase, you turn around where the entrance door was still open with Alfred and the boys stood.

"Oh, and Jason" Hearing you speak his name, Jason immediately perked up

"It was good seeing you. . . alive and all." You gave him a small toothy grin, before finally getting into the car.

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Do you understand, how angry Jason was right now? After all this time thinking you were dead, his sweet little sister gone, you were alive, in a cage full of crazy's. He doesn't care if you took a few lives. You didn't mean too, it was an accident.

He was furious with Bruce for letting you get locked up for so long. Because you're staying with the Falcone's, a bunch of criminals that resort to anything if kept on the top.

"She was alive this whole time, and you knew."

Not only was it Bruce, but Dick knew to. Of all people to keep this away from him, Jason wouldn't think Dick of all people would lie.

"No one said she was dead Jay." Dick tried to calm Jason in some way.

"No one said she was alive!" Jason was quick to snap at Dick who just frowned at Jason's tone.

Your reappearance was indeed a shock to everyone and a lot of them are still trying to process it. As for the ones who never knew of your existence, they were trying to find out more about you. Your name has never been uttered, no pictures of you. Nothing. It was like you never really existed.

Thank Tim for that. Who had to remove you completely, so the Wayne name had less pressure on them. But now Tim is trying to gather what kind of rehabilitation you were in. He felt suspicious of your return. The way your eyes would bare into everyone in a sort of creepy way. As if analyzing them, Tim knew if he brought it up to either Bruce or Dick they would not listen to him. Especially by the way they reacted to your return.

So he was lucky Cassandra and Duke came to him first.

"The way she stared at me, I don't know man it gave me the creeps." Duke wasn't saying this out of meanness. You were genuinely making him uneasy every time you glanced at him, even more nervous when you gave him a smile.

Cassandra felt threatened by you. No one but her noticed how you stared at her the most.

"Something isn't right with her." Was all Cassandra said. Something was indeed wrong with you.

". . . Well, she just got out of Arkham, maybe she's a little. . . ?" Duke trailed off. Not wanting to say the word crazy just yet.

Tim silently listened to Duke and Cassandra's concern about you.

"Haven't you known her longer Tim?" Duke questioned.

Tim sat back in his chair as he let out a small sigh. You might have not noticed much, but he was always watching you. From the moment Bruce took him under his wing. You were small. Quiet, and simple. Not like that was a bad thing. At that time Tim wanted excitement, thrill. And you were none of those things, due to the fact you were practically a toddler.

But now, your different. Of course. It's a no-brainer Arkham would change you, he saw it coming. But your change was, unsettling. He hoped you would stay for him to find out more. But it seems your occupied with the Falcone's at the moment. Whatever it is, he's going to find out.

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"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎?"

[esote-rika]

Red is Your Color | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader

Category: smut 18+ MDNI

Summary: You just committed perhaps the most atrocious wrongly sent message ever. By some trick of nature, your coworker is more than willing to play along. (This is from @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient prompt list. Character receives scandalous selfies from a coworker; check out her prompts, they're really fun!)

Content: softdom!spencer, fingering, multiple orgasms (female receiving), p in v, creampie, reader is on the pill, Spencer calls reader a naughty girl and pretty girl, tenderness and lots of checking in, vaguely Christmas themed. 

Word count:  3.1k

A/N: I read something really poetic and profound yesterday and it inspired me to write, but my mind was in the gutter, so this happened. lmfao happy holidays. UNEDITED, I wrote this at 2 in the morning T.T

Do you think Santa would bend me over and punish me?

Spencer Reid was almost too scared to even open the following messages—he’d already made the mistake of opening this one. And there was a barrage of them, sent a few minutes after the very first one, in quick succession, one right after the other. His phone buzzed and buzzed, matching the distracting hum in his brain at the moment. He should probably read the next messages, because surely, surely those contain the explanation to this one.

Unfortunately, his eyes were glued on this first one—it seemed like it was the only one that contained a picture, after all, and what was that they said about a picture saying a thousand words?

What could it mean then, this picture his coworker had sent to him? What did it mean that he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from it? (What did it imply if he didn’t want to? That he liked the picture? That it made his pants uncomfortably tighter?)

He stared at the picture, his eyes greedily taking every inch of smooth skin exposed by the short, strapless sexy Santa dress his coworker was wearing. It wasn’t explicit—she was fully dressed, after all, but the caption, paired with the way she had been posed… Sitting on what he presumed was her bathroom counter, her legs artfully crossed, the fabric of the dress hiked up to reveal long, luscious thighs. With her pursed lips painted crimson, it was obvious what the message was meant to imply and Spencer felt his mouth grow dry. He shifted on his seat, both hands gripping his phone because he didn’t trust them not to wander down, to give himself relief.

No, he should not be jerking off to his coworker. He shouldn’t even be fucking looking at this photo. He should delete it, call Penelope and ask her to rewire his cloud or memory or data or whatever it was called. Just to get rid of it from his phone. That would be the decent thing to do, and Spencer had always prided himself on being a gentleman. 

He knew that would be futile; knew his mind would be treacherous and have the image of her with those supple thighs, and red mouth in his dreams, his nightmares, in every fantasy—

His phone was ringing.

He stared at it, wondering how she was sending so many messages so quickly, before he realized that she wasn’t texting anymore.

She was calling.

His thumb found the answer button without his consent. The next thing he knew, her voice was pouring from his phone’s speaker. Soft. Contrite. Embarrassed. He frowned. What on earth was she embarrassed about, he wondered. She, who looked stunning, who looked good enough to be worshipped—

“—Please say something, Spence.” she was saying, pleading, and something in his gut clenched. That nickname, coming from her lips. That nickname, coming from her lips, while she was wearing that dress.

“Spence—”

“It’s all right,” his voice was strangled. He cleared his throat, “It’s all right. I’ve deleted it.” Lie, what a liar, she deserved better than hastily told lies.

“Okay,” she sighed, relief palpable even without seeing her face to face, “I just didn’t want to get in trouble with HR, on top of everything.”

HR. He almost laughed. They wouldn’t care (unless someone blabbed, like what happened with Derek and Penelope, but he would never do that to her, not in a million years.)

“You wouldn’t, I promise… it wasn’t even that explicit, if I’m being honest.” he heard himself say. He rubbed his eyes in frustration—why did he have to add that?

Her laughter floats from the phone, nervous and low. “I guess not. I wasn’t about to send a complete nude to my friends.”

He straightened up, confused. “Your friends?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice still wavering nervously, “Like I said in my texts, it was wrongly sent to you, I was talking to my friends.”

In other words, it wasn’t for him. He would have known that, had he opened her texts, had he not been too busy ogling the picture she had mistakenly sent, the picture that wasn’t even for him. Something unpleasant burned in his chest, but he ignored it in favor of the curiosity that lingered.

“You send explicit pictures to your friends?”

“I thought you said it wasn’t that explicit,” she chuckled, “But, uh, yeah I do… I dunno, maybe that’s weird, but we were joking around.”

That was something new he learned today. That friends could casually send sexually charged photos to each other. The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. “So you don’t actually want to be bent over and punished?”

Dear heavens, sometimes he understood why his teammates gave him weird looks. If he had a mirror, he would give himself a weird look. Still, he held his breath for her answer, surprised by the wave of disappointment at the thought of her saying no, it was just a silly text.

The pause grew between them, and Spencer was almost about to apologize, when she spoke again.

“I mean, if someone were willing to do it…”

He swallowed. His pants felt tight once again, and he had to force himself to take deep breaths. This was not an invitation, he thought, she had not asked him, she was not saying if you wanted to do it (which, he does, desperately so.)

“Right.” he managed to croak. Another pause, as if she was contemplating. 

“Spencer,” she was whispering now, “Do you want to?”

“Yes.”

“How fast can you get here?”

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

You’re not sure what possessed you into inviting your coworker over, but you did. And now, you’re sitting in your living room, in that blasted sexy Santa dress, panic texting your friends about it. He had said fifteen minutes. Eight minutes had gone by, and you knew he would fulfill his promise. He would be here in seven minutes.

Perhaps you weren’t expecting him to agree. Your perception of Spencer Reid has always been of a sweet genius, wholly brilliant and too preoccupied with academics to even give a second thought to sex and romance. He was a germaphobe, for crying out loud, you had thought it would make him have some sort of aversion to the inevitable sticky, sweaty mess of two bodies coming together. 

But you’d heard it in his voice. Strained, low, and riddled with desire. 

So you had mustered enough courage to ask. And now—

Your doorbell cut through your thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you shoved your phone into a drawer, not wanting to see the offensive piece of technology for the rest of the night. You looked out through the peephole, and there he was, still in his office clothes. Tall, and slender, and dishevelled and yours for the night.

You pulled the door open, ignoring the heavy thump in your chest. 

He smiled. “Hi.”

“You’re early.” You teased, standing aside to let him in. His eyes were glued to you, pupils dilating as he took you in.

“You’re still wearing the dress.”

Right. Once you had realized you sent the text to Spencer instead of your friends, you had spent the next several minutes in agonizing anxiety, sending text after text to Spencer in an effort to explain. In your utter mortification, you had forgotten to change out of it.

He seemed to like that. It gave you enough confidence to surge forward, blindly, recklessly.

“I am.” You said, red lips tugging into a smile you reserved for handsome strangers at a bar. You lowered your voice, just enough for the next words to come out breathless, “Honestly, it’s a little itchy.” 

“Is it?” He stepped forward, crowding you into the door. It creaks as it moves with your weight, the knob clicking in place. He reached forward, and you held your breath, anticipating his hands on you, gently running over your skin, but instead they closed over the doorknob, locking it. He didn’t miss your reaction, though, his eyes a glittering night sky of sweet, utter want. “Maybe I can help you with it.”

You nodded, mouth parted in silence, whatever words you wanted to say have died in your throat.

He brought his hand up, caressing your jaw, and you marvelled at how large his hands are, long fingers reaching the nape of your neck. “Red is your color.” he murmured, before leaning in to capture your lips.

His lips were cold and chapped, and you returned his kiss eagerly in an attempt to warm them. Your mouth opens at one swipe of his tongue, moaning as he leans his whole body into you, pushing you harder against the door. Tonight, you learned that Spencer Reid, the sweet, unassuming genius, kisses like he wants to crawl into you. It’s a sloppy mess of tongue and teeth, and a whimper escaped your mouth as he bit your lower lip.

“Too much?” he asked, pulling away for a moment. 

As an answer, you wrapped your hands around his neck, and returned the fervor of his kisses. You heard him chuckle, felt it on your own tongue as it happened and it made your knees buckle from sheer want. 

His arms wrapped around your waist, hoisting you up into his embrace. You felt him move, stumbling across your apartment before setting you down again. The blunt edge of a drawer hit your lower back, just as he pulled away. 

A whine left your lips. You didn’t know if it was from the pain, or the loss of his kiss.

“Turn around, darling.” he murmured, but your brain was so damn distracted you just stared at him blankly. He grinned, hands at your hips gently maneuvering you to face away from him. “You said you wanted to be bent over.” 

Chills went down your spine as he pushed you forward, elbows landing on the smooth, wooden desk. 

“Y-yeah, I did say that.” you managed to reply. This time, the breathless quality in your voice was not an affectation. You felt his nose on your neck, pushing away the stray locks of hair, before his mouth landed over the skin, open and wet, traversing the expanse of your flesh with reckless ardor. You moaned, craning your head back in a wordless plea for more.

You felt teeth, the sting of it clamping over your flesh. You didn’t even realize you’d yelped until he stopped.

“Sorry,” he whispered, soothing the bite with his kisses.

“It’s okay,” You replied, one hand reaching up, running through his hair. “Do it again.”

The rumble of his laughter made your stomach warm. He sunk his teeth into your neck again, sucked at the spot he bit, and you would have face planted into the desk had it not been for his hands holding you up. 

“You’re a naughty girl,” he purred against your skin, “Aren’t you? Sending that picture to me, I bet it wasn’t even an accident.”

“It was,” you protested, but then he grinds his crotch into your ass and any indignation was stifled by the feeling of how damn hard he was. “It was - I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to make me this hard?” he asked, rolling his hips against you, “I think you knew exactly what you were doing, naughty girl.” Before you could answer, you felt something digging into your ass. He was tugging at your panties. To the side, as if he couldn’t even be bothered to strip it off of you. 

It was hot as all hell.

“My god, you’re absolutely soaked for me.” he groaned into your ear, and you gasped as the rough pads of his fingers ran through your cunt. Somehow, his fingers have remained cold, and the sensation sent a shudder down your spine.

“S-Spencer,” you whined, knuckles finding leverage at the edge of the desk you’ve been sprawled over.

“Mhm? What is it, darling?”

“M-more.”

His laughter filled the room once again, “And I thought I was being needy.” he said, but he obliged your request easily, slipping two fingers into your pussy. His breath fanned over the overheated skin of your neck as he buried his face against your shoulder, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you moved your hips against his hand, chasing the rhythm of his fingers. You’d never enjoyed this by yourself; your own fingers were thin, too short to cause any sort of pleasure when you touched yourself. But Spencer’s hands were large, his fingers long and elegant and perfect. They curled inside you, hitting a spot you’ve never been able to with your own hands, and you cried “Oh, fuck yes!”

It was everything. Quite literally. His arm was holding you against him, his body a solid, lean mass behind you, pressing into the slopes of your own, digging in wherever your softness yields to his hard angles. You moaned and moaned again, as his fingers quickened, as his thumb found your clit and rubbed fast circles until your arms gave out and your entire upper half was splayed on the desk. 

He didn’t stop, cooing soft words into your ear, his tongue and lips and teeth a whole other dangerous territory of its own. You knew you would have hickeys tomorrow. You knew the team would ask questions. You didn’t particularly care.

“Can you take more?” he asked, and you nodded, eager to take whatever he was going to give. A third finger slid into your dripping cunt, stretching you in ways you haven’t felt in a long time and you groaned, head buried in your arms. He paused, his other hand rubbing circles on your hip, “Are you all right, darling?”

“Yes.” you sobbed, and you knew he wouldn’t believe you because you sounded sad, and everything that Spencer has done up until this point proved that, despite it all, he cared. 

“You can tell me if it’s too much, you know.” he murmured. His lips laved featherlight kisses along your shoulder.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, bucking your hips. The idea of being slightly incoherent from the pleasure he’s been giving you was a little too enticing, and you were in no mood to stop, “Please.”

“Okay,” he resumed his ministrations, slower this time, dragging his fingers in and out of you with a precise rhythm, now that he’s figured out your weak spots. “You are so pretty like this, darling. Dress hiked up, your lipstick smudged.”

A mewl came out of your throat, and you would have been embarrassed if you still had the presence of mind to feel an ounce of shame. He coaxed a second orgasm from you, and you marveled at the fact that he could elicit responses like these with just his fingers. It seemed unfair, but a large part of you reveled in it.

“That’s it,” he whispered, slowly pulling his fingers out, “That’s my pretty girl.”

You lifted your head from your arms. The sight that welcomes you is a blurry one, impeded by the clumpy eyelashes and messy tears that had gathered in your eyes. You knew you looked a mess, far from the pretty girl he kept repeating, but you ate up the praise all the same.

As if by their own accord, your hips move back, grinding into his erection. You wanted more. You wanted him to be in the same daze you were in right now, wanted to be one. “Spencer,” you whined, and he laughed, and you wondered if it was possible to get drunk off of a sound.

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he replied, playfully chastising, but the sound of his belt buckle reached your ears and you grinned.

“Just wanna make sure you get something too.” you mumbled.

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I had forgotten a condom?”

Now it was your turn to laugh, bracing yourself on your elbows again, and looking over his shoulder.

“Wow, isn’t your whole thing the complete opposite of forgetting?”

“I was a little distracted.” he said, his smile sheepish.

“I don’t mind,” you replied, “I’m on the pill.” 

“You’re sure?”

“Mhm-hmm.” You nodded, one arm moving and blindly grasping for the zipper of your Santa dress. His hand gently encircled your wrist, placing it back on the desk.

“It stays on,” he said, as the blunt tip of his cock pushed past your pussy, “I told you, red is your color.”

Your mouth dropped open as he sheathed himself inside you in one thrust, and wordless expression of pleasure. He had spent a large chunk of time fucking you with his fingers, and the necessity of it dawned upon you now.

He was big.

The stretch made you groan, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy fluttered around him. He pressed his body over yours, pushing you into the desk as he began to rock, in and out of you. Involuntarily, you clenched around him, earning a sharp hiss.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, holding you tightly around the waist with one arm. The other went to the desk, steadying himself as he found a rhythm that made you writhe beneath him, “Oh god, yes.”

You couldn’t even respond, your body moving on autopilot, meeting his every thrust with your hips. The sounds your bodies made were obscene, wet, sloppy noises of flesh meeting flesh. It filled your head, made you dizzy with pleasure. 

“Spencer,” at this point, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve repeated his name. The world has anchored all meaning to that one sound, and you said it, over and over again, “Spencer.”

“Mhm,” he responded by snapping his hips, pushing his cock so deep into your toes curl, “That’s it, darling, say my name.”

“Spencer,” you said in your broken voice, every repetition turning higher and higher in pitch, and it seemed like the higher your voice went, the harder he fucked you. Your desk banged against the wall from his rough thrusts, joining the cacophony of sounds from your coupling. 

His pace grew rougher, faster, his grip on you reaching the point of painful and bruising, but it made your head spin in the most delicious way possible. You clenched around him, squeezing his cock in an attempt to find your peak, and instead initiating his.

“Fuck—” he groaned, as his load exploded inside you, somehow filling you even more, and you dropped your head to the desk again as your own body shuddered with release. 

Panting, and exhausted, you both stayed there, bent over the desk half upright, like a tower about to topple. He kissed the back of your neck as you fought to catch your breath. Looking over your shoulder, the sight of him fills your vision, hair tousled and sticking to his forehead, his lips smudged with your lipstick, and you couldn’t help but think that red is his color too.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-three —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: ily

In a split second, the ground seems to open up and you sink down, down, down into a memory brimming with death. Stark white snow surrounds you, soaked with blood beneath your feet. You hear the screams of your sister and Paul. A wall of grey descends over them. There are many, too many. All you can do is—

"Fucking run! Come on, before they smell us!"

Kyle tugs your arm and rips you back to the present. You trap the terror, throw the bow on your back, and sprint. Which way did you even come from? The meadow feels bigger than before. He seems to know so you follow him, fighting through head-high rue.

It doesn't seem like the Greys have taken notice to you yet given the absence of hungered screeches, but you can hear the uneven footsteps continuing behind you. You try to look back at them, but all you can make out through the plants are flashes of grey and green and amber sunlight. You don't slow down. You need to increase the gap so they can't get close enough to scent you.

"She's right over there," Kyle urges.

The tall grasses turn into pine needle covered ground. You make it back to Cherry, who must notice the shift in the air as she whinnies against the rope. Kyle slinks his rifle on his back, unties her with nimble fingers, and without warning, grabs you by the waist and tosses you onto the saddle. You grip her mane to steady yourself. He swings a leg over behind you, then thrashes the reins. She breaks into a gallop, weaving through the trees. 

You look back again once she's gained some distance. They have trampled through the meadow, consuming it, and you realize with a sinking pit that without a horse, you wouldn't have been quick enough to get away. From this height, you can now see just how far back the crowd extends, to the point that they swallow the horizon. 

If they continue this way, they'll reach the camp. 

A barbed fence and trench won't stop them.

You look back ahead of you, the forest passing as a blur in your peripherals. 

"We have to get back and tell them. There's too many," you speak into the whipping breeze. "There is no month."

He tightens an arm around your middle and mutters gravely in your ear. "No, there isn't."

It feels like hours before you make it back, though the sun has yet to fully set. Blood orange streaks the sky. They must be preparing dinner. No one is outside. Cherry slides to a halt in front of the trench and Kyle helps you down with a firm hold, as if he is worried you'll be unsteady, but you brush his hand off and race inside.

You enter with such urgency that all eyes snap to you. Ghost is crouched in front of the fireplace. Price and Nereida are curled on the couch, legs entangled, as he strokes her long, black hair. Blue and Ari are looking through a magazine splayed on the table.

"Greys," you announce, looking around. You land on dark eyes that widen as they take you in. "They're here. They're coming."

"We saw them by the hundreds about 20 kilometers south. Too many for us to handle. We have to move, Price," Kyle says.

Ghost rises. You close the distance and stare up at him with unwavering conviction, ignoring the nausea that has been churning in your gut since the moment you witnessed them. 

"Ghost, we're not fucking around. I saw them. A horde. Bigger than the one that destroyed my camp. We have to get out of here. We don't have the time to wait around until they—"

"I heard you." His eyes sweep over the length of you. "You're alright?"

"Yes," you dismiss quickly. "They didn't get to us. But if we didn't have Cherry..." 

You trail off.

Price stands. "20 kilometers, Simon. They can close that distance in a matter of hours. We move now."

You see a war dance in Ghost's eyes as he releases your shoulder and nods firmly at his old captain. The stiffness in his shoulders and the hard set of his jaw show his realization that the battle he’s been fighting to grapple for more time is unwinnable.

"Dad?" Blue's voice is small from the table. 

He looks at her. "Kid, go get your things. Everything I've told you to bring if we ever had to leave."

"Where—where are we going?"

Price answers. "We start with moving a safe distance away. South, past Loughborough, like I showed you, Simon. Get your map. Gather everything we talked about. Only the necessities that we can fit in the truck."

Then, everyone moves.

A pot abandoned over the crackling embers. 

The magazine left on the table.

You rummage for your things.

Ghost throws a military-grade backpack at you.

"Use this."

You fight trembling fingers to unzip it. You don't own much. Even after cramming all your vials and pill bottles, gauze, knives, and clothes in it, there's space. He fills the rest with food from the pantry. Canned beans, fish, soup, peanut butter. A few packages with bold letters: MRE. Military ready-to-eats. 

Minutes race, and you're back outside. Moonlight floods the sky. Time feels like an enemy. How far away are they now? You swing around back to the truck. Kyle and Price have already loaded guns, food, and the deflated raft around Ghost's kayak. Blue watches them finish packing. She has a backpack of her own and Grim in her hands. Her eyes are red.

Ghost comes out with two heavily stuffed bags of his own. 

"You can't take him."

Blue tightens her hold on Grim. "I'll hold him the whole way."

"You can't."

"I can. I'm not—I'm not leaving him. He'll die."

"Say goodbye to him and get in the truck."

The look he gives her is final.

She knows it.

She kneels down and releases the rabbit.

He lingers by her feet.

Tears flow. 

"You have to stay here, okay? I'm—I'm sorry."

Kyle and Ari give their farewell to Cherry. He removes the saddle. You are tempted to thank her for saving your life, but before you can, Kyle strikes her rear and sends her running toward the north. You hope she can get out of here. 

You, Blue, and Nereida sit in the backseats. Kyle and Ari sit out on the truck bed, while Ghost drives and Price holds the map. Faded headlights cut through the night as the engine coughs to life. The silhouette of the camp outside the window is the last glimpse you steal as Ghost drives through the trees.

There isn't much talking except for Price telling him where to go. When Price unfolds the map, a small paper falls out. Ghost quickly snatches it and stuffs it in his pocket. Blue trembles beside you, but she's silent. You switch between playing with the plastic bracelet on your wrist and reopening the scab on your finger to keep your mind busy. You can't think about the what-if's—not now.

The bumpy ride softens once Ghost makes it to the road. You squint your eyes to read the roadsigns as they pass, but they're faded and it's dark. All you can make out is the letter M: motorway. It must be the M1. You crossed it on the way to the village, but this time Ghost follows it south, opposite of Manchester. 

Not even half an hour into the drive, Ghost swears under his breath. He slows down to a near-stop, causing your forehead to almost slam into the headrest. Your heart stutters when you look out the windshield. A group of Greys, not as large as the one you witnessed, but still sizable, lingers in the middle of the road. The headlights draw their shadows against the concrete—dark, spidery fingers. 

"Go around them," Price directs. "Keep some distance."

Ghost veers the truck left onto the grassy side of the motorway. The ride turns rough again and you notice Blue pressing her knuckles into your thigh. You let her. You watch the group pass through the window—maybe twenty or thirty of them. They are moving in the direction of the woods. Drawn to the terribly strong scent of the mass already congregated in there. 

When the truck fully passes them, your mind drifts. You think of small things. The growing cabbages Blue planted. If they will survive, or be trampled. Ghost's books. The shed you used to sleep. The violets by the pond, in full bloom, soon to be crushed and matted to the ground.

Ghost won't be driving all through the night. 

Price claims it would be a waste of fuel, since they haven't decided upon the safest route to continue further south towards the channel yet. One step at a time. Instead, after passing signs for Loughborough and circling around the quaint, broken town-scape, Ghost drives down a gravel road that leads to a quiet, overgrown ranch. There is a broken barn and eroded fence posts, but mostly grass. At least, that is what you make out in the dark. It should be far enough from the horde to be a safe place for sleep. 

They have two tents with them. Kyle hops out of the truck bed and sets them up with Ari, Price shining a flashlight for their eyes. Sleeping bags are thrown in. 

Nereida touches her husband's cheek. 

"Are you going to sleep any?"

"Not tonight. We'll keep watch." He kisses her knuckles.

Nereida and Ari end up in one tent for the night, and you and Blue take the other. The three men will stay awake, watching over the supplies and keeping an eye out for signs of Greys. You have the stubborn itch to stay up with them—be a fourth set of eyes—but you will yourself to leave your bow at the foot of the tent and bend down to slip inside with Blue. You help her into the sleeping bag since she has never used one before. She curls up inside it.

You are barely inside your own when she whispers, "Twix?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't like this."

"I don't, either."

Moonlight breaches the nylon walls. You can make out the shape of her nose, the glisten in her eyes.

"Are we going to go back?"

"I don't—I don't think so."

Luckily, it's left at that. She doesn't know about her dad's plan for Switzerland yet. Or maybe she is starting to put the pieces together. She doesn't ask. 

You turn on your side to look at her better. You reach a hand out of the sleeping bag to stroke her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm...I'm so sorry about Grim. He'll be okay, alright? He's a smart guy. Learned from you all these years."

"I hope so," she says, quiet. "I don't even have any pictures to remember him by."

"You have your memories of him. All of the small things. Hold tight to those and you'll never forget him, okay?"

"Okay." She shivers. It's cold now without the sun. For a few silent minutes, she simply cries. You stroke her hair, from scalp to ends, and count in your head. It does some to ground you. To ignore the fresh images seared into your eyelids. By the time you reach 248, she wipes her eyes roughly and says your name again. Her teeth are gritted, to keep her warm, or to stop from crying too loud. 

"Yeah?"

"Are you having sex with my dad?"

The question makes your fingers pause in their ministrations.

Something clenches at the pit of your stomach.

"I, um—no. No, of course not."

A shaky breath. 

"You would tell me, right? If you were."

"Yes, of course," you whisper. "Get some sleep, alright?" You give a final stroke to her hair and turn away, flat on your back. 

Sleep is difficult, but the three shadows outside the tent offer a thread of comfort, so you will your eyes to shutter. You dream of an endless meadow. The tall plants turn to hungry mouths. By the time dawn arrives, you awaken, and feel disoriented. You sit upright, looking around and wondering how you got here. You aren't in Ghost's room, in his bed, with his warm body close by. Your toes are numb. You see Blue's face slackened with fatigue, half covered by the sleeping bag, her body snuggled close to yours, and everything comes back to you in flashes. The Greys in the meadow. The quick evacuation. Pulling over for the night. It sinks in. Your stomach howls, but you ignore it, 

There are murmured voices outside.

You carefully unzip the entrance and slip outside so as not to wake Blue. The sky is a muted purple. Price, Kyle, and Ghost are by the truck bed. Price has the map in his hands, and Ghost is showing him two bright red jerry cans. 

"That's it?"

"That's it, plus what's already in the tank."

"And it's full?"

"Bit less than full now."

With everyone else still asleep, you hesitate to make your presence known. You feel like you'd be intruding. But the thought recoils quickly. The more stubborn part of your brain bares its teeth. You have a right to be apart of the conversation. You want to know what is happening. What they plan. 

As you make your way over, chilled arms crossed tight beneath your breasts, it is Kyle who notices you first. His eyes soften. Then Price—his brown eyes lift from the map as he regards you.

"Twix." He greets and you think it is the first he has said your name. Ghost is the one you fail to look at but you feel his stare. "Sleep alright?"

"Just fine." Your eyes flick to the map, noticing new marks that weren't there the last time you looked it over. "Have you guys..." As the words leave your lips, the confidence in your chest falters. You clear your throat in attempt to recapture your resolve. "Have you decided where we are going next? I mean—Switzerland is still the plan, right?"

Price's eyes sweep over you once, twice, before moving to Ghost, brow ticking as if in question. This irritates you—as if he is asking Ghost whether or not he should tell you, and you have to bite your cheek to fight a scowl. 

There is a subtle nod from Ghost that you think you might imagine, but Price looks back at you. "Switzerland is still the plan. We need to get here first—" he taps a finger on the map at the edge of England,"—to the Strait of Dover. The narrowest part of the channel. The biggest question is how. Going through London is the quickest way."

"But London is bound to be teeming with Greys," you frown.

"Precisely."

Kyle threads a hand through his hair, visibly concerned. "But going around it means more fuel."

"Well, how much do we have?" you ask, finally glancing at Ghost. You are scared of the answer.

He lifts the two cans up. "About 43 liters, plus the 30 already in the truck."

You feel relieved. "That's actually decent."

Kyle shakes his head. "Decent, yeah. But we're bound to have to end up taking side streets and stopping here and there for shit that's on the road, which wastes fuel. It's not a perfect drive."

"Well," your eyes move over the truck, then back to Price, "Can't we just go the long way, see how far the truck gets us, then do the rest on foot?"

"Are you willing to carry the kayak, Twix?" Price asks.

You flush. "I mean, it's not impossible is it?"

Ghost sets the cans down. "It's too much to carry. We can't go on foot for very far with the kayak, and we need it."

Because the raft is for six people. Not just that, you realize, as you take in just how much is filling the truck bed. All of the supplies have to make it across the water, too. It doesn't matter if six people can get in the raft if the supplies add to the weight limit like an extra person. 

Somewhere in your thinking a hand brushes over your bicep and you flinch. "Cold?"

It's Kyle. Without your response, he chucks off his jacket and places it over your shoulders. You mutter a quiet thanks and slip your hands through the sleeves. 

You don't know why, but your gaze shifts to Ghost, though you are only met with an unreadable expression before his attention refocuses on the map. He moves a gloved finger over it, landing on Colchester.

"Then we take a longer route on the water. If we avoid London and travel on the east side, we save fuel making it to the coast. The trip across will be longer than the Strait of Dover, but I'd rather take that risk than go through London. It's a fucking death trap there."

"That's a possibility," Price nods slowly, mewling it over. He rubs his beard. "Leaving from the Colchester coastline would mean maybe eight or ten hours to get across, which we can manage—with the right weather." 

"Colchester, then," Kyle says. He seems more keen to this idea, shoulders loosening. "We can take the A14 towards Kettering. Can't be more than an hour or two from here. And then the A11. It should avoid the worst of it."

Price nods and folds the map up. "We keeping moving, then. The longer we stay in one spot, the more risk." He lays a hand on Ghost's shoulder. "This was the right choice, Simon."

Ghost simply nods.

The plan seems solid enough. Drive to the channel and get across. It is the water that makes you the most uneasy, and traveling through France where no one here is as familiar with the landscape as they are England. You've tried to recall what you heard from the radios way back at the start. You know Paris, a major city, succumbed quickly. But what about the rest of it? 

You wonder if Ghost is as scared as you are to be ripped from the small semblance of safety he has had for over five years now. If he is, it doesn't show. He is back to clinical. A lieutenant. Not the man you've grown far too comfortable throwing attitude at.

When Kyle and Price leave to make a small fire with gathered kindling, he tosses the jerry cans back in the truck and grabs your arm before you can walk away.

"How is she?" he asks.

Blue, he means.

You look back at the tent. "She's doing alright, I think. Scared. But she understands." You wet your lips. "She doesn't know, does she? About us heading for Switzerland with them."

"I haven't had the chance to talk to her yet."

You nod, teeth grazing your bottom lip. "Thank you... for letting me be apart of that conversation. I know that I—I don't have as much value here as everyone else, but I am still worth keeping around. I am ready to help. Just tell me what to do, Ghost, and I'll do it. You know I will. I am stronger than I was before, thanks to you."

Ghost's head tilts downward as a breath of silence passes between you.

He doesn't comment on anything you've just said. He takes hold of one your hands. You are confused before he pries it open, grabbing your thumb and inspecting it like a slide under a microscope. The nick from when you cut your hair. The scab you've failed to let take.

"Stop picking at it, unless you want an infection."

"I can't help it sometimes."

He drops your hand. The warmth fizzles. "You still have antiseptic?"

You nod. 

"Good. Use it only for yourself. Understood?" 

"Yeah," you breathe, and wonder with a furrowed brow why he is bringing this up now. There is no chance to ask when he grabs the lapel of the jacket on your shoulders and begins to force it off. 

"Give this back to Kyle. You have your own."

Breakfast consists of jerky, beans, and water that Price and Kyle tapped from a tree. A spile. Of course, they have one. You try not to feel spiteful of how competent they are—prepared. Just like Ghost. If only Paul had such things at his disposal. Maybe he could've devised a stronger Plan B. Maybe they would've been able to get away with you that first time around.

Ghost explains to Blue the plan. That there is no going back, not now or ever. That there will be a new home for them, a safer one where they will never have to flee, far away in another country where other people have made a community, where she could have more friends. It is all wishful thinking, of course, but he has to sell it to her as something certain.

You overhear bits of the conversation as you force yourself to eat. She sounds sad and distant. Detached. Like she hears what he is saying but doesn't really hear it. Still, she isn't crying anymore. When they are done talking, she eats her breakfast in small bites beside Ari. 

By high morning, the air heats up, and you don't need a jacket at all. It is time to move onward. Kyle and Ghost take the tents down. Nereida whispers something to her husband and then disappears behind a tree somewhere. When she returns, she taps your shoulder.

"My period just came," she says, shaking her head. "Quite the timing, huh?"

Oh. "I'm sorry, that sucks. You have little towels and stuff for it?"

She nods. "Yes, luckily. Remember the rosemary I found? I use that to help fight the odor so Greys can't smell it as well. Let me know if you ever need any." You take a mental note. "You know, I was hoping getting my tubes tied would stop things like this. All it did was make it more irregular."

Your brows furrow. "Wait—you mean, you did that before the spread?"

She smiles lightly. "I never wanted to be pregnant. Really makes things less stressful now."

That makes sense, then. That her and Price don't have to worry. The question has popped into your brain a few times now, against your will, whenever you caught sight of them kissing and touching. They seem far too intimate, even in those small moments, to not be having sex in private. 

Just before taking off, you unpack your supplies and wrap up your thumb with some ointment. More than anything you want to crawl under a blanket and hide, preferably back on Ghost's warm bed. But as you crawl back into the truck, that vision fades further behind you, and you will yourself to focus on the road ahead, to keep moving. 

[supernovafics]

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

read part one here!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 6.8k words

summary: in which spending the night with steve only makes things more complicated 

warnings: explicit language, cheating (both reader and steve are cheating on their partners), implied smut, a lot of angst

author’s note: did this for the like ten ppl that asked for it<333 i listened to a lot (A LOT) of i, carrion (icarian) by hozier while writing this so that pretty much explains the super angsty vibes we have throughout most of this lol (angst with a happy ending though so no need to hate me! 🫶🏾)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The time couldn’t have been later than six o’clock. 

For the most part, it was still dark outside, but you could see the beginning bits of the sun rising through Steve’s thin curtains. 

And it was then that you realized that you were still in Steve’s bed when you definitely shouldn’t have been. A fresh wave of guilt began to settle in your stomach as you shifted around to face him. He was still asleep, lips slightly parted and hair a mess. 

You needed to leave— you actually should’ve left hours ago, but you’d fallen asleep way too easily in his bed; something that you’d actually never done before. And even now you still couldn’t find it in you to move, so you instead kept looking at him and pushed away the guilt that quietly gnawed at your stomach and told you that you should be running away right now. 

“You’re staring,” Steve mumbled after a few moments, eyes still shut and the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face. 

You quickly shook your head even though he obviously couldn’t see you. “Not true.” 

His eyes opened and you immediately closed yours, knowing that he caught you but you still pretended as if you were innocent. 

You felt him poke your side barely a second later and you laughed despite yourself. Your eyes opened and you didn’t hesitate to meet his gaze, but then seeing the small happy smile on his face reminded you of why you shouldn’t have been in his bed right then. 

You shifted so that your head was back against the pillow and you stared up at his ceiling, focusing on a random spot. “So, um, are you feeling okay after last night?”

You decided against specifying exactly what happened last night to save you from pointing out the elephant in the room— him being drunk and showing up to your house and a conversation that was honest but also not at all somehow leading here. 

“Yeah, just a headache, but not really.”

You promptly decided to use that as an excuse to get out of his bed. “I’ll go grab something for you. Is the aspirin still in the same spot in your bathroom?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do that.”

You shook your head as you pulled the blanket off and got up. “No, it’s fine.”

You stepped through the door that connected to his bathroom. You avoided looking at yourself in the mirror, for reasons that you couldn’t fully decipher, and simply rummaged through the drawer underneath his sink for a quick second. 

Steve was still in the same position in his bed when you returned to his room, except now he was looking at you with a confused look in his eyes. 

He didn’t say anything or call you out on your current antics though as you tossed over the bottle of aspirin to him, and then you realized something. 

“Oh, you need water too. I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t—”

You waved him off before he could finish his statement and slipped out of his room, not giving him a chance to say anything else. 

It didn’t take long, you knew his house fairly well, and doing the mundane task of finding a glass and filling it with some water was enough to help clear your mind and make you think about everything logically. You realized just how much of a mistake last night was, but the only good thing was that this would be easy to recover from. You two could still go your separate ways and let your different lives completely go back to how they were before you two started sneaking around with each other. 

When you got back to Steve’s room, he was sitting up and leaning back against his headboard. He pushed a hand through his hair, which actually did very little to tame its messiness. 

“Here you go,” You said as you handed over the glass. 

He smiled at you. “Thanks.”

You simply nodded in response at first and then you were speaking. “Yeah, no problem.”

You lingered awkwardly by his bed because you didn’t want to get back in, but you felt as if there was a lot more you should say before you left. “Hey, um, can we agree to actually not do this anymore? I still stand by everything I said in the bathroom yesterday.”

His confused look returned. “We didn’t do anything last night.”

“Yeah, and I think that’s somehow worse,” You told him as you turned away because it became too hard to hold his gaze right then. You grabbed your hoodie off the back of his door and slipped it on. “Let’s just let things go back to normal, okay? You with Nancy and me with Jamie.”

It didn’t necessarily feel right saying the words, but they felt needed. You had to say them. You had to pretend that everything was fine, or that it at least had the potential to be that way. 

“I broke up with Nancy last night.”

For a second, all you could do was simply look at him as the words processed in your brain because at first you were convinced that you heard him wrong. But once they did process, you were immediately blurting out, “What? When?”

“Before I got drunk and saw you,” He answered, voice way too soft to match this huge news that he was dropping on you. 

You shook your head and sighed as you realized that everything wasn’t going to easily go back to normal and be fine like you wanted it to be. “God, Steve, I really wish you would’ve told me that last night.”

“Would it have changed anything? Is it changing anything now?”

“I wouldn’t have let myself come here,” You answered immediately. “If you had told me this when you were standing on my front lawn, I would’ve told you to go and try to get back with her.”

There was a lot more that you could’ve said— that you would’ve seen the conversation you two had last night right here in his bedroom entirely different if you’d known, and you wouldn’t have let yourself fall asleep in his arms if you knew that there wasn’t any hope for things to go back to normal because he no longer had a “normal” to go back to. And you wouldn’t let yourself be here with him in this moment either. 

“Is it changing anything now?” Steve asked again when he noticed that you hadn’t answered that question. 

“No... No, it’s not,” You said after the briefest moment of hesitation and then turned away from him again. “I’m gonna go. You should try to fix things with her.”

“Why do you want me to be with her so bad?” You could hear him ask as you closed his bedroom door behind you. 

Because then I’d feel a little less terrible about all of this. You wanted to practically scream that at him. You wanted him to understand that if things could just go back to how they were then you’d feel okay about how shitty of a person you’d been for the past month and a half. At least, that was the hope. 

However, you didn’t tell him any of that. 

“It’s just, it’s the right thing to do, Steve,” You responded loud enough for him to hear you through the shut door. 

You headed down the stairs, not listening to see if Steve said anything else, and you were in the middle of putting on your shoes when you heard his door open again. You tied your sneakers quickly and terribly because you hoped that you’d be able to slip out before Steve made it down the stairs. 

Perhaps you two needed to have a better conversation that would actually come to some sort of proper conclusion, but you couldn’t do that right then. And then you quickly figured that if you kept pushing him away, maybe he’d get the hint and push you away too, or simply let go. 

You were only able to pull open the front door before you abruptly stopped your fast movements.  

Because Nancy was standing in front of you, finger seconds away from ringing the doorbell. Her eyes met yours and you suddenly wished for the ground to swallow you whole. 

She looked like a girl that had just been broken up with, eyes puffy and red like she’d been crying all night, and you knew that was entirely your fault. An immediate “I’m so sorry” was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say that, not right then. She had the saddest look on her face that was quickly replaced with surprise and confusion when she saw you standing where you were.

“Oh, oh, hey. I was, um… I was just leaving,” You said to her, trying to sound as normal as possible but this was perhaps the most not normal situation ever.

Her eyes immediately narrowed at you. “Oh my god, I knew it.” 

You wondered what she meant. Did she mean that she knew that Steve was cheating, or she knew that he was cheating with you?

You obviously didn’t ask her to clarify, though. Instead, you slipped past her and started walking away. The last thing you heard was Steve saying, “Nance, what are you doing here?” and her responding with some angry words that you felt as if you shouldn’t have heard.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

After the moment you and Steve had on New Year’s— an abrupt kiss on a swing set that led to a lot more kissing in his car—  a sort of routine quickly formed. It became a cycle of ending up in his car or your car or his house, and it was exactly three weeks after New Year’s when he finally saw the inside of yours. 

It was a rare one-off situation where your parents were gone for the weekend and you knew that you weren’t supposed to have anyone over; not even Jamie, even though they’d known him for practically forever. 

You had never had the urge to break the rule before and Jamie wanted to keep a good relationship with your parents and was also too nice to suggest breaking it either, so you initially thought that your nights would be quiet. 

Except you now had Steve in your life. And he didn’t mind breaking the rule of your parents who he hadn’t even met, so he came over to your house around ten o’clock. 

You were immediately trying to pull him in for a kiss when you closed the front door behind him, but he pulled back with a teasing smile.

“Can I at least get a tour before you try to seduce me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him but still nodded at his request. “Of course, I’m so sorry, where are my manners?”

You grabbed his hand before you could think too much about it, and quickly led him through your house and pointed out everything. “Kitchen, small dining room, living room, guest room and bathroom down the hall. And that’s pretty much it for down here. Nothing as extravagant as your house.” 

“I like it.”

“Don’t get too attached because this is the only time that this will happen here.” 

You didn’t outwardly say the exact reason why that was probably the case— it would never make sense for him to come over any other time; it would either be too risky with your parents right down the hall or during a time when Jamie was over. But, Steve understood all of what was left unspoken.

“Got it,” He said and then he smiled at you. “Can I see upstairs?”

You nodded, leading the way once again. “My parents' room is down that way, and I’m right here.”

The door was already open so you let him walk in first. There wasn’t too much you found embarrassing about your bedroom, not the full shelf of books or the few posters that hung on the wall above your desk. The only thing that made your cheeks warm in embarrassment was the wallpaper on your walls that you had since you were a kid and had hoped to change sooner rather than later, but you had just never gotten around to it.  

Steve looked at you after a moment. “Cute room.”

“One day those pink unicorns will no longer be on the wall.”

“I like them. They add character.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even as you laughed at his words. “Shut up.”

The teasing smirk on his face didn’t manage to annoy you as he stepped closer to you and the distance between you two became nonexistent. He leaned in and kissed you then because that was what was supposed to happen and it probably should’ve happened sooner; what you two were doing wasn’t meant to be anything more or less than physical. 

Your freshly made bed became a mess in a matter of moments and clothes were quickly scattered on the floor; his jeans and t-shirt gone and your own tank top and shorts tossed somewhere to the side too.

It was fairly early for a Friday night, and you kind of wondered how Steve could even be here right now, but neither of you ever asked where each other’s person was. It was just quietly understood that when you two were together it meant that some excuse had been made or some lie had been told so that this could happen. 

A part of you knew that you’d eventually feel bad about all of this, but it had only been three weeks and you were able to forget about how bad you should’ve been feeling when you and Steve were together like this; not an ounce of space between your bodies and limbs tangled beneath bedsheets. Weirdly enough, it just felt too right even though it was objectively wrong. 

Soft kisses trailed along your neck and collarbone and then proceeded to move lower and lower. All you could do was sigh in contentment and your eyes slipped shut as you let Steve turn your mind to mush for the time being. 

“You’ve read all of these?” Steve asked you later; when you were heading back into your bedroom after using the bathroom and you saw him standing next to your bookshelf. 

He was shirtless with only his jeans hanging low on his hips, which made sense since you were wearing his t-shirt right then; it had been the closest thing to you afterward. Now, though, you pulled it off and tossed it over to him and then went to grab your own shirt. 

“Yeah,” You simply answered his question as you searched around your room for your underwear and slipped it on once you spotted it partially under your bed. 

Steve pulled one of the books off of the shelf, you couldn’t see what the title said even as you moved a little closer to him. “This is the one that we had to read for that English project last year.” 

You nodded. “Oh, yeah, I liked it a lot, actually.”

“I barely remember anything that happened in it.” 

“That’s not surprising and it’s probably the reason why we got a B+ on that project.”

Steve placed the book on the shelf and then turned around to face you. “Hey, a B+ is great.”

“Yeah, for you, but for a person that actually really likes English, not so much,” You told him and then smiled to show that, for the most part, you were joking. 

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry for holding you back on that project.”

“Apology accepted,” You said. “I also really don’t even need an apology because I’ve had much worse partners than you on things before.”

“Okay, in that case, I feel honored that I haven’t been the worst person you’ve ever had to work with.”

You laughed a little. “And I hope I was the best person you’ve ever had to work with.”

Steve nodded. “Of course, you definitely were.”

You were pretty sure he was joking— even though he didn’t entirely sound like it— so you continued playing along. “I feel honored.”

He stepped closer to you and for a second you thought that he was going to kiss you again, and although that never happened after, you didn’t think that you would’ve reminded him of that or pushed him away. He didn’t kiss you, though; he stopped before he got that close to you and started heading toward your open bedroom door instead. 

“I should probably go,” He said, and you nodded in agreement. 

He could’ve easily stayed the night if either of you wanted that to happen. But, he didn’t ask and you didn’t offer. It would’ve been wrong to, you both could silently agree on that. 

You were kind of starting to become okay with things becoming more and more wrong, though. 

This was meant to be mindless and solely physical, but it was becoming a sort of routine, second nature in a way, to talk about random nonsense or joke around with each other. 

However, staying the night felt like a line you two shouldn’t cross; it felt different than just talking for a while after. It felt a thousand times more intimate and serious and like it went several steps past just having sex or being two people who talked about way too much with each other sometimes. 

“I’ll see you later,” Steve said before he opened your front door. 

“Yeah,” You nodded. “Goodnight.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Barely a month later, and the line had been crossed.

The unspoken rule was broken and there wasn’t even any point to spiral out about it because that somehow wasn’t the worst thing that happened. 

Everything was ruined, or it at least soon would be because you couldn’t imagine Nancy sitting on this information and not telling anyone. She was rightfully mad and maybe you deserved whatever would happen once all of this spread around the school. 

Your walk home from Steve’s house was quick and the sun was completely up by the time you made it through your front door, but it was still early enough that your parents were still asleep and wouldn’t know that you’d been gone for the entire night. 

A part of you wanted to simply just go to sleep when you stepped back into your bedroom, sleep through the entire day, and just forget about everything. But then there was the other part of you that couldn’t not think about everything; the inevitable explosion that was coming sooner rather than later, and it didn’t even feel entirely dramatic to view it that way. 

Ultimately, you decided to take a shower because it felt like the only thing that would help you feel a little better. It ended up being the longest shower you’d had in a while and it actually didn’t do much to make you feel any differently. There was still the guilt that had made a home in your stomach when you woke up and it was now coupled with a lot of dread. 

You left for school at the time you were supposed to leave, saying a quick goodbye to your parents before stepping out of the door, but you turned left instead of right at the end of your block and ended up at a diner. You stayed there for probably way too long, sipping coffee instead of anything else because you couldn’t stomach the thought of having actual food right then. 

You thought about how you could fix things, and if there was even any hope to fix anything, and also what exactly was there to fix. You didn’t want to hurt Jamie, but you were certain that you did, and what could you even say to him now that would magically “fix” what you’d done? 

That you loved him and still wanted to be with him? That everything that happened with Steve was a stupid mistake and you regretted it entirely? 

You had lied a lot over the past month and a half and you didn’t want to just continue piling onto it. But, then the thought of being a thousand percent honest felt way too scary. 

And when thinking about how fucked your life was became too much, you took the newspaper that a random older man offered you and sipped more coffee, and reread the same articles over and over again. 

You eventually showed up to school halfway through lunch. Missing the entire day felt a bit too cowardly and you also remembered that you had to take a Chemistry quiz at the end of the day. However, you didn’t immediately step out of your car once you were parked in the school parking lot. Instead, you leaned your head back against the headrest and let out a sigh, eyes slipping shut in the process as you mentally prepared yourself for whatever you'd have to face inside those walls. 

An abrupt quick knock against your window scared you and made you open your eyes. It was Jamie standing at your passenger side window and you could feel your heart speed up in your chest, and it wasn’t because you’d just been startled by him. 

But, he didn’t look mad at you, just confused, and that felt like a good sign; maybe that meant that the “inevitable” actually hadn’t happened yet. 

You gave him a small wave and then he opened the door and proceeded to get in your car. 

“Where’ve you been?”

“I wasn’t really feeling good this morning, but then I remembered my Chem quiz last period and I don’t wanna miss that.”

He nodded. “Oh, okay.”

He wasn’t looking at you— you could tell that he was purposely avoiding eye contact with you, actually— and it was that that made you realize that he knew. 

“I’m so sorry,” You blurted out. 

“Is it true?”

“I’m so sorry.”

Finally, his eyes met yours and the hurt look on his face made you want to break his gaze, but it would’ve been too shitty to look away because you suddenly felt bad. “I don’t get it... Steve Harrington? Really? Do you wanna be with him now?”

For a second, you didn’t say anything. You couldn’t; no words would form on your lips. And it was then that you realized that you weren’t ready to be honest with this guy sitting next to you who you’d known since you were twelve and considered your best friend since then too. It shouldn’t have felt so fucking hard, but it did, and the worst part of it was that you knew that you had to tell him the truth anyway. 

“Honestly, Steve has nothing to do with how I feel about us and you,” You ultimately said, realizing that you weren’t completely answering Jamie’s question, but he didn’t call you out on it. “I’d been feeling… off about things for a while, but I wanted to pretend like I wasn’t. I wanted to pretend that everything was fine and normal between you and me, so I pushed those “off” feelings away and buried them down, and acted as if they didn’t exist. I lied a lot to myself because I was scared that I’d mess everything up. And then I saw Steve on New Year’s and we did something stupid and shitty that didn’t feel that way at the time, and that’s when I started lying to you. And all of the lying and what me and him were doing never felt completely terrible and wrong until yesterday. But, by the time I actually wanted to do the right thing and try to be a good person, it was too late. And maybe that’s actually a good thing because I would’ve just kept lying to myself and to you too if things hadn’t blown up this way.”

You were rambling and probably not making any sense right then. The thought of ruining absolutely everything still weighed so heavily on you, even though the damage was already pretty much done. There was no recovering from this and there was no “fixing” things, you realized now. However, you were still explaining and explaining and hoping that maybe things could somehow be okay.  

A confused look crossed Jamie’s face. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you were feeling about us before?”

“Because I’m a coward and I wanted to avoid all of this,” You admitted. “And also because it was just so confusing. I love you, you’re my best friend, so it didn’t make sense to me why I was no longer in love with you. And the thought of having any sort of conversation about this scared the shit out of me because I don’t wanna lose you completely.”

Things became quiet for a second and Jamie looked away from you, staring straight ahead at the parking lot instead. 

After a moment, he started speaking again. “Remember back in seventh grade, and I’m pretty sure most of eighth grade too, you used to make me turn around or close my eyes whenever you wanted to tell me some sort of secret?”

The abrupt subject change surprised you, but you nodded anyway. “Yeah, I remember that.”

You weren’t ever entirely sure why you would do that so much. Jamie was the first person you’d ever gotten super close to and you felt like you could tell any and all of your secrets to him, but the act of doing so scared you, so you’d make him look away whenever you did. He thought it was a little weird at first, but he came around to the antic after the first few times. 

“You eventually stopped doing that and you started telling me everything right to my face,” He continued and you understood where he was going then. “I thought that meant that you felt like you could tell me anything, especially all of the shitty stuff.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” You said, and it was a bad excuse, but it was also honest. “And I know that I just ended up hurting you, anyway. Probably a thousand times worse than if I just told you the truth from the beginning.”

He looked at you again. “So, what’s the truth?”

You wanted to break his gaze so badly, but you forced yourself not to. “I love you, I really do, but I want things to go back to how they used to be with us. I wanna just be friends. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” He said softly, and he didn’t sound completely hurt, but you still felt terrible. 

“I’m sorry,” You told him again because it felt like the only thing to say right then. 

He lightly shook his head at you, like he didn’t want you to keep saying it. “At least I don’t have to be scared of your dad anymore.”

His joke made you smile and inwardly sigh in relief; maybe things actually could somehow be okay. 

“There’s literally never been any reason to be scared of him. He likes you more than me. Who else can he talk about basketball with?”

Jamie cracked a small smile at that and a comfortable silence lingered for a bit as you took a look at the time displayed across the dashboard. There were only about fifteen minutes left of lunch and it probably would’ve been a good use of your time to focus on studying for your quiz later, but you didn’t bring it up right then and you didn’t move to grab your bookbag from the backseat. This moment actually felt okay and you didn’t want to be the one to break it.

“I’m just realizing that you didn’t answer my question from before,” Jamie eventually said. 

You glanced at him, confused. “What question?”

“Do you want to be with him? With Steve?”

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that, but you were opening your mouth to stutter out something anyway because staying silent felt like it would’ve been an answer in itself. 

Before you could manage to say anything, though, Jamie continued. “Actually, no wait, never mind, I don’t think I wanna know the answer.”

He still didn’t sound entirely mad, but another soft-spoken “I’m sorry” was on the tip of your tongue. However, he was opening the door and stepping out of your car before it could fall from your lips. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

This time when the rocks began hitting your window in the middle of the night, they were expected. 

You had actually called Steve asking him to come over and he didn’t say no. There was the smallest part of you that thought that maybe he would. 

You pushed your window open and looked down at him standing on your front lawn. “Come up.”

A confused look crossed his face. “You’re not coming down?”

You shook your head. “No, come up.” 

It was risky, your parents were right down the hall and this was pretty different from you sneaking out, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care. 

The way the roof was angled made it easy for Steve to pull himself up and maneuver his way toward your bedroom window. Steve wasn’t completely graceful doing it, but he tried to be, which made it funnier, but you didn’t laugh and instead only smiled at him once he was through the window and standing in front of you. 

“Did that look cooler than it felt?”

That time you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “No, sorry.”

He pushed a hand through his hair and gave you the smallest smile. “A lie would’ve been appreciated.”

“Oh, what I meant to say was that was actually the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” You told him and he laughed. 

“Thank you,” He said and then slipped off his jacket and laid it on the back of your desk chair, which left him in just his white t-shirt. “I didn’t see you around school today.”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t really want to go today,” You said with a shrug that you hoped feigned the proper amount of nonchalance. Your answer was only half of the truth— you actually didn’t want to go, but you also couldn’t seem to force yourself to step out of your car after your conversation with Jamie, it felt too hard to, so you instead ended up back at the diner for another handful of hours. 

You sat on the floor at the foot of your bed now, leaning back against it, and Steve followed suit, leaving only a little bit of space between you two. 

You turned your head to look at him. “How bad is everything?”

“Not terrible,” He answered after the briefest moment of hesitation and you could tell that he was attempting to downplay it all for your sake. “It’ll probably blow over by Monday.”

You weren’t sure that was possible, given just how popular Steve was, but you nodded anyway and your eyes fell to your hands in your lap because it was easier than doing anything else. 

Maybe he saw through the half-hearted nod because then he was whispering to you. “It’ll be okay.”

You didn’t say anything in response to those quiet words, but they did manage to soften something inside of you. You pushed away the thought of school and what Monday would look like for you; what everyone probably now thought about you and the shit people would say because of it. 

You looked at Steve again and he gave you a small hopeful-looking smile that you suddenly felt like you didn’t deserve. 

“I feel like I was way too mean to you this morning and I’m really sorry about that,” You abruptly told him. 

Steve shook his head at your words. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”

His hand found one of yours then, intertwining them. It felt like way too tender and sweet of an action, something that had never been done between you two, but it also felt entirely right. 

“Did you ever think about why it was so easy for us to do it? To lie and cheat?” You asked him, not holding eye contact and instead focusing on the floor. 

You knew your own answer to the question, but you wondered what his was because he never seemed entirely unhappy with Nancy, and since you two rarely ever talked about your respective relationships, you felt like you knew nothing about where his head had been. 

“Honestly, I didn’t think about it.”

“Why did you do it?” You asked. “Why’d you want to kiss me that night?”

There was no pause or hesitation before he answered. “Because it was you.”

That was probably the cheesiest thing you’d ever heard, so you immediately nudged his shoulder and rolled your eyes. “Stop it. Be serious.”

“I am serious,” His hand gave yours a light squeeze, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You remember the first time we met up after school to work on that English project?”

You did remember it, but you only nodded because you really wanted to hear what he had to say about it. 

“We hung out for like two hours that day. Worked on the project for a bit and then just talked about random stuff for most of the time, and it was all just so easy for some reason; so damn easy to talk to you. I looked forward to every day that we had to work on the project after that. And then I think it was one of the last few days of us doing it that you randomly mentioned that you had a boyfriend and I realized that I had zero shot with you.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you had expected Steve to say, but you knew that it wasn’t that. He was right that the conversations you two had then had been pretty effortless and nice, but hearing that he liked you all the way back then felt like something that you immediately wanted to shake your head at and deny. There hadn’t been any moments during those two weeks that gave you any indication that he liked you in that way. Yes, he was flirty, and he wasn’t even dating Nancy yet so it could’ve been plausible that he really was flirting with you, but you figured that was just his personality; everyone knew just how damn charming he was. 

“And then all those months later I saw you in that backyard. And things were going fine with me and Nancy, but I suddenly really wanted to talk to you. Because you were alone, and I thought that meant that you and Jamie were over because why else would you be alone on New Year’s? But, no he was still in the picture, but you didn’t tell me to fuck off because of him, so I didn’t.”

Things got quiet for a second and before you could really even think about how to respond to that, Steve was speaking again. “Why’d you let me kiss you that night?”

“I didn’t think about it too much,” You immediately answered him, suddenly finding it so easy to be honest. “Deep down, I knew it was a bad idea, but that wasn’t enough to make me wanna stop it.”

You shifted closer to him, closing the last bit of distance between you two and leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“It was the kind of bad idea that felt like a good one once it was happening if that makes sense,” You continued. “It felt nice and good and really… Right. Even though it shouldn’t have.” 

“Yeah, it always felt right,” Steve agreed, voice soft. “It still does.” 

A part of you couldn’t help but think that even though this moment felt right too, maybe it also shouldn’t have felt that way. But, everything else— what made this all so wrong in the first place— was already ruined and over, so perhaps it was okay to finally lean into this rightness since you wouldn’t end up feeling bad or guilty about it in the long run.  

You pulled your hand away from Steve’s and then shifted so that you were in his lap, legs on either side of him and knees pushing into the carpet below you.

Your eyes met his soft brown ones that looked unsure of what you were about to do or say next. 

“I really like you.”

It was the first time you were admitting it out loud and as the words fell from your lips and settled in the quiet air of your bedroom, you realized just how long you’d been aching to finally say them to him. 

The smile that spread across Steve’s face practically melted your insides. “I really like you too.”

Your hands came up to settle on his shoulders as you nodded and smiled back at him. “Cool, nice to know that we both like each other.”

“Really like each other,” He corrected you and then leaned in to press the quickest kiss against your cheek, which made you laugh a little. 

“Oh, sorry, you’re right,” You said and then it was your turn to lean in. You brushed your nose against his and your eyes slipped shut as you whispered your next words against his lips. “Really like each other.”

You started pulling back but Steve’s mouth chased yours, putting an abrupt end to your teasing. You gave in easily and leaned into him, returning his eagerness and inwardly sighing in contentment at the feeling of his lips on yours. Your pajama shorts rode up as you shifted in his lap and one of Steve’s hands moved to rest on the sides of your thighs to keep you steady. 

You wouldn’t mind kissing him forever. It was a thought that hit you a lot in moments like this— as mouths explored and hands roamed— and this was the first time that that thought didn’t scare or worry you because it wouldn’t actually complicate things like it would have before.

You pulled away from his mouth after a moment and your lips found his neck instead. He let out a low hum the second you grazed your tongue over a particularly sensitive spot on his skin; you had discovered it the second time you two made out in his car and you adored the soft sound he made when you found it. 

“You still have unicorns on the wall,” Steve abruptly said and the words felt so random that you stopped your movements. 

You let out a laugh against his neck. “Shut up. Why are you bringing that up right now?”

“Sorry, I had to turn down the mood somehow,” He said and you pulled back to look at him. “Since your parents are right down the hall.”

“Well, I guess that just means that you have to be really quiet for once.” 

He let out a sound that resembled both a scoff and an amused laugh. “Me?” 

The tiniest hint of a smirk played on your lips as you nodded, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, you get really loud, Harrington.”

“I think we have very different memories of what this last month has been like,” He said and then he was tilting his head up and finding your lips again before you could potentially say anything in response to him.  

His hands moved from your thighs to your hips and he pulled you down against him. There were some layers separating you two— your thin shorts and the sweatpants Steve had on— but it was still the perfect amount of friction. You were brushing roughly against the tent in his sweatpants, which made you inadvertently moan into the kiss. 

“See?” Steve mumbled against your lips. “You’re the loud one.” 

You pulled back a little, it was too hard not to laugh, even as you playfully rolled your eyes at him. “That was very evil.” 

“I’m sorry,” He said, but smiled at you. “Come on, let’s go to my car. Maybe head to the lake? You can be as loud as you want there.”

You nodded at his teasing suggestion, but still slotted your lips against his once more, not wanting to move out of this position just yet. Steve didn’t seem to mind at all and he pulled you closer, as close as you two had been so many times before.

You could recognize that this was a weird set of circumstances and the smallest part of you was trying to figure out how much of it you’d end up looking back on and regretting— the lies and secrets that started all of this and ended up hurting people just like you knew it would. But, in this moment, you deliberately didn’t think about that. Instead, you focused on Steve and how glad you were that he was here and how happy you were to have him in your life. 

You whispered those sentimental words to him moments after they hit you; labeling them as cheesy and he immediately shook his head and told you that they weren’t. 

“I’m happy too,” He whispered back and one of his hands came up to find your cheek. The way he stroked your skin so tenderly made you suddenly turn shy under his gaze, but that didn’t make you want to look away from him. “That I’m here with you. And that you want me to be.”

“I think I’ll always want you to be,” You said, voice still soft and quiet, and it didn’t hit you how true those words were until they were out in the open. Maybe they were a bit blindly optimistic, but that didn’t change how much you meant them right then.

Steve kissed you again and you two stayed like that for a little longer before you moved out of his lap and the two of you finally headed to his car.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

[chosove]

18+ mdni | hockey player toru

an. *GUNSHOTS* *EXPLOSIONS* *CUMSHOTS* HEAVYYY inspo from this one iwaoi ff i read on ao3 in 2021. shit was so good its still in my head, if anyone knows the name lmk so i can cred properly! they did it better yall

pairing: NHL satoru gojo x interviewer f!reader

this was the interview of your career. the one that would take you from a nobody to the columnist you’ve always wanted to be. of course you were grateful, who wouldn’t be ecstatic to speak to gojo “the strongest” satoru, Jujutsu Slapshots newest star. from his innate talent to unreal looks, it’s no wonder gojo satoru was everyone’s recent obsession, including yours. this was all that was running through your mind as you stared at the tall man sitting in front of you, his lanky legs stretching out before moving to tap your foot with his, trying to get your attention.

“as much as i love when pretty girls stare at me, we should probably start with the questions right?”

finally hearing his voice broke you out of your trance, red blossoming on your cheeks when you realized just how long you were staring at him. “r-right! sorry, um” you flipped through your notebook, scrambling to find something- anything from the hundreds of questions you had for him. opening up a random page, you began reading without processing any of the words. “gojo, a lot of your fans praise your skills on the rink, but are curious about what you’re like outside the game. do you keep up your fierce persona, or is that reserved for your opponents?”

your words tumbled out a mile a minute, mouth slightly gaping when you finally looked up at the man you were interviewing, only to find him already staring at you, trademark charming smile plastered on his face. “that’s a good question…” he began, hand gripping his chin as he pretended to think deeply. “honestly im just a regular guy. i like sweet treats and don’t like doing anything on days off. i’m only ��fierce’ as you would say when im talking to a girl for example.”

your hands were jotting down his words rapidly, the sly confession of his only registering after a few seconds. “o-oh! and um…what would you say is the type of girl you go after?”

he quirked a brow at this, head tilted to the side as he looked at you with those intense ocean eyes. “is this a question for on-the-rink gojo satoru or boring, everyday ‘toru?”

you giggled at his phrasing, wondering how to proceed. if it was any other girl they’d jump at this opening to lay it on thick (and you were tempted), but just to test the waters you decided to take it easy. “is it okay if i say both?”

gojo nodded, never breaking eye contact with you even when you looked away, unable to hold his strong stare. “well, the star of Jujutsu Slapshots would say anyone who can balance me out but still match my energy. i want someone to ground me but keep up with me if we’re at a carnival, y’know?”

you nodded, intently following his statement and subconsciously comparing yourself to each of his requirements. “regular me though, would say pretty girls like you who have my jersey number on their water bottle have me wrapped around their finger.”

your head shot up at the rest of his statement, finally maintaining eye contact for more than a few seconds. holy shit, was this your chance? what if he was just being polite and you were about to ruin the whole vibe…worth a shot though, right?

“i-is that so? ‘cause for girls like me, our ideal type is a hockey player named gojo satoru”

he chuckled at your response, shaking his head before standing up and moving towards you. “looks like we’re both in luck then. why dont we take a break now? all this talking has me really thirsty.”

looking up at him like this made you realize maybe you were in over your head, he was above you in every way including physically right now. maybe if you focused on it a bit longer, you’d find it in you to decline the offer to see his actual jersey that just so happened to be in his bedroom. maybe you’d say no to his offer of trying it on.

who were you kidding? you would never be strong enough to deny that. maybe that was the same reason you didnt stop him from lying you on his bed, slipping off your pants because ‘you’d look so much better in just my jersey’. and since you were at it, you could blame that same part of yourself for obediently spreading your legs when he asked- he was just so thirsty, who were you to deny him?

“o-oh fuck, gojo” you whined as he wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking before flicking his tongue against it.

“call me ‘toru pretty girl, think we’re past the formalities yeah?” he rasped, fingers coming up to pump in and out of you as he traced the letters of his name against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

he’d already pulled 2 orgasms out of you, swallowing down every drop of your essence while grinding his hips against his bed harshly, borderline fucking his mattress as he overstimulated you. “don’ have anything l-left ‘toru” your voice cried out, tears spilling from your eyes as your hips crashed against his face despite your protests.

pushing his fingers deeper, he curled them to reach all the spots you never could, repeating the movement until he found that spot that left you gasping for air. “thereeeee she is, pussy’s dripping all over me but ya have nothin’ left?” satoru laughed ay the irony of your words, relishing in the way he seemed to memorize sll the sensitive parts in your body this fast. “go ahead n’ cry pretty, but don’t lie to me”

your voice cried out a sound you thought was his name, but it was hard to be sure at this point. with how rapidly he was fingerfucking you while his mouth attacked your clit, you weren’t sure you’d ever produce a coherent word again. it didnt take long until you were once again on the edge of cumming, hands flying to his head as you desperately humped against his face. satoru didn’t complain though, he’d die happily if it was between your legs.

“c-cummin…’toru i c-can feel ngh”

‘that’s right princess, cream all over my fuckin’ fingers, know how bad your pussy needs this yeah?” his muffled voice spoke into your cunt, impoosibly apeeding up his ministrations until he watched your body convulse against him, a spray of clear liquid shooting out of your pussy.

riding out your orgasm against his tongue, you finally flopped back and attempted to catch your breath, eyes going wide when you felt his hands pull his jersey up to expose your tits.

“think ya can squirt again for me, but on my cock this time?”

[pintrestgrl]

hihi it's me again, i feel super hyper rn , but bsf!jj has been stuck in my head!!! specifically bsf!jj & innocent!reader , it starts off as a innocent little hangout at the chateau and ends with a head full of blonde hair in-between readers legs .... reader vents about feeling starved-touch since the last time jj had played with her (story for another time) and jj, being the best friend he is obviously takes action!! after all isn't that what bsfs are for !

- 🩰

BSF! JJ ‘ND INNOCENT!READER

you missed your bestfriend. that’s all this was. simply, a quick hang out to ease the boredom. however, there was a few pushed away thoughts in the back of your head.

ones that consisted of missing jj for other reasons too, like physical ones. you remembered everything from that one night, the night where you two shared a few hundred kisses, and he had touched you in a way that left you wanting more.

you had never done that with anyone else. never done that at all, before that night. never gave up your body like that, been seen so vulnerable infront of someone. and nobody ever made you feel the way jj did that night.

that’s how you found yourself at the chateau, sat on the couch with him. john b and sarah were out at the beach, pope studying and kie grounded. it was just you two. you first started to watch a random movie he found, before you grew bored.

you didn’t wanna be doing that— you wanted him showing you the same amount of touch he did that night. you slowly began to gain the courage, speaking. “jay, i don’t wanna watch this.” he raised his brows, looking over at you. “you told me to pick whatever. what do you wanna watch then?”

you rolled your eyes. it was beginning to annoy you how stupid he was being. how you could feel your panties sticking to you. “i don’t wanna watch anything. i just—“ you paused, unsure of what to say next. you didn’t wanna seem weird.

jj had brushed past that night like it didn’t matter. you two never brought it up again, therefore it shouldn’t have mattered or affected you this much. but it did, whether you chose to acknowledge it or not. he noticed your nervousness. “what? spit it out, kid.”

you had enough of whatever game this was. you just wanted him close to you again. you began to speak, rambling. “i just— i can’t stop thinking about that one stupid night and what we did— i haven’t even been touched like that since then and i don’t know what to do and—“

he interrupted you, speaking. “you coulda just said that shit. didn’t really need to throw a whole fit about it.” you sighed with annoyance, getting frustrated. “really? that’s all you have to say?” he laughed, remarking right back. “i can show you better then tell you.” you furrowed your brows, confused.

he slowly began to change his position, laying on his stomach in front of your body. you began to get nervous, body tensing. he slowly kissed right below the hem of your denim shorts, the kisses leaving wet marks. he sat up, pressing another wet kiss on your lips this time.

you returned it, feeling his hand subtly creep up to unbutton your shorts. he shimmied them down your body, still continuing the sloppy kiss. he ran a finger through your panty clad folds, feeling the wetness coat his finger.

he slowly pulled away, laying back down. he was eye level with your cunt, and it made you feel embarrassed. but the feeling slowly went away, realizing this was your bestfriend. the same kid who had seen you in all phases of your life, awkward and not.

you eased up, watching as he slid the panties down your legs next. he licked a long stripe up to your clit, attaching his lips around the bud. he sucked, moving your thighs to lay on his shoulders as he held your thighs open. you whimpered, he had never done this to you before.

the farthest you went with him was fingering. this was different. it made you want him all the more. he dragged his tongue back down, sloppily pushing his tongue inside your pussy. he drew out a moan from you, your hands going to the blonde boys hair.

he continued his motions, hands holding your hips down as you writhed under him. you were getting close. you recognized the feeling from the last time with him. “mmph— jay, oh my god,” he chuckled into your folds, the vibrations putting you over the edge.

you came, his mouth once again attaching to your clit to ride you through it. you moaned, the feelings beginning to feel too much. you pushed his head away, as he laughed and sat up. he wiped his mouth. “you feel better now?” he said, grinning.

truth is, it did. seriously. you nodded your head, as he slid your panties back on. he sat back against the couch with a sigh, his hands going behind his head.

it went silent for a minute, before he spoke. “next time you need that, just tell me. don’t make it all weird ‘nd shit.” you nodded, his words registering in your mind. that plan sounded better, to you.

you didn’t wanna play a game like that again.

[lunajay33]

Suppose to be You

•🖤🍑🏹🧟‍♀️•

Summary: You’re Shane’s girlfriend but when the apocalypse hits you find him changing and find yourself leaning more towards the only person who gives you the time of day, also you’re Rick’s younger sister

Pairing: Shane x f!reader, Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Shane’s a cheater obvi, harsh words, Merle

•Masterlist•

I first met Shane when my older brother Rick first started bringing him around the house, I never thought much of him but as we got older he started flirting and we only started dating when I turned 22, about a year ago, it’s been fun but then I lost my brother and then the world got taken over by walkers and that leads to now, camped out in a quarry on the outskirts of Atlanta

We took my sister in law, Lori and my nephew with us but after being here for a while Shane’s been treating me differently, like I’m just a burden to him

Sitting around the fire I’m sat across from Shane as he’s right next to Lori, I understand him wanting to console her her husband died, but he was my brother and I’m Shane’s girlfriend I just thought he’d try to console me even just a little

“You alright sweetie?” Dale asks from next to me

“Oh I’m fine thanks for asking though” I smile trying to brush it off but inside I’m hurting deeply like I’m loosing everything

“I think I’m just gonna head to bed early” I say standing up to leave, all Shane did was glance at me before his eyes went back to the fire, Carl got up and gave me a quick hug

“Night auntie y/n” he smiles, he’s always been the sweetest kid

“Night honey” I walk away as the cool of the night started to envelope me, instead of going back to the tent I went down to the quarry shore, I knew how to take care of myself around walkers I just need to be alone

I sat down feeling all the pressure weighing down on my chest, I lost my brother, then the world ends and now my boyfriend treats me like garbage, what else do I have…….whats the point

Finally letting the tears fall I let it all out before I hear branched snapping behind me, I turn nervously wiping the tears away sighing in relief when I realize it’s just Daryl Dixon, thankfully not accompanied by his ass of a brother Merle

“What’re ya doin down here alone” he asks his eyes squinted at me but for some reason he didn’t make me nervous

“Ummm just needed to get away, what’re you doing down here?”

“Just came back from a hunt saw ya down here……wanted ta check on ya”

My heart skipped a beat, something I haven’t felt in a long time now

“Come on let’s get ya ta bed” he huffed motioning back towards the path, it was a silent walk up to the camp but it was a comfortable silence

I got to mine and Shane’s tent when I hear his fast heavy footsteps heading our way

“The hell are you doing alone with Daryl Dixon” he groans gripping my arm and roughly pulling me away from Daryl

“Shane that hurts, he was just keeping me company” I look back at Daryl and I swear if looks could kill Shane would definitely be dead on the ground

“Get lost Dixon, go back to your dick of a brother” Daryl’s eyes landed on mine and I could see them soften before he left, the further the got the more I wanted to run to him instead of being near the person I should be safe with

“The hell were you thinking”

“Like you’d care” I sigh looking down to the ground

“What’re you talking about you’re my girlfriend of course I care”

“I can’t do this right now Shane I just wanna go to bed, I think I’m gonna stay with Carl tonight, Lori can stay with you bet she’ll love that” I brush him off and walk past him to the smaller tent Carl and Lori stayed in, thankfully they were still out so I could just finally have a moment of peace

How could I feel more peace and safety around a redneck man that I barely know, than my boyfriend I’ve known almost my whole life

I quickly drifted off to sleep welcoming the darkness

•

I woke up early the next morning to the subtle chirping of birds, I quietly left the tent trying not to wake up a still sleeping Carl

Looking around there wasn’t anyone up yet so I went at sat at the camp fire that still had some embers burning

“Hey, what’re ya doing up so early” I hear next to me seeing it’s Daryl again, usually he’d have a snippy attitude with the others in the camp but lately he’s been nice to me and I honestly didn’t care why I just needed someone to cheer me up

“Just couldn’t sleep much I guess, I’ve got a lot on my mind” I say poking at the fire

“Here” he grunted handing me a granola bar he must’ve gotten from his stash

“Thanks”

Then he was gone dissapearing through the thick tree line most likely going for a hunt again

Slowly people started to filter out of their tents and start getting ready for the day, I see Shane making his way towards me with his typical scowl that he never use to use towards me, I look away and turn my back to him

“Have you calmed down since last night” I scoff looking up at him as he towered over me trying to scare me asserting his dominance

“Just leave me alone, you only act like I matter when someone else is giving me attention, tell me do you even love me anymore?” He paused for a moment before answering

“Of course you just gotta stop being selfish I’m trying to console a grieving widow”

“Yeah well he was my brother Shane, did you forget that, just get away from me” I brush past him going towards the trees for some peace and quiet but when I’m deeper in the woods I feel him behind me squeezing my shoulder and he pushes me against a tree

“Shane what are you doing let me go”

“You better watch your mouth don’t forget who saved you when all this started” now he’s trying to guilt trip me

“I could’ve made it on my own, I probably would’ve been happier alone” he raised his hand before a bow zipped between us landing on the tree next to us

“You touch her like that again don’t think I would beat your ass down” Daryl growled coming closer taking my hand and putting me behind him as he stared down Shane

“You think you could take me Dixon, you may be a filthy redneck but don’t think I won’t take YOU”

“Shane just go away, why don’t you go check on poor Lori” I say holding onto Daryl’s arm tighter out of fear, a fear I’ve never felt around Shane before

He huffed before tromping off back towards the camp, when he was far enough away I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I let all the emotions flood me

“God Daryl I’m so sorry to get you mixed in this, I don’t…..I don’t know why he’s like this, he never us to treat me like this and I’m…..I’m scared to be around him now” he takes both my shoulders in his hands and makes me face him gently

“It ain’t yer fault peach, I’ve been around my share of angry men and he’s a ticking time bomb, ya can’t be stay around him”

“If you can’t tell I don’t have no where else to go” my chest felt like it had a thousand bricks on it

“Ya can stay next ta me, we got an extra tent”

“Are you sure, what about Merle won’t he be mad”

“I can deal with that grump, come on let’s get ya settled” I’ve never heard Daryl speak so much but I can’t complain he’s like my saviour right now

•

We got the little tent sat up next to him that was a bit further away from the others but I didn’t care much, the further I am from Shane the better

“Thanks for all this Daryl” I say as we both finally settle down around the fire he sat up since night was falling

“Look at this, my lil bro got himself some tail” Daryl was cut of before he could speak by Merle’s grating voice as he plopped down across from us at the fire

“Merle give it up”

“She staying here now, good ta know we got some action right next door” he grins that sends unsettling chills down my spine

“I’m not doing that Merle for the thousandth time, I just needed some space”

“Finally figured out yer cop boyfriend is cheatin on ya?” My heart stopped, suddenly everything made sense, why he always stayed with Lori, why they’d both dissapear at the same time, why Lori could barely look me in the eyes

“Oh my god I feel so stupid how did I not notice I must look so pathetic to everyone” I groan as I drop my head in my hands

“He dont deserve ya, he’s the pathetic one” Daryl said softly as I heard Merle’s steps retreating into his tent, Daryl must’ve shooed him off

“You know why my brother first got shot I was a mess, couldn’t leave his side I was always so filled with anxiety I was basically wasting away but one day Shane convinced me to take a day to myself so I did, I went home and cleaned up and everything, the next thing I know Shane is busting in dragging me to the truck telling me everyone is dropping like flies and my brothers dead, then suddenly he treats me like a piece of trash, only Lori mattered, and…..he almost hit me today, that’s not the man I knew something’s wrong with him, sure he’s always been a bit hot tempered but this is different and all I can think about is……what is he comes after me again but no one’s there to help me” I sigh finally letting everything off my chest

“Ya ain’t goin no where alone anymore, I’ll protect ya” he said gently placing a hand on my back for a moment before it was gone again

“I can’t ask that of you, I’m not your problem”

“Believe it or not, yer the only person in this camp that doesn’t drive me up the wall, I’d like ta keep ya around a lil longer” he smiled as his words cheered me up a bit, I’ve never seen him genuinely smile and it’s making me feel all light headed

“Let’s head to bed……it’s been a long day” I stand up heading to my little tent as he did his next to mine

“Night D”

“Night Peach” his gaze stayed on me for a moment longer before he entered his tent, only making me think what life would be like if I had met Daryl first maybe I’d me happier

•

Part.2<-

[vampirekiramman]

GOOD MORNING, BEAUTIFUL | caitlyn kiramman

synopsis: caitlyn catches you watching her sleep in the early hours of the morning, red-faced and red-handed.

details: caitlyn x fem!reader | fluff, established relationship, morning cuddles, and gentle sleepy kisses

word count: 1.5k words

a/n: i’ve always headcanoned that caitlyn would be an early bird. she most definitely gets up at the crack of dawn and gets right down to business in my mind, so this is based heavily on that!! if you’re a night owl, this one’s for you hehe

You’ve been planning this for weeks.

You love waking up next to Caitlyn every morning. Usually, she’s already up, dressed, and working in bed next to you by the time your body pulls you out of sleep, and you catch her smiling at you and stroking your hair with her free hand just as you gain consciousness. Sometimes, though more rarely, you’ll flutter your eyes open at the exact time and just smile at each other, pulling each other in close and lying intertwined before you have to start the day.

Once, and only once, did you wake up before her. You had just had a bad dream and jolted awake in your bed, sitting up to catch your breath. To your left, Caitlyn stirred at the movement, letting out a little groan before settling back down into the pillows beneath her. For a moment, you considered waking her up to comfort you. But the moonlight streamed in through the windows and hit her face just right, illuminating the soft curve of her lips and sharp edges of her nose. You realized then that you had never seen her sleep before. You went to bed at the same time each night, but she was always up first.

So, you fell back down into the mattress and laid on your side, facing her. You took in the way that her eyelashes rested on her high, sharp cheekbones, how her lips were slightly parted as she inhaled and exhaled slowly and rhythmically. During the day, she was always busy with something, always taking care of someone, always moving and always worrying. While she slept, she looked so peaceful. Her eyebrows were relaxed and unfurled, jaw unclenched. You touched her cheek and felt her nuzzle into it instinctively. This was Caitlyn in her purest form, and it was the most perfect thing you had ever seen.

You wanted to see it again. Every night for many nights, you went to bed hoping that your body would wake you before hers did again. And every night for many nights, she woke up long before you like she usually did.

It was over breakfast one morning that you decided to ask, “What time do you usually get up? You’re always up so early.”

She finished chewing her food and swallowed before she answered. Always so polite.

“Well, it depends, but usually I’m awake by five. Sometimes four if I need to get some work done,” she said.

You nearly spit out your coffee.

“Four? As in four in the morning?” you said, incredulously.

Even more incredulously, she said, “Well, certainly not in the afternoon.”

You laughed together over your breakfast, but, inside, you were already crafting a plan. It would be difficult, you realized, but it would be worth it. You never were an early riser, always getting up around 9 or 10 o’clock. Waking up at 4, maybe even 3 o’clock, would be no easy feat for you.

Which is probably why it took you so long to do it.

For the past few weeks, you went to bed earlier and earlier, slowly altering your internal clock by a couple more minutes each night. First, you started waking up at 8, then at 7, and so on until you finally woke up one morning, rolled over to check the clock on your nightstand, and saw it read: 3:55am. Your plan had worked.

You glanced over your left shoulder and saw Caitlyn, still in bed and still fast asleep, no signs of stirring or extra-early rising in sight. Quietly, you inched closer to her face and, for a moment, you just stared. She looked to be deep in REM, her eyes twitching beneath her shut lids. You wondered what she was dreaming about. Were her dreams pleasant? Did she ever dream of you?

You imagined her taking a day off in her dreams, something she rarely did when she was awake. Maybe she would allow herself to wake up later, even later than you, giving you a chance to finally rush into the kitchen and make her breakfast in bed like you've always wanted. You'd walk into your shared bedroom with a silver serving tray carrying all her favorite foods: Crepes with blueberries, rosemary and thyme egg frittata, and lemon ginger tea. You would extend your morning together well into the afternoon, posted up in bed together without a care in the world just for one day.

But, then, maybe that was your dream more than it was Caitlyn's.

You watched her whole body rise and fall as she breathed. You studied the way her body moved with her breath. Her features almost seemed to soften with each exhale. Slowly, you lifted your hand to her face and pushed a strand of navy blue hair behind her ear so you could get a better look.

You let your fingers run through her hair, then traced them down the side of her face and jaw, noting every detail of her outline. Her skin was so soft. You remembered, then, when you first met and she sent you a gift basket of skincare to apply, writing in a note that it was all imported straight from Ionia, and that her father had actually been the one who started her on her own skincare routine when she was a teenager. You used those products every day, thinking of Caitlyn with every serum and cream you applied. You never did get your skin to be quite as soft as hers.

You looked a little ways over her shoulder and saw a number of half-empty creams sitting on her bedside table that she applied nightly. One for her face, one for her elbows, and one for her hands. You smiled and traced your fingers down her arm, feeling every inch of skin. Despite her best efforts, her hands were still calloused from carrying her gun around all day. You didn't care. You grasped her hand in yours anyway.

Just then, you felt her squeeze your hand a little bit too tightly for a sleeping person. Your eyes shot up and met hers, which were very much open. You felt your face grow hot.

"Good morning, beautiful," she said, groggily, "Watching me sleep, are we?"

"N-No," you stammered, "I just got up a little early, that's all."

She looked over your shoulder and at the clock behind you. It now read 4:15am.

"Very early, it seems," she commented with a smirk.

Shit. She caught you. Your first instinct was to duck your face under the covers, hiding the obvious blush on your cheeks. Then, you remembered it was so dark that she probably wouldn't have seen it anyways, but it was too late now. You had to commit.

You feigned a yawn and said, "Is it? Well, I'm going back to bed. 'Night."

"Not so fast," she said, pulling the covers off of the both of you. She slipped her hands into the pockets of your pajama pants and pulled you in close enough for your bodies to press right up against each other's. She slid her hands up your waist, sides, and arms, until she could cup your face in them.

If you weren't red before, you certainly were now.

"You think I didn't notice you getting up earlier and earlier lately?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

You buried your face in the crook of her neck, embarrassed and flustered like you never have been before. Of course she would notice. Most days, she had to fight you just to get you awake.

"How long have you known?" you groaned into her neck.

"From the start," she said. You could feel her smiling against your ear as she spoke, "I didn't know why, but now I do. You thought you were being sneaky, weren't you?"

You sat there for a moment, debating how to answer. Eventually, you just nodded, hesitantly and shamefully.

You heard her laugh as she pulled you in tighter. She reached for your face again and guided it away from her neck, forcing you to look at her. You could barely meet her gaze, but, when you did, she just looked... Happy.

"I have to admit, you've beaten me at my own game. I've been having all the fun watching you sleep this whole time."

Your eyebrows shot up.

"Really?" you asked.

"Of course," she giggled, "You didn't think I actually needed to be up at five o'clock every morning, did you?"

You felt the embarrassment come back, this time at the fact that you had failed to catch on to her own sneaking around. She always was more perceptive than you.

"Jerk!" you said, slapping her arm playfully.

"Creep," she bit back, kissing the tip of your nose.

You rolled your eyes and pulled her in for a gentle kiss, this one on the lips. Her lips felt like pillows on yours, reminding you how tired you really were. Halfway into the kiss, you yawned, and she laughed.

"Go back to sleep, little night owl. You can watch me sleep again later," she said. She pulled the covers back over you both, rubbing circles on your back.

"You promise?" you mumbled, burying your head into her chest.

"Promise," she whispered, her voice lulling you back to sleep.

[kentoxo]

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt.14

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: AHHH IM BACK YALL, IM SO SORRY I WAS GONE. life was doing its thang, but i have returned! here is a nice, warm part in attempts to apologize for my absence xo this might not be checked for spelling or anything so pls forgive me. its late and i have a baby cold but i wanted this part to come out already!

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8, pt.9, pt.10, pt.11, pt.12, pt.13,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Tuesday (after work)

“Haibara, he likes me!” You screech into your phone. Your pillow was at the mercy of your ecstatic chokehold. “The Nanami likes me!” 

You had spent a good portion of your night talking with Haibara. He truly was the only one who you could share your excitement with, considering his friendship with Nanami. He was the only one who understood the stiff blonde and appreciated how you managed to sway his feelings. But, on that same note, he knew you pretty well and was the best at teasing you. 

“You’re quite excited for someone who won’t give him a chance yet,” Haibara teases you. You frown at his words, hoping he’d react like you did. “Why don’t you just let him win you over already?”

“Because!” You reply sharply, jabbing your finger in the air. “He has to earn it, especially after what he’s put me through.” 

Haibara lets out a sigh, “and if he decides to change his mind?”

You huff at his distasteful question, “he won’t.” 

Haibara lets out a small snort, “didn’t realize you knew Nanami for as long as I have. My bad.” 

Sucking your teeth, you sprawl your limbs out on your bed, your eyes distantly staring up at the ceiling, “you know I don’t know a whole lot about him… but he’s different towards me now. There’s something there that wasn’t there before.” 

“Can’t argue with that one,” Haibara admits reluctantly. “I’ve never seen Kento act like this. He’s always been to himself.” 

You smile triumphantly at his words, “it feels like I like him more because of that.” 

“Don’t start,” Haibara taps at your confidence a bit. “Anyhow, let me leave you. I’m gonna order take out and watch a drama.” 

You pout but nod to yourself, “thanks for the chat, Yu. Have a good night!” 

“You as well, Y/N.” Click. 

You toss your phone to the side, a wide smile lingering at your lips. Nanami has intentions to conquer you. And it wasn’t like you were going to deny him, despite prolonging his torture. He could write his confession and pass it to you like in grade school, and you’d still check the ‘yes’ box. Your stomach felt queasy at the thought of his re-attempt, considering his first confession still remained in your mind. 

Albeit how that bad night went. 

Inspired by Haibara (and the growling of your stomach), you get up to order yourself a bit of food as well. As you waited for the order, you fix up your hair so the delivery person didn’t think you were a hobbit. While you adjusted your face, your phone began to ring in your bedroom. You rush to fetch it, your stomach tossing with excitement for the food. But when you blindly picked up, Nanami’s raspy voice came into sound. 

“Good evening, Y/N,” Nanami hums quietly, “how are you doing?” 

You felt yourself stiffen, “a-ah, good evening, Nanami! I’m well– and yourself?” 

“I’m doing well, thank you,” Nanami replies, his voice as smooth as butter. “What are you up to tonight?” 

You awkwardly pull at your holiday PJs and smile embarrassingly to yourself, “‘m home. Just finished ordering some dinner. Is um, is there anything you need, Nanami?” 

“Ah–” Nanami’s voice halts, the breath that follows filled with hesitance. “I didn’t want to alarm you, but I am at the lobby of your building.�� 

You jumped, goosebumps raising all along your arms. “U-um, can I ask why?” 

“I, um…” Nanami’s voice streams off for a moment, heavy breathing ensuing. You assume it was because of the cold, and potentially the exhaustive walk over to your house. “It is a little embarrassing to admit, but my night is not going well.” 

“Oh?” You were surprised. You’ve never seen too much of Nanami’s emotions until recently, upon his acknowledgment and confession of his newfound feelings for you. It was strange to hear the twinge of sadness in his voice, and his reticence to admit his woeful feelings. “Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is okay,” Nanami confirms, “but the thought to come see you felt right.” 

A streak of red appears on your cheeks, “a-ah! Is that so…” 

“Of course, feel free not to invite me in,” Nanami hums quickly, “I can understand the inappropriateness and suddenness of me appearing at your building. I apologize for springing this onto you.” 

It’s true. You two were not dating, and weren’t near being official by any stretch. Nanami, just previously, was your boss, the person you looked up to. He signed your pay stubs and was the person who validated your work and relied on you to do his job well. He is not at the point to come to you and cry on your shoulder. It was simply the status quo not to do wifey things for someone who hasn’t even given you the title of girlfriend yet. 

But, this was Kento Nanami we were talking about. 

“Come upstairs,” you hum. You hang up, and look back to make sure your apartment was clean. Seeing that it was spotless, you quickly check yourself in the mirror, making sure your hair looks nice. Although you lamented not putting on at least some makeup, you were at that point in life where either he likes you as you are, or doesn’t and spares you that horror. You pull down your black sweatshirt, immediately realizing that it was not yours, but the one you borrowed from Tae. 

You let out a sigh. You washed his sweatshirt with the rest of your laundry, and then just assumed it was yours as it was in the pile. You rush to the kitchen to make a note to return the sweatshirt. As you finished the sentence, a quiet knock was heard at your door. Your feet quietly tip tap over, gently unlocking everything. As you opened the door, you were met with a bag of food in your face. 

“Hold this,” Nanami sounded, his large hand dangling the delicious smelling food before you. Your eyes lingered on Nanami, before looking over at the delivery man right behind him. 

You quickly put the food on the coat rack, and bow at the delivery man, “let me grab the money, please give me a moment.” As you prepare your stride, a cold hand grabs your forearm. You turn around to look up at Nanami, who gives you a small smile. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Nanami hums. He turns to the delivery man, takes out his wallet, and pulls out a large bill. “Thank you very much. Keep the change as your tip.” The delivery man beamed at his large tip, bowing contently at Nanami before rushing down the stairs. 

You could only stare at Nanami, as he let go of your arm to let himself in. He locks the door behind him, and begins to strip off his winter garments. He was… wearing glasses. You ogled at him, your heart strings being pulled at. His jaw was clenched, his breathing getting used to the sudden warmth of your home. His hair was once again messy, his body ornate in comfy clothing, very contrasting to his usual office get up. 

Nanami notices your eyes, and smirks, “never seen a blind man, Y/N?” 

“A-ah, I’m sorry for staring,” you quickly apologize, “I don’t see you in glasses often.” A strand of his hair lands on his forehead. 

“Ah, well,” Nanami’s entire body faces you entirely, and he pushes up his lens with his middle finger, “wearing contacts at night increases the risk of forgetting that they’re still on. I usually remove them the moment I get home.” 

Here’s the Nanami you know best, “that’s a good point.” 

You two stand in a bit of awkward silence before you look up at Nanami and gesture to the living room, “would you like a cup of tea?” 

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” 

He takes his seat on the couch while you bring your food over to the kitchen island. You quickly ignore it to put a water-filled kettle onto the stove. “Honey, sugar?” 

“Hold on both, thank you,” Nanami hums. 

You nod, quickly paying attention to your food. You look over at him awkwardly, “are you hungry? I had no idea that you would be coming, I would have ordered more food…” 

Nanami quickly raises his hand, “please, my visit was completely unprecedented. You couldn’t have prepared for it.” 

You quietly stare at him. You could see the distance in his eyes, his hands resting on his knees. One of his legs bounced with some sort of anxiety, his thumbs twiddling around one another. You noticed that he barely kept his gaze towards you, looking back down after each brief silence. It felt like there was a bubble around him that he wasn’t quite ready for you to pop yet. 

With a small smile, you bring out two plates and carry it with the bag of takeout. You join him on the couch, and quickly begin to unbag your food. Nanami only watched as you began to divide your food in half. He quickly sits up and holds your forearm gently, stopping you from continuing. “There is no need, please enjoy your meal, Y/N.” 

“Food always makes me feel better when I don’t really feel the best,” you hum quietly. You gently remove his hand from your arm and give him a curt smile. “We don’t have to talk about it.” 

He looks at you, grimacing a bit. You squeeze his hand reassuringly before putting it down to continue separating the food, “I hope you like stir fry with rice, ‘cause that’s what I got.”

Nanami could only stare at you with awe. There was something there that he couldn’t quite explain. A feeling. A semblance of safety, and some sort of nostalgia. As you divided the food in your comfy clothes, he couldn’t help but feel like it should have always been this way. He watched as you cut up a few of the vegetables and meat, and added extra gravy to his plate. 

“Y/N,” he starts with another futile attempt. 

You look over at him and smiled, “I have soda and beer. Which do you fancy more?” As you waited for his answer, you noticed the food was just warm. “Ah, let me microwave these a bit.” 

You carry the plates over to the kitchen and begin to microwave them, finding the opportunity to prepare his small cup of tea upon the boiling of the water. You prepare the herbs and bring it to him, the greens steeping in the water. He takes it from you gently, his eyes still glued to you as you go to the fridge and look over at him. “Have you decided?” 

He blinks for a few moments, “a beer, if you don’t mind.” 

You grab two beers and pop the caps with the bottle opener on your fridge. You join his side once again and place his beer on the available cup holder near him. Nanami’s hazel eyes stare at you, with your hand eagerly holding your beer, waiting to toast. He quickly puts the tea down and takes the beer in his hand, earning a few giggles from you. 

“Are you anxious, Nanami?” You asked, your voice breathy. “I have some oils I can burn if it’ll help put you at ease.” 

“No, no, it’s not that at all,” he begins quietly before he clinks his beer bottle with your own. You both take a swig. His Adam's apple protrudes alluringly, his bottom lip shining with the carbonated booze. “It’s just that…” Before he could finish, his eyes burned down at your sweatshirt. 

You join him and look down, searching for a stain, “ah, did I spill something already? I just washed this, and it’s not even mine…” 

“This isn’t your sweatshirt?” He had a hunch, but he wasn’t looking forward to being right. 

You nod, “it’s Tae’s, the barista you hired? He lent it to me when I was starting to get that bad cold I got recently.” 

“Ah.” It was the only word that came out of Nanami’s lips. He silently grabs your beer and puts both drinks down on the coffee table. As the ringing of the microwave sounded, you watched as Nanami stripped off his own sweatshirt (a beautiful navy blue shade) and put out one of his hands. You stare puzzled before you notice he begins to flick his middle finger, requesting the sweatshirt you were in. 

Obediently, you strip the sweatshirt off, feeling your cheeks warm from the Hello Kitty shirt you had underneath. But Nanami pays it no mind, his hazel eyes unwavering as he fixes his sweatshirt before pulling it over your head. He lets go, allowing you to pull down the sweatshirt. The immediate smell of green tea and hinoki wood intoxicates you, the scent of Nanami taking you over. You could get drunk from his smell, unable to contain the feelings in your heart. 

“Please feel free to ask me for warmth whenever you are cold,” Nanami instructs, his eyes satisfied with your new look. He reaches over your face, and pushes a strand of loose hair to the back of your ear. “This color suits you nicely.” 

You can feel your face go completely hot, “y-yeah?” 

“I’d like to see you wear my dress shirts someday,” he says with a cheeky smile. You then jump, your face completely flushed. Nanami searches your face, confused by your reaction. But he quickly bites his tongue, realizing his words slowly. “A-ah, I’m sorry Y/N– that was highly inappropriate.” 

“It’s fine! I think the food is ready!” You escape by rushing over to the microwave, slowly bringing over two steaming plates of food. You put both plates down and retrieve the remaining plastic utensils and condiments from the bag. Fixing his plate, you quickly gesture to his plate, giving him the go to eat. 

As he picks up the plate and fork, you quickly grab a few napkins from the bag and place it by him on the table. “I hope it’s not too hot,” you murmur quietly as you pick up your own plate. “I’ll wait for you to eat if you want it to cool down a little.” 

Nanami shakes his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips, “I can eat hot food, Y/N, don’t you worry.” 

“I have to worry about you, Nanami,” you say simply, “can’t do much about it now.” 

In this turn, Nanami felt his own heart skip a beat or two. He couldn’t help but stare at you adoringly. Despite not being able to talk about his woes, you didn’t force it out of him either. He never realized the power of companionship until he was here, eating half of your full meal, in your extremely warm apartment while you were in your PJs. He had always thought ethereal women always remained in the books of fairy tales. But then here you were, eating your food with your plate almost a little too close to your face so you didn’t spill and soil his sweater. 

“Mm!” You hummed with a mouth full of food. Quickly chewing and swallowing, you looked up at Nanami, “please tell me how much you gave the delivery man. Let me pay you back before you go.” 

Nanami looks down at you and shakes his head, silently turning to his food to begin eating. “Technically I am eating the food, therefore I owe for the meal as well.” 

You snort, “I offered you half, Nanami. So with your logic, I owe you half.” 

Nanami puts his plate down quietly. He picks up a napkin and dabs his lips clean before taking a swig of his beer. “Y/N, every time I come to your home, there seems to be a trend where bad things happen.” 

You look at him, your expression puzzled, “how do you mean?” 

“As in, every time I’ve come to visit, something unexpected happens, typically leading to something unideal for you,” Nanami says quietly. 

“Ah, please don’t say that,” you say in a sad tone, “it’s purely coincidence that everything has happened the way it has.” 

“Right, but now I think it’s true,” Nanami hums, looking over at you. There was an unwavering seriousness in his expression, his hazel eyes warm yet convincing. “It’s nothing bad, truly, but it is quite dangerous.” 

“What is?” You reply in a whisper. 

He leans over to you, his face beside yours, “my feelings for you are developing in such a way where I might accidentally skip a step or two in this relationship.” 

“H-huh?” You let out in a stammer. 

He backs away, but takes your hands into his own. He gives your hands a light squeeze, his smile capable of curing all woes you could have. “I have no intentions to rush this relationship,” Nanami begins, “once I make you mine, my intentions are to go at your pace completely. But I need you to understand that my feelings for you have progressed further than the current state of our relationship.” 

You eye him, feeling your face burn to a crisp. “A-are you trying to s-say that you…” Your eyes fall down to your legs, your heart unable to take this much feeling in the air. 

Nanami quickly chuckles, “maybe not that far, but I’m realizing now that I really do need you in my life. Because if you can make me feel better without addressing my sadness directly, then I believe I’ve always needed you in my life.” 

You felt your mind go stupid, your heart going into emotional cardiac arrest. “Nanami… anybody would do this for the person they care about.” Your voice was weak, quiet. You were always ready to undermine yourself. But Nanami will never be taken by it. 

“Right, but I’m glad I’m being cared about by you,” Nanami hums, “I don’t care about anybody when my eyes and heart are set on you.” 

You weren’t sure what was in the air, but considering Nanami’s hold on your hands and his adoration-filled eyes, you weren’t prepared for what was going to happen next. 

Taglist (OPEN)

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

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@shibataimu @galagcica @a-cloudy-dreamy-day @aporcelainphantom @monikosman1311

@fashionably-a-hippie

[fushiguruuzzzz]

+ CHAPTER FOUR // RUN IT BACK

series mlist 

Tags — mentions of catcalling-ish/a creepy comment, mentions of violence, the texts and the written part don’t connect it’s sort of just two separate parts, I’m only now realizing how odd the divs look I’m apologizing but not changing it, your phone isn’t tweaking the last two images are supposed to be transparent Words — 1.3k

The day was gloomy, the sound of downpour fading in and out with every opening of the front door. Had you been at home, your only company would be a good book and possibly a roll of raw cookie dough, maybe Nobara curled up at your side and updating you on the details of a couple in her design class. But you weren't at home, you were stuck here, surrounded by blurred faces and the smell of damp socks. You would be sure to use this against Miwa until the end of time, you told yourself. After a pathetically small amount of begging and the explanation that you think involved her boyfriend, you agreed. You knew she wasn't one to ditch out just because, so you barely bothered hearing her out before doing the favour. You were beginning to regret that.

You'd been spaced out for so long that you didnt even notice the oddly familiar head of hair, sat lowly and just almost resting on the back of the booth's seat. He stood out against the worn, ruby leather, a collection of pastels sitting on something dull and worn. Something bright and new presented to you, surrounded by familiarity. The deep lilac of his irises were trained on you, not exactly burning into you, but rather drinking you in. He wasn't harsh or searing or intimidating, he didn't make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and he didn't make you feel hot all over. He was soft, a whisper within the pitter patter of the rain, he was the warmth of coffee slipping down your throat on a cold day (even if sometimes, it ended up on the floor). 

You met his eye, and the corners of his lips tugged up into a smile. It spoke louder than words, a reminder of the fleeting experiences you’d shared without ever truly having a conversation. 

“Toge,” you greeted softly as you walked over, voice sugary sweet and laced with something he couldn’t put his finger on. 

He replied with a smile, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled as he did. “Y/n.”

“No company this time?” 

You swear that his cheeks heated up just the slightest bit, and he glanced down for a second before turning back. “No, they bring bad luck… as you could see.” 

Your brows quirked upwards playfully, hands falling down to your hips. The notepad you were holding pressed gently into your side—a reminder of what you were actually supposed to be doing. “You sure they’re the bad luck?” 

“Yes,” he said, all too quickly and all too defensive. It was hard to suppress a smile by now, and you could very easily tell that he was facing the same problem. He was inside his own head locking himself for looking like a dork, but the bigger part of him knew that he truly was. I mean, last time you’d seen him he was double fisting instant ramen and short circuiting trying to decide whether to say hi or avoid you altogether, the internal conflict sending him into overdrive and leaving him standing there like he’d stared into the eyes of Medusa. 

But he was here now, and he was functioning just fine aside from his heart speeding up. 

He gave you his order and made sure not to stutter. He watched you longingly as you disappeared into the big grey double doors that led to the back, and he beat himself up for not saying more. He had another chance though, right? And he’d be sure to take it. So when you trotted back out, hips swaying ever so slightly and the pink of your lipgloss reflecting the glow of the piercing lights above, he wasn’t going to cower away. Toge was used to being friendly, but holding a conversation… yikes.  

“…are you busy right now?” 

You glanced down from where you stood over him, catching the awkwardness in the way he shifted. You gave a soft shake of the head, motioning to the nearly empty section around you. 

“Great. So… maybe you could sit…?” he asked. He tried to feign nonchalance, but the nervous rasp in his voice was hard to miss. Something warm curled in your chest, and you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him. Not when he was staring up at you, biting his cheek and silently screaming ‘I’m not usually this awkward, I swear!’ 

Sliding into the seat across from him, the cool leather pressed into you through your pants. You didn’t even realize when you started chatting away—it just came so naturally that it the beginning and the end were blurred. It faded in and out calmly, like the tide on a warm, empty day at the beach. Talking was easy with Toge. He followed everything you said with a nod and an approving hum, made sure you knew he was paying attention. He was undeniably present, but it wasn’t loud or suffocating. He was just there, gentle and warm and fresh. If someone asked you to recount the conversation, all you could remember was the way his light hair fell in tufts over his face as he nodded at something you said. If they asked him, he’d probably be able to recite it like it was a subject he’d studied for years. 

“So…” he said, voice soft as he tried to figure out a way to bring this up. If it hadn’t been you, he didn’t want to figure that out once it was too late and embarrass himself. He also feared that if it were you, he’d look creepy—or worse, make you uncomfortable. Based on the way you’d scrambled into the darkness of the sketchy corner alley, it didn’t take a scientist to figure out you weren’t up to any good. Did he have the right to mention it? Probably not. But sometimes the curiosity in his veins ran deeper than the need to keep you comfortable, so he didn’t stop himself. “You into rock?” 

You hoped the way your eyes widened ever so slightly and your spit catching in your throat wasn’t noticeable, but it was. It shouldn’t have been such a secret, but it was just so… not you. If he liked you, he figured he liked you how he saw you now. Your hobbies were quite the opposite, and the possible backlash was enough to make the words die on your tongue. 

“Y/n!” shouted a voice from the kitchen, making your body jolt up with the relief of an excuse to swerve the topic. You slithered out of the seat with a small smile and a heated face, basically running to the back. “That should be your order. I should uh… I should get back to work. I’ll see you!” 

When you were out of view, he let out a huff. His shoulders slumped, and he rested his head on the rough table for a second. You’d gotten away for a second time. Maybe this was the last. 

But then he walked out of the diner and looked at his receipt, only to see a ten digit number scribbled into the back of it. Underneath was your name with a little smiley face. He grinned, let out a breath of victorious (maybe surprised) laughter, and put it into his pocket. 

It wasn’t the last chance he had. He didn’t know it yet, but the universe seemed to align so that he’d have many, many more. 

Can you feel it in the air? That warmth? Yeah it’s romance

getting the story movingggg

they all thought Toge was a loser for going back

little did they know he got that bag

I apologize if these seem rushed because they somewhat are, I’m just not as motivated to write this series as I am other things :)

Also if you saw a post about this being posted at 6:40 no u didn’t.

yep we’re back chat. I’ve been flopping lately someone kill me for Emma got like 100 notes gang I’m gonna end it ALL. tbh I feel like that was deserved it wasn’t my best but it made people cry so a win is a win (pls stop attacking me I had three people in my messages ATTACKING me at once) oh… yall aren’t gonna like what I’m cooking up.

Taglist — 47/50 (as of posting. Check masterlist)

@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @nanaanatiion @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee

— I removed the people who haven’t changed their tag settings after 3 chapters, so there’s been some space cleared up! You’ll be removed if your tags don’t work for three chapters straight, so please make sure they’re correct :) if you’ve fixed them don’t be afraid to comment and ask me to add you back

[hueseok]

it was always you (from the vault)

originally titled: take my breath away.

a.k.a. the original draft for my “it was always you” fic wherein naval aviator!jungkook is your cocky soon-to-be-ex-husband who won’t sign your divorce papers because he’s still in love with you lol.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4.5k

content: fluff, semi-angst, exes to ??? | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + husband!jungkook

warning: what you’re about to read (if you do choose to read this) is an unfinished work which perhaps will forever be unfinished.

the only reason i’m posting it because i feel like it’d be a waste to let it rot in my drafts considering that i really liked how it went until the moment i stopped writing hehehehe. i’ve also thought about continuing this story but since i already have an existing naval aviator!jungkook in my masterlist, i felt like it’d be redundant to post this!

anyhow, since a lot of you showed so much love to “it was always you”, i thought it’d be nice to share this 🥹

You really hoped that flying for almost three hours and experiencing horrid turbulence during half of the trip was going to be worth it. But again, that was only the first part of the whole charade; the real challenge would begin perhaps much later, when you finally come face to face with the person that you were scheduled to meet.

As you walked inside the bar, the nerves that previously weren’t there started to crawl from your chest to your legs, making it harder to reach the counter where a vacant bar stool stood. You didn’t even know why you were suddenly nervous—although you could only guess that the sudden burst of anxiety was rooted from talking again to the most stubborn man ever to walk on earth—and you were already preparing yourself for the long conversation you were going to have with him and possibly the extended leave you’ll have to inform your boss for this trip because of his infamous stubbornness.

“____?” a familiar voice abruptly called out for you after you finished ordering a mug of beer from the barmaid, “no fucking way. It can’t be.”

You turned to your left and saw Jung Hoseok.

Spoiler: he wasn’t the person you were going to meet today, which made seeing him such a delight. You grinned immediately upon making eye contact, hopping out of your chair and exclaiming his name with the same enthusiasm he let out when he did realize it was you who he was looking at.

“Holy shit. What are you doing here?” He automatically engulfed you in a tight embrace when you initiated. You noticed that he was wearing an off duty attire, a plain black polo shirt and blue jeans, his hair kept neat and short. “Actually, scratch that—there’s only one person you should be here for.”

You bothered to smile. “Yeah. I’m guessing he didn’t tell anyone I’m visiting, huh?”

“Nope. He 100% kept it a secret because he knows that we’re going to steal you away if he spills.”

“We?” you mused. You didn’t even know that he was training with Hoseok, and now you’re discovering that Hoseok’s apparently not the only friend he has here. “How many of you that I know are training with him?”

Hoseok takes a short pause to think about it. “Hm… well, there’s me, then Yoongi and… Namjoon. That’s just about it.”

“Wow. It’s essentially the whole group again, huh?”

“Yup. I mean, we are the best of the best.” He smirked.

You playfully rolled your eyes.

“And we’ve missed you,” he added swiftly. “I’m a bit mad that your husband didn’t inform us that you’d be here—but again, I’m not surprised.”

“Sorry. I think I have myself to blame for that. I did tell him that I don’t intend to stay here for too long.”

“Why not?”

“I’m just here to make sure he signs the divorce papers.”

Hoseok nodded, thoughtful and a bit disappointed. “Is he giving you a hard time with them?”

“You can say that.” A dramatic sigh escaped you. “He insisted that if I really wanted to get his signature, I should just go here where he’s training.”

“Classic Jungkook.” He laughed, and you agreed with a snort.

He was right, this was all a Classic Jungkook move. 

Sometimes, you didn’t understand why you agreed to marry Jungkook so urgently when he asked for your hand, even after knowing that he did everything he could to ensure that he got what he wanted in the end.

Though that was just that thing, wasn’t it? He knew exactly what to do in order to get what he wanted—and at that time of his proposal, you knew it was you that he sought for.

Despite the fact that Jungkook had only been seeing you for less than a year, he was convinced that you were the love of his life. It was the reason why when he needed to be deployed for a mission, it seemed proposing was the most natural thing to do, going on about how he wanted to be reassured that when he came back for you, you were going to be there waiting for him, not only as a girlfriend, but as his wife.

And you said yes, without missing a beat, because you genuinely loved Jungkook and for you, the both of you were a match made in heaven.

By the two year mark of being a wedded couple though, just being in love with each other wasn’t enough. There were a lot of arguments, irreconcilable differences, a lot of moments wherein you wanted to abandon everything and just disappear—until you finally declared that enough was enough and you were going to file for divorce.

Of course, Jungkook didn’t want to sign them, but he did grant you a little bit of your freedom back. He did so by leaving your shared apartment on a random Thursday, only sending a text that said he was being called by the Navy for a mission he couldn’t disclose per usual, and that if you really wanted to divorce him, you’d just have to wait for him to go back.

He never returned though. Because after that mission, came a next one, and another one, until you heard that he was invited to a naval fighter weapons school in the northern part of the country, close to the seas and where he’ll be training for a few weeks among the best naval aviators in the nation. 

That’s when he decided to invite you over and say that if you wanted his signature, you’d have to be the one who’ll go to him. You initially contemplated for a long time before just going forth with his ridiculous demand. Nonetheless, you figured you were once again left with no choice because here you were now, doing exactly what he wanted to get what you exactly wanted as well.

God, who knew that contrary to how easy it was to enter this marriage, it was an absolute pain to get out of it?

“Do you know where he might be?” you asked Hoseok while taking a sip of your beer. “Or if he’s going here at least?”

“I have no clue,” Hoseok said. “Though I do know that he should have free time. We don’t have training for the rest of the day.”

“I’ll be seriously pissed if he stands me up.”

“He won’t.”

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but you’re ____,” he said it like it was reason enough, “and Jungkook can’t resist seeing you. Especially if it’s been what? How many months have passed since you two saw each other?”

You held up six fingers, continuing to gulp down your drink in frustration. “Still, he loves to annoy the shit out of me.”

“It’s his love language.”

“Oh, I’ve been made very aware.”

Hoseok barked out a laugh. He was a huge fan of your dynamic with Jungkook; he was practically there throughout the whole journey of your relationship. As Jungkook’s weapon systems officer, the both of them were thick as thieves, which also made him the best man of the wedding—so deep inside, he wanted to believe that whatever it was that you and Jungkook were dealing with, it would be resolved soon enough.

“Well, it looks like you don’t have to wait for too long.” Hoseok toasted his glass to the direction of the entrance where the Jeon Jungkook entered, removing his aviator sunglasses and hooking it on the collar of his white shirt, worn inside a dark blue long-sleeved polo he was sporting as well.

You followed his line of vision and scowled at the sight of Jungkook. Not because you hated your husband, but because even when in the middle of finalizing a divorce, you couldn’t deny that he was too handsome for his own good.

“I think this is my cue to leave,” Hoseok added, getting off his seat. “It was nice seeing you again, ___. Let’s catch up later, yeah? I’ll conspire with Joon and Yoongi to steal you away.” He smiled mischievously and gave you a sweet chaste kiss on the cheek before walking over to Jungkook, greeting him, pointing to where you were, and then walking to another table where you guessed a bunch of other naval aviators were hanging out.

A sigh escaped you, just in time when Jungkook met your gaze.

He grinned—actually grinned—and you had to prevent your eyes from twitching to not look like some crazy person who didn’t have any self-control. So, instead of plastering the same scowl a few seconds ago for him to see, you flashed a sarcastic smile, waving your hand.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” Jungkook claimed when he was close enough, marching towards you, appearing like he was going to go for a kiss but before he could, you outstretched an arm and stopped him by literally wrapping your fingers around his neck as if you were planning to choke him to death with the gesture (which you were tempted to do).

He rolled his eyes, holding your wrist and bringing it down.

“Can’t I give you a kiss?” he retorted.

“No.”

“And Hoseok can?”

“Hoseok’s my friend.”

“I’m your husband.”

“Ex-husband.”

“Wrong. I haven’t signed any divorce papers, honey, so in the eyes of the law, I’m still very much your husband.” He quickly stole a kiss on the corner of your mouth and you allowed yourself to grimace in annoyance, glaring at him as he took Hoseok’s previous seat.

You watched him order a drink for himself and nachos for sharing. You didn’t say anything while he did all that; you just stared at him, analyzing him, trying to decipher what was going on in that head of his. You honestly had no clue what his thought process was in depriving you of the signature you wanted and then randomly agreeing to meet you again, accompanied with the condition that you’re the one who has to go to him and not the other way around.

As he reasoned, he was still in the middle of training, and he couldn’t just leave even if he wanted to and that’s why you had to make the effort to make this work (he made it clear that he didn’t want to make the effort anyway if it meant it could lead to his and yours divorce).

“How are you?” he asked once he was done ordering and you scoffed.

“Let’s not do that, Jungkook.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me that I’m not allowed to know how you’re doing too.”

“I meant the small talk. Let’s just cut to the chase.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Jungkook.”

“Alright.” He placed an arm against the counter, spinning his stool to face you. “You already know where I stand, though. I still haven’t changed my mind in wanting to work it out first.”

“What? But you told me that if I went here—”

“I would talk to you, not sign the papers,” he finished. “You didn’t really think I’d sign them just like that, right?”

Your stomach dropped.

There goes assuming that the three-hour flight to go here would be worth it.

“I did, actually.” You grumbled. “When are you giving this a rest?”

He seemed annoyed by the rhetoric question. “When are you going to stop thinking that divorce is the answer to our problem?”

“We already did couple’s therapy and that proved to be a waste of time.”

“That’s because you were stubborn and wouldn’t cooperate.”

“Oh, I’m the one who’s stubborn between the both of us? I’m the one who wouldn’t cooperate?”

“Yes.”

“No, I’m not!” You raised your hands up. “You were the one who always said some lame excuse to not attend it with me.”

“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you, my schedule isn’t—”

“Yeah, whatever.” You didn’t let him finish, knowing that he was going to say something about how being in the Navy didn’t grant him the free time you were expecting him to have.

“I’m just saying… you can’t keep on doing this, you know?” you said.

“Can’t keep doing what?”

“Prolonging this. We already broke up, Jungkook. There’s not point in staying married.”

“That’s the thing, though.” He smirked. “I can keep prolonging it.”

Your nostrils flared. “Why?”

“Because I can.”

You think flashes of red were beginning to blur your vision.

Jungkook noticed the rage building up, yet he didn’t back down. “Why are you even so eager to legally separate? Do you plan on getting married again soon?” he asked.

It was supposed to be a joke, because Jungkook didn’t actually think you were seeing anyone at the moment—but at the mention of it, he saw the manner in which your expression slightly shifted, and he narrowed his eyes at you, understanding. “Don’t bullshit me. You aren’t seeing anyone, right?”

You blinked, acting all innocent. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is. You’re still married to me.”

“We’ve broken up for almost a year now, Jungkook.” You groaned, remaining him once again. “If you just signed the goddamn papers, all of this would be out of your hands.”

He scoffed. “You are seeing someone?”

“That is not the point of our conversation.”

“Well, it’s a significant aspect of it.”

“Fine.” You huffed. “I am seeing someone. Happy?”

Jungkook was in fact not happy. He was angry, but then he thought of how he shouldn’t be, because you and him have broken up for almost a year now like you said. Even though he wasn’t in support of that notion, he remembered at least granting you enough freedom to feel like you could date around without thinking about how you were technically cheating on him if ever you did. 

However, he didn’t really think you would find someone. Sure, you were beautiful, you had an amazing personality, there was no question when it came to you attracting men, yet you could be picky most of the time. It was even a miracle how he managed to bag you; though he guessed that he didn’t really have to try that hard in the first place before because the two of you just had so much in common for you to ignore.

“What’s his name?” he asked after a long silence.

You crossed your arms. “Do you have to know?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You adjusted yourself in your seat. “It’s Ben.”

Jungkook thought the name sounded stupid. “How long have you been dating him?”

You hesitated, already predicting how he was going to react that you almost exaggerated the answer, but decided against it last minute. “Five weeks.”

He suddenly burst out laughing, the sound echoing inside the bar; it was the exact type of response you were positive he was going to do, proof that you knew him too well and that you shouldn’t have changed your pretense in the first place.

“It’s not funny,” you hissed, noticing that a lot of people were glancing at where you were both situated. “What the hell is funny about what I said?”

“You want to divorce me for a guy you’ve been dating for five weeks?” He carried on snickering; he barely got the whole sentence out because he was too busy catching his breath.

“Of course not! I would just prefer it if I don’t have any baggage left before attempting to commit to another relationship.”

The barmaid came back with Jungkook’s beer and nachos. He thanked her and slid the basket of cheesy nachos to your direction, an offer that you could get a piece if you wanted. However you were neither hungry nor interested in getting anything from him that would elicit a thank you from you, too prideful at this point due to how annoying he was being.

“What does he do for a living?” he asked next.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to make fun of it.”

“Is it worth making fun of?”

“No.”

“Then just tell me.” He threw a chip inside his mouth. 

You pressed your lips together. “He’s a bank clerk.”

Jungkook didn’t laugh this time, but the corners of his mouth were twitching as he grinned, and you found yourself refraining from wanting to strangle him again, questioning why you thought it was a good idea to come here since it was obvious that talking to him properly was an impossible task.

“You’re dating a bank clerk?” he posed the question like it was the most preposterous thing he had heard from you today. “What the hell do the both of you have in common?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll have you know that Ben is a very nice guy.”

“That’s what ladies say when a man is horrible in bed.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is he good then?”

“That’s none of your business, Jungkook,” you uttered once more, teeth gritting. “Besides, it’s only been five weeks.”

He smirked. “That’s a no then. It seems that you haven’t slept with him,” he said. “Makes sense. I mean, if you have already slept with another guy, you might be already begging me to get back together. Given that I’m the best sex you’ve ever had.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “How the fuck are you always so arrogant?”

“It comes with the praise I usually get during my escapades, babe.” Jungkook winked at you, hand reaching out for another nacho.

“Oh, so I’m assuming you do have sex with other people now. You know, if you’ve just divorced me, you can go live your happy single life again to go to that without any worries.”

“I don’t sleep with other people—”

“But you just said—”

“I meant before I met you.” He pointed out, giving you a look. “Why are you even thinking about that? Are you jealous?”

“God, you’re fucking impossible.” You practically growled. 

He flashed you another smirk, amused.

“Anyhow,” you began, bringing out the divorce papers from your bag that you should have given him the second you saw him, but as what you think was part of his plan, he did manage to stall you in doing so, “here’s the papers.” You shoved it to his chest, rendering Jungkook no choice but to grab it.

He glanced down at them. “You’re never going to stop until I sign these, huh?”

You nodded. “Never.”

“Fine.” Jungkook flickered his gaze on you. “I’ll sign them.”

You glared at him. “Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you?”

You were still suspicious, but at the same time, you had high hopes.

“Yes. But I need to meet Ben the bank clerk first.”

Your spirits dropped. “Oh, no, no, no,” you made a huge cross sign with your arms, “you are not giving me another condition just to go against your word in the end.”

“I won’t this time.”

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed loudly.

It was his turn to narrow his eyes at you. “I’m serious. You want my signature or not?”

You bit the insides of your cheeks, gazing at him.

You were no fool, you knew why he wanted to meet him; you knew that it was because he wanted to see it for himself if the guy you replaced him for was actually more good looking than him or at least appeared as if he could survive a fistfight if Jungkook prompted to start one. It was all testosterone and ego, and you contemplated cutting his balls just to get this over with once and for all.

Surely, by then, he would be more agreeable.

“Fine,” you told him. “If you meet him, you’ll sign the papers? Promise?”

He took a sip of his beer, shrugging. “Sure.”

***

Jungkook watched the scene unfold in front of him with an amused expression.

Although he did admit it once that he did get a bit jealous whenever you gave the other guys more attention than him, he loved his best pals too much to care.

It was why he allowed instances like this to happen wherein you made it apparent that you valued their company much more than you did Jungkook. It was evident in the manner in which you laughed loudly as Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon hugged you, each one of them taking turns in lifting your body off the ground a few seconds in glee.

You were seen as a beloved sister to them as they saw Jungkook as a cherished brother in the Navy.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jungkook reckoned after five seconds.

Namjoon glanced at him, the last one to embrace you. “Jealous?” he teased, reading his mind.

“I am, actually.” Jungkook affirmed. “You three got a better greeting than I did.”

You rolled your eyes at the pettiness of his comment. “That’s because there’s nothing good about seeing you again, Jungkook.”

Jungkook glanced at you. “You wound me, babe.” He placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “Truly, you do.”

The guys stifled a laugh.

Today’s agenda was supposed to be a catch up session with the three guys. News spread quickly yesterday that you were in town thanks to Hoseok, and given that the three of them were good friends of yours, you didn’t decline the offer when Jungkook informed you that they wanted to meet you while you were here.

So, as the next day came in and the evening rolled, they met up with you at the same resto-bar Hoseok found you in. It did seem like the only venue that was both near enough from the academy and the hotel you were staying at that offered adequate food. You observed that the occupants of the place were composed primarily of people wearing naval aviator uniforms or motorcyclists stopping by before going forth with their ride.

“So,” Yoongi began just as Jungkook headed to the counter, volunteering to relay all of your orders to the barmaid, “we heard from a little birdie that you’re seeing someone else.”

You gave him a look. “Still a big gossip, I see.”

“Oh, it’s not counted as gossip if it’s what Jungkook’s been complaining about the whole time at the showers,” Namjoon humored.

Hoseok agreed with a nod. “It’s what he’s been nonstop yapping about earlier when we were flying,” he said. “Seriously, ____. Release the boy from misery and just get back together.”

They watched you grimace. “You all know my relationship with Jungkook has been long complicated for it to be as easy as that.”

“Did he cheat on you?” Namjoon asked.

“No, of course not.” You scoffed. “He’s an annoying shit for the most part but he’s not a cheater.”

He physically relaxed at the confirmation. “Good, because I don’t think I can beat him in a fistfight.”

Yoongi chuckled. “What’s the matter then? You still haven’t spared us any details on why you’re so keen to divorce him.”

“There’s no particular reason,” you sighed with a throw of your hand. “It’s just a compilation of the small things. He’s away most of the time, I’m away most of the time when he’s available—we fight a lot, argue a lot, it just doesn’t seem to be worth fighting for anymore.”

“So, you don’t love him anymore?”

“I…” you trailed, abruptly feeling like you were being interrogated, “I mean, love doesn’t go away easily. And it hasn’t been that long since we called it quits.”

The three men shared a look among themselves.

You straighten your posture. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What does?” Hoseok queried.

“That look you guys just gave each other. I don’t like it.”

“That’s just their faces, babe,” Jungkook reappeared, taking the liberty to take the seat on your right. “What are you fellas talking about?” he asked his buddies.

They didn’t dare utter a word. You were under the impression that they had an understanding between them that talking about your relationship right in Jungkook’s face was something one should not ought to do.

You, on the other hand, took it as your cue to speak, starting another topic to hopefully erase the previous one. “Ben said he can come. He’s boarding tonight,” you told Jungkook as he’s sipping from his glass of service water.

“That’s good.” He didn’t look as interested as he was yesterday.

“Who’s Ben?” It was Hoseok again.

“The bank clerk,” Jungkook answered.

“The new guy you’re seeing?” Yoongi asked you.

“Yep,” you said before turning to Jungkook. “And can you please refer to him by his name? He’s not just a bank clerk.”

“Is he a boring bank clerk?” Jungkook asked, that teasing smirk flashing on his mouth.

“Will he be here tomorrow?” Namjoon chimed in.

You nodded. “Hopefully.”

“Great,” Jungkook placed his glass down on the table. “It’ll be enough time to get to know him.”

He said ‘enough time’ like his time was limited because it really was. He informed you before you parted ways yesterday that he was graduating from the academy this Friday, and that after that, he was almost 100% sure he was going to be deployed again with some of his classmates for a mission that you wouldn’t be allowed to know the details of. 

Your stomach somersaulted when he told you that.

Somehow, despite convincing yourself that you no longer cared for Jungkook, the thought of his life being put at risk again once he was back on the field made you want to vomit in anxiety. It reminded you that his very dangerous occupation was one of the root causes of your separation, for there were months wherein you couldn’t take the fear of waiting in uncertainty on whether he was going to come home to you or not, regardless of how he promised he would every single time.

It was funny, you thought. One of your similarities with your husband was that the both of you were adrenaline junkies. You and him bonded over extreme rides in amusement parks, activities that got your heart pumping and gave you the sensation of being on top of the world—and yet it was the reason why you didn’t want to be with him anymore as well, too scared to continue loving him if he always sought for adventure and danger through being a naval aviator.

“You knew what you were signing up for, ____,” he told you during one of your many arguments. “You entered this relationship knowing the nature of my job. You can’t expect to adjust for you when it comes to—”

“I’m not expecting you to adjust for me, Kook,” you replied in exasperation, practically begging him to listen to you with an open mind at that point. “God, I just want you to consider me. I just want to feel that for once, you actually remember that someone’s always waiting for you to come home.”

Whenever conversations like that popped back inside your memory, you forced yourself to push it away. It wasn’t an experience you wanted to relive. You’ve spent far too many nights just crying because of how it felt like to be in a constant state of worry for the person you found yourself loving the most.

“We can all meet him, right?” asked Hoseok, looking at the other guys for back up. 

You surveyed them, raising your eyebrows before saying your answer.

“Like the hell you would.”

[altxrrmelancholy]

Exactly The Same

Tags: bf!joong, idol!joong, some teasing, woo and reader are just mischievous, a blowjob maybe, lots of moaning.

...in which you stumble upon a smut audio of joong on Tumblr that an Atiny made that sounds exactly like him.

Note: I cannot for the life of me remember the account, but I once listened to an audio on here that sounded like how Hj would sound. It had me reeling omg. If it's a well known audio I would like to hear it again please if anyone knows what I'm talking about. 😭

Anyways, here you go. Don't forget to reblog!

You didn't even know where Wooyoung came from, and you didn't care at that point. All you could think about was the pure heaven you were both listening to.

Yours and his mouth were gaping at the sounds you both were listening to. At one point, he even pushed you further into the couch so that he could get closer to you and hear better, sharing a singular earphone with him. You increased the volume when you realized you were about to hear him talk.

"A-ah mmmh, babygirl is doing sooo good for daddy mmmmh~"

You clenched your thighs and screamed internally as Wooyoung gapes even further.

"Fuuuuck. That sounds exactly like hyung."

"I know right?!"

The audio wasn't even that long. As soon as it finished, you scoured through the account to see if they had posted more.

It was the only fucking audio.

"Play it again." You did.

You couldn't even question or judge Wooyoung's sentence as the effect the audio had on you yourself was dizzying. And you were the actual girlfriend.

"How do they do it? I mean, do they act it out or..."

You shrugged. "I think these are actual porn audios. They just search for the ones that sound closer to your voices or something, I dunno."

"Is there one of mine? What are you waiting for? Type my name in there!"

You glared at him as he tried to reach for your phone. "Are you crazy?! I don't want to hear you moan!"

"But we just heard Hyung moan! How is that different?"

"Because I'm the girlfriend?!"

"But you just said it's porn audios! Come on, Y/n!" He was already starting to whine and fuss around on the couch. You weren't even supposed to show any of the Ateez members anything sexual about them, especially if it involved their fans' imagination. You were an Atiny yourself so of course you had to remain loyal to the fandom, even though you were dating a member.

Not that any of the fans knew. The loyalties stopped there. You were on your knees for their leader.

You remembered the time when San was live one day and he accidentally stumbled upon fanfiction, to your horror. They already knew that you followed some of their fan sites on social media. Your boyfriend even teased you of the possibility of you reading fanfics. The last thing you wanted was your boyfriend finding out you indulged in written erotica about him online. It's not something that you deliberately hide from him. You would actually share with him one day. Not anytime soon though. Cause then he would find out that you used to read smut about other members: Seonghwa, Yunho, Jongho... even Wooyoung.

Ugh. Why, oh, why was I lucky enough to date their leader? Please take me away from this endless mental torture!

"Y/n pleeaaase? I promise I won't tell anyone else."

"Woo, you're being-"

"Tell anyone what?"

You hadn't even realized that someone had walked through the door. There your boyfriend stood, staring at both of you awaiting an answer. His anxieties about knowing every single thing about what his members get themselves involved in present.

"Well?"

You thought quickly. "It's uuuh, artwork. Like, suspicious artwork."

He narrowed your eyes at you. "Okay...?"

He wasn't even wearing anything revealing but you wanted to pounce on him immediately. In fact, he was completely covered from head to toe in black as it was cold outside. This was one of those days where he came home early from work and you just knew he was tired. You smirked.

You stood up slowly, pulling your (his) ridden-up shorts down as you passed your phone to Wooyoung. He stared as you approached your boyfriend who kept his eyes on you, unmoving.

"You must be very exhausted, right?"

He sighed. "I can't even begin to speak on it."

You smiled at him. "Okay! Let's go!"

Before you could leave the living room, your boyfriend's hand in yours, you discreetly turned to Wooyoung and winked at him. He seemed to get the message, widening his eyes and gaping again, as he watched you enter the bedroom.

"That snake." He whispered.

With the door to his room shut, you gently sat him down on his bed and got to your knees. You quickly worked on his sweatpants.

"What's gotten into you?" He helped you in removing the barriers and brushed his hand through your hair gently as he prepared for what's coming. You watched his dick grow hard in your touch. You couldn't wait so you took him into your mouth, hearing him wince a bit. You bobbed your head a couple of times and then he started to moan.

"Mmmh fuck. I needed this."

You internally squealed. You could just fly.

On the other side, Wooyoung had already heard the first series of moans. He cursed softly as he tripped on his way to his room, before you both remembered he was still in the house. He felt your phone vibrate in his hands and stopped in the corridor to look at it.

It was a message.

Sexiest leader 🤎: He said you should be out of the house by now, Woo.😘

Oh fuuuuck me.

[leighsartworks216]

Live Stream

Sylus x gn!streamer!Reader

Based on a prompt from @syluspen that took me WAY TOO LONG to get around to. This is actually a compilation of all the little things I started for it but never really finished. So, uh, enjoy

Warnings: fluff, silly, established relationship, video games

Word Count: 909

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The first time was an accident, really. He didn't realize you were in the middle of streaming for how quiet you were being and came in to ask you what you wanted for dinner.

From that point on, Sylus was the most anticipated part of every livestream.

You didn't mind it. You love your man, love that he chooses to interrupt even when he knows you are streaming just to bring you a drink or give you a quick kiss just to let you know he's home from "work". You're always a little worried someone will recognize him. Thankfully, no one has so far, and hopefully it stays that way.

The chat's screaming is your only warning before arms wrap around you from behind and Sylus's chin is resting on your shoulder. You lean back into him easily, beaming as you pause in your gaming, letting it sit on a dialogue box, waiting to be read.

"Did you just get home?"

"Mhm." He playfully brushes this side of your headphones back with his nose, exposing your ear and kissing your sideburn. "What are you playing?"

"Dream Daddy." You laugh at the odd look he gives you. You circle your mouse over your avatar in the corner. "Aren't I cute? Think you'd still date me if I look like this?"

He huffs a laugh. "Sweetie, if I would still date you if you were a worm, I would still date you if you were a guy."

The chat is zooming by quickly on the secondary monitor he bought you. A lot of people scream about him being "bisexual confirmed?!?!!" He pays them no mind.

"Is it a dating sim?" he asks.

You nod, turning your head to kiss his cheek. "Awe, guys, he's learning!"

"Any good dating options?" he asks playfully. "My current partner keeps teasing me; I may need to browse some new options."

You laugh and he chuckles by your ear, squeezing you tighter in ardent affection. You open up a browser to pull up a picture of all the love interests lined up. You explain each one to him while he listens patiently.

"Which one are you going for right now?"

"Guess."

He hums thoughtfully. "Robert?"

"Got it in one."

"Well, he's the most like me."

??? Is he a cryptid hunter too????

literally look nothin alike how tf

Istg this guy is in some shady business...

You flip back over to the game. He can tell now that one of the other love interests is who you're talking to. You turn your head so you can whisper in his ear. "You alright?"

He hums again with a small nod. "Just tired. Don't worry, sweetheart."

"Let me finish this up and we can go to bed, okay?" You kiss his cheek to cement your promise. He lifts his chin from your shoulder and kisses your forehead. "I'll only be a minute."

"Take your time." He kisses your forehead again for good measure. "Have fun, sweetie." His arms slide from their place around you as he heads toward the door.

-

Sylus loves watching you like this. Usually, he would wait somewhere else in a manor, tending to product for buyers or going over contracts. Tonight, however, you'd promised your viewers that you would play a horror game, and you needed him there in the room as moral support.

Which meant he got to tend to his guns (being off-camera as it were) and watch you panic over a haunted bear that wanted to kill you.

"Fuck fuck fuck, where's Bonnie?!" You jump with a startled cry, nearly flinging your headphones off from the fright. You lean back into your chair, hands on your head, as you read chat and try to calm your racing heart.

"You alright, sweetie?" he calls, trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

You're either too dazed to notice it or ignoring it altogether as you hum noncommittally. "The rabbit got me," you murmur.

The chats start flooding in out of nowhere. A few donations, a lot of screaming...

"Oh, I forgot to tell you guys that my partner is here for moral support." You giggle breathlessly. You look over at him with a smile. "They got jumpscared by your voice."

He chuckles. "I suppose I should be flattered to be on par with the monsters in your game."

-

Headcanons:

He supports your streaming without hesitation

Top of the line monitors, ergonomic chairs, cat ear headphones - name it and it's yours

But he doesn't show up during your streams very often

Really you're the one who insisted he stay out of sight, given his work and the possibility that someone may just recognize him

He likes to play your livestreams in the background while he works

When you excitedly ramble to him about what happened later, he already knows, but he loves to hear it from you

If you mention craving something, he's there after a bit with exactly what you wanted, whether it's a drink or a snack

Understands completely if you don't want to eat on camera, and just saves it for you for after

Maybe sticks his head into the room to show you what he got, or messages you saying it's waiting on the table

Very very rarely is he ever in the room while you stream, but it does happen

He scared your viewers when he suddenly spoke up from the sidelines

They thought he broke in or something

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko 

[stuckinmymind22]

zoro x gn! reader

wc: 663

this is the first part of a series "you're in love with me" where you realize that they are in love with you can call them out on it

thanks for voting on this one, i had fun with it, sorry it took so long, i got busy with the holidays, but it’s here now 💕

ace's is done and will be up probably tomorrow and i'm gonna start on sanjis, but lmk if you are interested in any other characters

not proof read lol

this goes one of two ways, in both you're being called stupid, both included

it's a chose your own adventure babe!

zoro has been acting strange recently- he was almost too quick to come to your aid, even if it was something you both knew you could handle alone. he’s also been making sure that you eat. recently he brought up a plate for you when you were on duty in the crow’s nest. sure, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink, but that was easy to write off as a consequence of the alcohol that was surely in his veins. but he didn’t leave right away like you thought he would, he stood on the ladder without moving until he saw you take your first bite. on the last island there had been a miscalculation in your provisions and the ship was running dangerously low on alcohol. there was no doubt that the crew was going to run dry shy of meeting their next destination, which was a bigger deal to some of the straw hats than others. it all brings you to the moment he offers you a sip of the last bottle of sake. you’re speechless. you always thought that hell sure would freeze over before he shared his booze and here he is willingly offering you some. you’re trying to figure out what was going on in his head, why he has been acting so strange, then it hits you.  “you’re in love with me.”

denial is a river in egypt

“did you hit your head or sum?” he asks, trying to remain as impartial as possible, but you didn’t miss how he nearly choked at your words. “no, zo, this makes sense,” you say connecting the dots, "you've been acting real weird about me recently, this explains it." you aren’t about to back down from this, not after you wanted this for so long, not until he admits it to himself. “you’re being an idiot,” he rolls his eyes, “do you want some or not?” with a smile you grab the bottle out of his hand and take a swig, sitting down next to him. “i don’t mind you know,” you say taking another sip, “that you love me that is” zoro is confused why he is so drawn to the dangerous smile that plays on your lips. he shakes himself out of it snatching back the bottle and taking a long gulp. you get pulled away by luffy wanting something, but he still feels your presence.  little do you know how those words haunt him for the rest of the night. fuck, you might be right

he's down bad and he knows it

“n-no I’m not,” zoro sputters, his face alight, “are you stupid or something?” “no, no, this is why you’ve been acting strange,” you say, the weight of your revelation still sinking in. “that’s why you haven’t let me out of your sight for the past week, right?” you don’t give him time to respond (not that he would be able to formulate a coherent response anyway). you continue listing all of his abnormal behaviors and fail to notice how his face grows redder with your every word. poor zoro is sinking into his seat hoping to disappear he’s so uncomfortable. he’s certain that he messed everything up and has no idea what to do now. he knows that you’re right of course, it’s kept him up at night, kept him from his precious naps. it took him a while to realize why you never left his mind, and the determining factor came from the fucking cook spewing some bullshit to a pretty woman on the last island. just when he is certain that he ruined whatever relationship you could ever have you turn to him with a big smile.  “it’s a good thing you are though, or else this would be awkward,” you tell him, before he can even think to question what you mean your lips are on his and his brain malfunctions.  maybe it’ll be alright.

masterlist

[earlgreylatte]

2V1

In which you stand no chance against them.

Hal Jordan and Barry Allen

You were going to die. You were definitely going to die.

Writhing against the binds Hal constructed did little to let you escape Barry’s fervent mouth. You lost count on the number of orgasms the speedster ripped out of you, vibrating his tongue and fingers in a way that had you seeing stars. You’re not sure how a training session devolved into the two men trying to see how many orgasms they could wring out of you. This was not you intended your endurance training to go, but you couldn’t deny you were being pushed to your every limit.

Hal, using his ring, had kept you on the edge for what felt like hours, mercilessly teasing you with his fingers, forcibly keeping your body still with his constructs, the only thing you could do was cry and tremble. You nearly sobbed in relief when sweet Barry felt guilty enough to step in, kissing your thighs apologetically before pressing his mouth against your mound, eating you out like a men possessed. But now you were shaking and sobbing for a different reason as the man refused to even come out for air.

“You were so desperate earlier, begging to come, but now you want to tap out, sweetheart?” Hal crooned, watching you break again as he languidly strokes himself. “After Bar gives you exactly what you asked for?”

The man tsks mockingly as Barry nips at you, eliciting a yelp from you.

“Don’t focus on him, just let me take care of you, honey, I want you to feel good,” Barry murmurs, blue eyes gazing at you with a striking intensity as he moves up your body, peppering you with open mouthed kisses until he’s able to mouth at the pulse point on your neck.

Hal barks out a laugh, “You’ll spoil her like that.”

His suit dematerializes, revealing him in his full nude glory as he approaches your laid form with a smug smirk as you try not to gawk at his size.

“After all, you still owe us, don’t you, baby?”

Booster Gold and Ted Kord

Earlier you had insisted you could handle it. You were more than ready. Honestly, how hard could it be, you joked.

But as Ted began to slowly penetrate you from behind, you realize you might have bitten off more than you could chew.

Letting out a shaky moan, your head falls forward onto Booster’s shoulder, who nuzzles his cheek against your hair, “Just breathe, you’re doing so good.”

You can only whimper pathetically, panting at how overwhelmingly full you felt. You hear Ted groan into your ear, hands flexing against your hip.

“Almost there,” he grunts before letting out a hoarse laugh, “Might not last long with the way you’re gripping me.”

“‘Think that’s my line,” you mumble, keeping your face pressed against Micheal’s shoulder, before flinching away when you feel him twitch inside you.

“MJ!” You scold halfheartedly, keeping your eyes shut lest you finish embarrassingly quick.

“You’re both so hot,” he groans out, strands of blond hair sticking against his forehead.

Ted chokes out a laugh, sliding his hands up to grope your breasts, having finally bottomed out. “Let’s try not to make this into a fastest orgasm contest.”

“Don’t know if anyone is going to beat your record,” Booster teases you, kissing your forehead, as you try to shoot him a teary glare.

“Just shut up and move already—ah!” You are promptly cut off when Micheal sharply thrusts into you before laughing again.

“Don’t be in such a rush, we have all night to leave you in bed for the next week,” The blond hums, bringing a hand down to rub at your clit causing your breath to hitch.

“Besides, you look cute when you’re stuffed by our dicks…want to savour it, right Teddy?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him tease you…too much,” Ted whispers in a mock conspiratorial tone as his grip on your chest tightens.

Yes, you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle

After dumping Bruce, you hadn’t expected another of his ex lovers to approach you nor did you expect for her to make advances towards you. But you count yourself grateful, knowing that the bat’s other lovers would have rather put a blade to your throat. And there was something undeniably alluring about her, something that left every one of her actions demanding your total attention.

And it was nice to talk shit about your mutual ex.

So, it wasn’t a surprise to when you found yourself drowning in her arms, every stroke and graze being devastatingly intentional, leaving you to completely submit to her whims. Not that you minded. What you did mind was when Bruce suddenly entered through your hotel room’s window while Selina had three fingers in you.

It was almost funny seeing the detective visibly stiffen in shock, seemingly out a loss for words, “I…I thought—“

“You know I don’t spend all my time stealing. Maybe you should spent more time out of that cowl too,” Selina smirks, still not removing herself out of you, only pressing more weight against your body when you squirm.

“Well, might as well stay for the show,” Selina jerks her head toward the armchair next to the window, “God knows you haven’t been getting any since you let this one go.”

You almost laugh at the woman’s boldness before she bends her fingers in a way that having you letting out a shaky moan.

“Eyes on me, sweet girl, let’s show the bat how a lady should be treated,” She purrs.

You quickly find yourself forgetting about Bruce until you hear the sound of his belt clinking and a quiet moan.

Huntress and Question

Honestly, you must have a penchant for attracting weirdos, you think, as you find your days consisting of a certain anti hero and conspiracy buff glued to your side.

Both were, without a doubt, nut cases; Helena, with her too knowing gaze and sharp tongue, and Vic’s muttering and faceless mask making the duo a bit odd in the eyes of others. But the two weren’t all bad. Helena always looked out for you, ready to come to your defence without question, even if it meant threatening people with her crossbow. Vic had a knack for remembering the most obscure details you’ve shared and always knew what you needed with just a glance.

Really, they weren’t as bad as people made them out to be.

However, you promptly withdraw any kind word you’ve said about the two of them when you’re left at their mercy.

You squirm against Vic’s lap, his grip on your naked waist unrelenting, as his erection presses against your rear as Helena tightly sucks your clit, ripping a strangled yelp from you. You’re sure you would have jumped out of Vic’s lap if not for his hold on you.

“Aww, you’re so cute, never had anyone lick this pretty pussy before?” Helena laughs before pressing her tongue against your folds as you let out a cry.

You feel Vic’s thankfully unmasked face nuzzle against your neck, “Based on her reactions and lack of any evidence of a former lover in my investigation—“

“Q!” You complain, feeling your face heat up before moaning when Helena slides a finger in you without warning.

“What have I said about names?” She scolds you with a twinkle in her eyes.

“A bit unfair considering you’re both still in costume,” you pant.

“I wouldn’t call my coat a ‘costume’—”

“Shut up, Q.”

Really, they weren’t that bad.

Yeah, wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first helenavic threesome fic LMAOO actually I will now take this as fact without verifying, it is my badge of honour…also I really put b in that chair lol…

[floral-cavern]

So.. Sarcastic Chorus has retired from doing Helluvaverse content. This is a huge blow to the series. If you somehow don’t know, Sarcastic Chorus is the Helluvaverse YouTuber. He’s done so many analysis videos, it’s kind of part of his brand in the same way FNAF is associated with MatPat. The fact that Chorus left the shows is crazy, but, honestly, it’s just a testament to how bad this show has been getting.

This is the view count for the first three episodes for seasons 1 and 2

And if you think that’s bad, look at the difference between the season finales for each season

(I know technically Ozzie’s isn’t the season finale, but Queen Bee doesn’t count because of how long it took to come out)

People are tired of the show focusing on the wrong things. I seriously recommend Chorus’s video, it has so many good points. And one point I really want to talk about is Stolas.

I talk a lot about the bad writing in the show in general and how I don’t like Stolas, but I just want to say, I don’t like him anymore. I used to really like his character.. but season 2 completely ruined him for me because they refuse to acknowledge that he has any flaws. Rather than tell “we know Stolitz has flaws on both sides of the relationship, both will work on that,” instead, it’s all just Blitzo. They’ve spent 3 whole episodes just shitting on Blitzo, when… where’s that same treatment for Stolas? Stolas is a classist, racist, rapist. But the show seems to just… forget this. They’re backpedaling so hard, I'm surprised they haven’t fallen off the bike.

I used to find Stolas an interesting character and I was so excited to see where they would take his flaws and mistakes. Like, think about it. Stolas is completely naive, having been sheltered his whole life. The only concept for genuine intimacy he has comes from erotica. Of course he’s going to have a skewed idea of what sex is like when the only sex he’s ever had is with Stella, who, and I quote, “just lays there staring at the wall” where Stella has to do all the work. Ya… that is fucked and a form of sexual abuse, just like what Stolas does to Blitzo. So, I was interested to see where they would take this cycle of abuse that Stolas is so accustomed to and how they were going to have him break it. How was Stolas going to learn his idea of intimacy is wrong?

Well… he doesn’t. Not really. He does realize this transaction is wrong, but, when he tells this all to Blitzo and when Blitzo doesn’t have the reaction he wants, Stolas throws a fucking tantrum. He walks away and refuses to let Blitzo speak, he denies having ever done anything wrong, says that Blitzo was the one who always makes things about sex when that is NOT TRUE. And the worst part? The show treats Stolas like he’s right. They never do anything to show us that Stolas is a hypocrite, instead, like I said earlier, only punishing Blitzo. And don’t even pull the “he was banished” card! Stolas was not being punished for being a neglectful father, or for being an abusive partner. He was being punished… for a heroic sacrifice. He was being banished because Andre doesn’t like him and everyone is mean to Stolas so we have to feel so bad for him, guys!

I just… I started to have my doubts for the show around Full Moon, but I wanted to stick with the show. I liked Apology Tour, but did find it a bit weird that Stolas was being woobied, but I just assumed it was because the next episode, Stolas would be the one receiving the punishing. But the next episode.. WAS ANOTHER HATE ON BLITZO EPISODE. So I told myself, boy I told myself, that the next episode will be focusing on Stolas’s flaws, on Stolas’s part on why this relationship didn’t work. AND THEY DIDN’T FUCKING DO THAT STILL. In fact, Mastermind was just full of Stolas unnecessarily insulting Blitzo, calling him an idiot and whatnot. Like.. GIVE THIS GUY A BREAK, HOLY FUCK. WE GET IT.

This show has gotten so fucking infuriating. Good on Chorus for leaving. Me, personally? I’m going to keep watching, out of curiosity and because I hate myself, but if the show gets anymore infuriating, I may just leave. Because this show is so non-self aware with its black and white writing while it tries so damn hard to have a moral high horse.

So, actually, no. Not ‘fuck Stolas’. Fuck the writers for being so blind to the kinds of behaviors they are endorsing and encouraging with him.